Castles Plunder

A broad, short, man and a lithe woman looked out over the crenellations at the near horizon. His clothing did not fit the time, made from animal pelts and coarse fabric, the vest and kilt would only fit among the reenactments. Even there it would look out of place among the Victorian attire. He was from a far older time.

His rough-made sword scraped halfway out of its scabbard before the woman's soft hand floated gently down to rest atop his and hold his action. He looked up quizzically. "But there is a man out there. He is on our lands. He seeks plunder like the dragon men once did."

The smile she returned relaxed the man slightly. Long dark hair seemed to float about her as she turned once more to face the distant threat. "Yes. But this man is not like the northmen. He is not a warrior. This is a task for me, not you."

Without further thought, the sword relaxed back into its home. With a grim nod the man turned and went back into the castle. The woman watched him go, but quickly returned her attention to the forest. She cared for the man but, like him, she had needs. The man felt the draw to combat, but she felt a very different pull. Hers came from much lower.

She could satisfy that urge and still beguile him away from their home. And if she could not, there might still be need of that sword.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bracken crouched and looked around. There was no question in his mind that someone was following him. He could feel them out there as they slowly, meticulously, made their way behind him. In truth, he didn't honestly know if his mysterious shadow was behind him, off to the side or even in front of him. He only knew that there was someone else out there, in the woods, and that they were aware not only of his presence, but his intent.

With a shudder, Bracken threw the concern aside. If someone knew then there was nothing that could be done about it. Undoubtedly, there was more than enough evidence out there already that his pursuit could have simply gone to the police, or whatever passed for it around these parts.

In truth, he wasn't entirely certain his case was a matter for the police. It could be Interpol or something similar that was responsible. Of course, he wasn't entirely certain what he was doing was illegal. He suspected it was, and that was more than enough for him to be very circumspect about his actions and planning. If it wasn't, then he could live with looking a little foolish skulking around for something completely above the board. After all, a thief did not live off of his reputation.

Bracken stopped as the wall came into sight. This was an expected obstacle, and likely the easiest to overcome. After all, this was nothing different from modern dwellings. A quick scan of the region around it proved that time had provided as much potential as ignorance and neglect generally did with modern landowners. Since the original builders were obviously very security minded, they would never have let the forest encroach as closely as it now did.

With a flair for the dramatic, Bracken leapt to catch a low hanging branch. With a kick of hanging legs, he swung up and landed lightly on the limb. It did not quite reach the wall, or even close enough that he could jump straight there, but no more than a couple of feet away were a series of branches that would support his weight and give him a perfect idea of what lay beyond. He cleared the distance like most people would hop a puddle.

A quick glance revealed that the woods continued on the other side of the wall. Even that was not enough evidence for Bracken. It was still possible that there would be some form of security out there. Unfortunately, the leaves that coated the ground made it difficult to determine if there was any form of modern technology. The irregular shapes could conceal any manner of sensors, and even his night vision goggles would fail to reveal them.

Bracken cursed and knew he had to either move on, trust his instinct that there were no unseen devices, or turn around and go home. Every indication spoke of decades of neglect, possibly even centuries. Even his veiled questions in the small town had received only bemused stares. How could they not know there was even a castle up in these hills, much less the treasure it was fabled to contain? He was in the depths of Scotland, that was why. There were enough castles spread about that a few invariably had been lost to living memory.

The problem was, Bracken was certain that someone knew not only the existence of the castle, but was at that very moment following him. He dropped from the tangle of branches and nearly collapsed on the other side of the wall. The sensation of being watched seemed to lash through his entire body. One moment only the base of his neck tingled, the next every cell of his body screamed a primal warning.

Only once before had he felt the sensation. Strangely enough, he had been about to break into a suburban ranch house back in the states. Even more peculiar, he had thought he had seen an old woman at the attic window. When he took off the goggles, there had been no one there. A veritable blink of an eye. The combination had been enough to convince him there were better targets.

