The Four Realms of Handor
Ser Landry's Tale
Chapter One: The Watch
Ser Landry drew the night watch for what seemed like the hundredth week in a row. It was actually only the third but the intolerable conditions made it seem like much more. During the winter months the night watch was most hated by all guards of the Southern Keep. Cold driving winds insistently blew and biting snow and ice drove into your body like frozen nails. Layers of wool, boiled leather, and chain mail only kept you from freezing to death, but you yet still froze.
"Aye," Ser Wallace mumbled when Ser Landry walked up to relieve him from his watch, a banner of steam flowing from his mouth as he talked. "I've kept her warm for you," he continued. Alluding to the spot next to the short stubby stone tower that the two men were assigned to.
"Any action tonight?" Ser Landry questioned.
"No. There hasn't been any action here in half a century. I know I've never seen any."
Ser Landry was still young. At nineteen years of age his time in the Royal Guard was still in its infancy. Others such as Wallace, who was well into his fifties, had been guarding the same keep for quite some time, just as those had done before them going back over 200 years. The Southern Keep, the most remote in all four realms of the Handor kingdom, was once an important trade route between the native tribes, known as the Nethers, that lived in the south and those that had colonised the north. It was on a narrow strip of land, no more than ten miles wide, that geographically separated the two regions.
Over the years, the Nethers stopped coming north and a savage group of humanoids began to take their place. Instead of trade, they preferred to steal the wares they wanted and to kill those that had it. It was not long before the lord of Glacierthorn, the southernmost realm in the kingdom, raised an army to push back the savages and setup various keeps along their borders to keep them at bay.
Ser Landry stood their in the cold, his longsword leaning up against the rock wall instead of sheathed on his side as it should have been. His thoughts drifted, as they often would, to warmer things. A bed of coals in a fireplace, a piping hot bowl of soup, a steaming bath, a woman. He had only ever been with one woman and only on one occasion, Lilia on the night before he left for the keep. He promised to return one day from the duties he was sworn to and marry her, make a proper woman of her.
Lilia was his aunts daughter, his second cousin. If it were ever to be, it would be a noble marriage, keeping the bloodlines of the Landry's pure, which was the hope of any highborn family. He remembered how she smelled, her skin soft with the delicate scent of lavender. He loved that about her. She didn't pour on the scented oil or perfumes like many of the other girls did in court. Her golden curls always seemed to bounce, light and soft on her shoulders. Although modest, she did make sure to reveal the slightest amount of cleavage for all those wishing to take a peek. Her reservedness was her allure.
Ser Landry undressed her petite body more times in his mind's eye than he could count. On many occasions, every time he got the chance, he even went so far as to spy on her when her chambermaids bathed her. He had once found a small crack from a storage room that looked into her bedchamber. Every time her airy silken gown would fall from her body and onto the floor, revealing her shoulders, back, buttocks, and legs, he would instantly get hard if he was not already. Then she would walk around to the side of the tub, the nipples on her perky breasts hard from the castle's cold night drafts. When she bent over to feel the hot water of her bath, held onto the edge of the tub, and lifted her leg over and into the steaming water, he would always get the perfect view between her legs. Her pussy, he thought, must be the sweetest in all the land.
While watching her bathe and her maids cleanse every possible area of her body, he would hold onto his hard cock and stroke it slowly. When Lilia's bathers moved the sponge between her legs, she would push their hands down and make them stay there, sometimes for only a moment but sometimes for many minutes until she would lean her head back, hold onto the sides of the tub, and moan in ecstasy. Landry would always wait until she stood from the bath, wet and sudsy, before he would cum into the floor drain of the room he was hidden in.
Ser Landry grabbed onto the cold rail next to him. His other hand was buried deep in his wool pants, pumping up and down on his fully erect shaft. The thoughts of Lilia quickened his release. Then, as he did almost every night that he had watch, he filled his cotton shorts with shot after shot of warm sticky cum. He would sometimes masturbate three or four times in an evening as a way to pass the time, always imagining Lilia and her supple breasts, dripping wet pussy as it rose from the bath, and the round cheeks of her ass. Many hours in the dark made a man's mind turn to anything other than that of the cold and the night.