This time, however, no one appeared. With every muscle in his body frozen in terror, only his eyes could traverse the trees in search of the source of his fear. Nothing. With deliberate will, Bracken reached up and slowly removed the goggles. Darkness enveloped him, but his eyes quickly adjusted to the limited light. Nothing appeared, unlike when the old woman had vanished, with the change in technology.

Bracken forced a breath into his lungs. Slowly it slithered back out his nose. In and out, he controlled his breathing. Cautiously, his body began to unwind at his insistence. Although incredibly powerful, his hard-won muscles would do little good with his traditional acrobatics if they were locked tight. And whether he needed to fight or flee, he needed to be able to move quickly.

In the end, Bracken convinced his body that there was no threat. He uncoiled from the instinctive crouch that had both cushioned the landing and reduced his silhouette. He moved forward once more, towards the castle, at a leisurely pace. There was no need to rush; the night was still young, and whoever was out there already knew about him.

He turned his thoughts back to the book he had discovered. He had been trapped in the attic of a very old New England house when he discovered it. The occupants had come home early from their trip and he had barely escaped to hide. During the cramped time, he quietly searched through a trunk for something to occupy his tense mind. The book looked old and potentially valuable, so he brought it when he finally slipped out, well after the couple had fallen asleep.

Although the old journal wasn't worth much, except possibly to some collector on an online auction, one key passage caught his attention. It spoke of the legend of a castle near a large town named Perth where a popular thief had horded treasure. Amused by the connection with himself, and the potential link to the Robin Hood legends, he had investigated the town to discover it's location in central Scotland.

For some reason Bracken could not understand, the legend seemed to call to him. He felt driven to check it out, so further research demonstrated fairly large plots of land in the region that were not owned. Many of them were abundantly large enough for a castle to have disappeared into historical irrelevance.

Even more than the connection he felt to the legend, the journal included references to specific treasures that he had been able to research. Although most had not been officially connected by record, he had discovered each of them in an online binge of research. What was even more important was that all had vanished from historical reference at about the same time, and each somewhere within Scotland.

Bracken hadn't even realized that his pace had picked up while he contemplated the certainty that there was treasure ahead. Even the sense of being followed only added to his certainty. Why else would someone follow an American tourist unless they not only knew about his goal, but knew it had a valid potential for success. He was even fairly confident that he could overcome, or at least evade, whoever was out there.

A rustle amongst the branches off to his right caused Bracken to stop in his tracks. This far north there were much larger creatures in the woods than the more populated lands in England, but the sound had been too large for any of them. His estimate put the movement at only slightly less massive than he was. Unfortunately there was a discrepancy; the movement seemed far shorter.

A moment later a shadow crossed between trees. Bracken cautiously dropped the night-vision goggles back over his eyes but it was too late, the movement was gone. With enhanced sight, he was able to confirm that the shadow had been only about half his height by the shrubbery it had obscured as it passed. While probably half his height, it had also been far wider. If he hadn't known better, he would have suspected some form of ape.

This time the noise came from his left. Bracken cursed the goggles' lack of peripheral vision even as he contemplated the random locations of all of the occurrences. The first had been to his right, but the shadow had crossed from left to right, and now more sound to his left. He began to fear there were multiple people following him. At least two, if the first noisemaker had slipped around behind him while the second crossed in front.

As expected, the enhanced light showed him nothing out of the ordinary. Suddenly the trees that surrounded him, the same trees that had given him perfect camouflage and escape opportunities before, now seemed to press in. In the dense forest he was never much farther than a few feet from one. He was all too familiar with how quickly a physically fit person could cross a few feet.

Bracken's head began to dart in all directions. At night, without peripheral vision, he felt helpless for the first time in his life. Yet he could not bring himself to remove the goggles. He knew all too well how easily a person could dress themselves to become invisible in the dark. The skin-tight pants, long-sleeved shirt and mask that he wore proved it all to efficiently. When he had purchased the goggles, his contact had demonstrated how effectively even they could be fooled by his chosen outfit.