It was then, as he was wiping his sticky hand on his icy pants that he thought he saw movement in the distance. Struggling to make out what it was, it disappeared before he could decide whether or not it was his imagination or something real. "My imagination.", he thought to himself.
Chapter Two: Whores
A day off from the watch was just what Ser Landry was looking forward to. He told himself that if he drew one more week of night watch he would risk beheading and desert his post. Waking up that morning was a godsend, the bright light from the sun lit up and warmed the small room he shared with two other guards. He laid there, contemplating what he was going to do that day. Normally he would spend the day walking the river, fishing, writing poetry, reading from one of the many old tomes in the keeps rather old and uncharacteristically ample library.
The other men, especially the younger, would generally head north to the small village of Veldorf and spend their weeks wages on ale and whores. Landry had been there once when he first joined the watch, pressured into going by his peers. After downing several pints, he let one of the working girls rub his erection through his pants. Barely turning down a blow job as the girl's red lips and hungry mouth danced around the head of his cock, he felt guilty about his near infidelity to Lilia.
"Landry!" it was Lord Kindle, arguably the most boisterous and free spirited of the bunch. "Veldorf. This afternoon. You need to get that dick of yours sucked on!" Kindle walked of laughing and slapping the other two men he was with on the back.
The sun was high in the sky and the other men with the day off were mounted on horseback headed towards Veldorf. Landry had a book in his hand: Prose of Affection, A Poet's Memoir, and was walking quickly towards the snowy woods where the river ran in an attempt to escape being harassed about going with them.
"Landry!" it was Lord Kindle again. "Come with us, brother."
"I think I'll just stay behind for today" Ser Landry responded as he picked up the speed in which he was walking.
"Come get some pussy you pussy!" Kindle laughed annoyingly. "Come on, we miss you."
The only person Landry might call a friend that called the keep home guided his horse in his direction. Taylor, the only name he went by, was always kind to Landry. No one knew his title or if he even had one but the air about him was certainly that of nobility. One of the things appealing about the Royal Guard is that one need not be highborn to join. If you wanted to reach any kind of status it certainly helped, but was not required.
"I'll watch your back," Taylor said to Landry who had finally stopped walking away. "You need to get out with the guys and have some fun. I know you have that girl back home you are wanting to remain faithful to and I respect that. You don't have to fuck anything or even touch anything, but come drink some ale my friend. It will be a good time."
Ser Landry pondered his options for a moment.
"Come on," Taylor prodded. "It will be fun."
"Ok, if I drink too much and some wenches mouth gets to close to my cock this time, I'm holding you accountable."
"That's a deal," Tyler rode away laughing to himself. "He's going to come," he yelled to the others.
There were two inns in Veldorf. The Silver Rose, where anyone with an ounce of dignity would stay, and Lost Virtue, where anyone looking to drink too much and find a piece of ass would stay. For being so remote, Lost Virtue seemed to know how to find working girls that were steps above even those found in the ritziest of brothels in the major cities. Heavy timbers and stone made up the walls of the inn. Pushing the heavy oak door open, a wave of flute music and the roar of people having an abundance of good time flooded out into the streets. The heavy steel barrel stove in the middle of the room glowed red and the heat was a welcome retreat to that of the bitter cold air outside.
"Ales all around," Kindle announced to the bartender as the group of eight poured through the door and found one of the only open tables left in the place.
Girls from across the realm, hand picked by madam Sellwood, strode about from table to table in light cotton dresses. Their practiced seductions were capable of making even the purest of men part with their hard earned coin. Drunk men were almost no contest. A blow job could be had without leaving your seat. It was an easy and relatively cheap way of blowing your wad in a beautiful girls mouth without having to get up from the conversation. Head Girls they were called, ladies that specialized in getting a man to release in the shortest amount of time possible, take their money, and move onto the next.
A pretty little red headed Head Girl walked by the table and one of the guys, Ser Walker, slapped her on the ass to get her attention. She quickly spun around and gave him a smile. Walker placed a copper coin on the table and slid it in her direction.
"Two more of those if you tease it a bit and make it last," Walker said with a wink.