Hands came to rest on Bracken's hips and his body tried to bolt, even before he realized what had happened. Fire rushed through his veins as panic released adrenalin. But despite the extra strength that his desperation granted, his hips were locked in place by a gentle vice. It felt like he had been trapped by a statue.

Instinct turned from flight to fight. Bracken's right elbow lashed backwards, approximating his assailant's height by the placement and grip of the hands. Given the strength of the grip, he almost expected his arm to crack against solid stone. Instead, he met only air before the grip on his hips tightened slightly and his momentum was destroyed. His muscles uncoiled and reversed his direction as he prepared to lash out with his other arm.

The moment Bracken's torso returned forward his opponent stepped up to press their body to his back. Like the hands, the body held the strength of a wall, and once more his momentum was defeated with ease. He froze as his body tried to make sense of the situation. He realized it was simply another instinct, that of the prey hoping the predator would simply overlook him, but he pushed the thought aside as irrelevant. He needed to asses the situation.

As little bits of information began to process through his brain, he began to question his initial analogy. The first thing he noticed was that warmth radiated from the person. He could feel it almost as a caress, even through the layers of fabric. In the cool night air, even his body temperature had dropped, but his captor warmed him slightly. No stone would be this warm.

Although strong to the point of disbelief, there was very little else that would lend him to compare the hands, or even the body pressed against his back, to a statue. In fact, for all of its strength, there was a subtle softness there that began to sooth his tense muscles. His body betrayed him through inattention as it melted against hers.

Bracken's eyes opened wide beneath the goggles as he realized that a woman held him completely immobile. He could now identify her small, firm, breasts pressed against his shoulder blades. The soft, subtle, padding of her lust pressed against his firm butt. Her hot breath tickled across the nape of his neck.

The shudder that wracked his body had nothing to do with the cool air. Senses trained for larceny told him that she was just about his height. What's more, she was obviously very athletic. But all of her strength and conditioning had removed none of the fine curves or feminine flesh. Adrenalin continued to surge through his blood as a stray thought wondered exactly what she wanted of him. Parts of his body knew exactly what he hoped she wanted.

The moment the first pulse of blood raced between his legs, her right hand began to move. Carefully, it seemed to follow the flow of blood. Bracken's breath caught and he froze once more as her hand glided over his manhood. If those hands could stop him cold with such ease, he didn't want to think of what she could do to him if she attacked. Especially when her hand was in such a tender location.

Fortunately, she seemed content to merely cup the growing bulge. Like his own body, likely she could use her sense of touch to tell her much more than most people. The timing could not be a coincidence. She had felt his pulse increase, or the slight tightening of his muscles or shift of fabric. She had known the instant he had begun to grow, and now she simply wanted to gauge his size. Bracken would have been offended if he weren't comfortable with his body.

The hot breath narrowed and began to climb his neck. Bracken's breath exploded from his lungs in earnest as the feather touch climbed where few enough women had even bothered to kiss him. It hit his earlobe and his hips thrust forward of their own accord. His nearly complete erection pressed heavily between his own body and her firm grip. He was surprised when it was she who moaned appreciatively and not himself.

Bracken hasn't heard a sound from her aside from the movement hidden in the trees. Even as her breath played across his skin it had done so silently. Now, her husky alto groan drove directly into his spine and raced through every nerve. He hardened fully, still trapped by both tight pants and her iron grip. The action elicited another moan and she began to stroke him slightly through the layers of fabric.

She spoke directly into his ear. Although little more than a whisper he heard her clearly. Unfortunately her thick accent was almost indecipherable at first. Even as his mind tried to sort out the seemingly familiar sounds, his body collapsed bonelessly against hers. Her free hand slid around his waist and held him up with frightening ease.

"Why be yeh here." Bracken's mind translated her question a little more quickly when she repeated it. Even compared to the people he had met in the local village her accent was so thick that he struggled to understand her. Even with that barrier, between the hypnotic cadence and the slow motion of her hand, he wanted to tell her everything she wanted to know.

Bracken's sense of self preservation was too strong to be completely overcome by his libido. "I'm an American. I came here to see the castle. I read about it in a book and wanted to see it for myself."

The woman's head jerked back. He could tell when it cocked to one side and guessed that his own accent surprised and troubled her as much as hers did him. "Yeh come at night te guest?"

As she spoke, her hand shifted to one side in order to wrap her hand around Bracken, through the tight pants, rather than simply cup him. He gasped as she squeezed slightly. He was glad that her attentions gave him an excuse not to answer. His mind was far too clouded with lust at this point to lie. Yet he couldn't tell her the truth.

When her teeth lightly grazed the back of his neck, his knees gave. Even with an arm around his waist, he sank slightly. His own weight pressed him against her hand, and he nearly exploded as her soft unyielding flesh pressed directly into his groin. His mouth dropped open as his entire body teetered on the verge.

"It is not yet your time." A flicker of thought broke through Bracken's haze of need. Her choice of phrase reminded him of death, and from there the expression of orgasm referred to as 'the little death'. If this unknown, and yet unseen, woman would simply let him finish he would die happily.

Her hand left his groin and caused Bracken to whimper. She reached up and clutched the goggles. "What be this strange helm?" The world went dark as she meticulously slid the device off of his head. His weight began to slide once more as she negligently released him.

Bracken's body twisted, as he fell, to absorb the impact. Leaves crunched and he rolled onto his back. His eyes desperately tried to adjust. Draped in shadow, he could barely see the woman, even though she stood next to him, less than a foot away. Her silhouette revealed that she held the goggles close to her face and twisted them this way and that in her investigation.

Eyes drifted down her body in curiosity. Bracken gasped. Suddenly his skin-tight pants felt as restrictive as her iron grip, as his manhood tried to grow further, beyond its natural size. The woman was completely naked! Although he could see almost no details of her form, a slight shift in her position left no doubt of that fact as he witnessed a single taut nipple and the slight protrusion of hair between her legs. While a thin, tight, shirt could account for the former, nothing could explain the texture of the later.

"Mother of mercy!" With frozen lungs, the exclamation came out as nothing more than a whisper. Bracken could barely hear himself, yet the slight noise attracted the nymph's attention with apparent ease. Her head shifted down towards him and he regretted the sudden loss of the sight of her soft hair and hard nipple. Even without those, the glorious curves of her body reminded him of pleasures intimately promised already.

Bracken could not see her eyes, but he felt her gaze. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he knew she began at his face before she began to trail down his body. One by one his muscles tensed with the knowledge of her attention. Once more he feared she would unman him simply by looking at him. When she finally reached his now painful need, the fire that raged between his legs burst outward and spread throughout his body.

"Please!" Bracken whimpered. His body refused to respond. He could not climb even to his knees to aid in his begging.

The woman's head cocked to one side. She had to have understood his plea. The word sounded the same in any derivation of English. She could only be confused by exactly what it was he begged for. The painful bulge in his pants was an obvious enough answer to Bracken, but likely the woman could see him no better than he could see her.

The woman suddenly remembered the goggles in her hand and her attention returned to them. Deft hands tested the strap for strength and size. She carefully put it on, the mechanical eyes the last part to drop down. With a gasp of shock, her lead jerked back. She ripped the device off her head and turned to throw it but paused at the last second.

Her twisted profile gave Bracken the best view yet of her bounties. Although well muscled, her thighs looked pillowy soft. He could almost imagine them wrapped around his hips as he thrust into her. Her arms looked more solid, and he knew exactly how strong those were. Most of all were her breasts. Although small, likely only a B-cup at best, they had bounced delightfully as she turned quickly. He knew he could lose himself easily in this woman's embrace.