Her Tender Bosoms

Prolouge 

Riley o’beile

 “Move sir and you’ll find a sword pierce through your heart.” Spoke a disgruntled voice. I felt the sharp cold metal against the centre of my bare back; I almost sniggered amused by the so called ‘knight’ behind me but held myself back, I needed to make sure I appeared to be hopeless.

 “Your name.” the knight said quickly.

“Quinn Renwar.” I replied quietly, in hopes of making myself sound passive.

“And your business on this land.” The knight then mumbled the sword dangerously close to piercing my skin. I had now noticed a pack of horse patrol soldiers surrounding me, I cursed silently in my head, this was going a lot worse that I had planned.

“I’m a refugee sire, seeking a safe haven from the wars ravaging the land of Yorkenshire, the wars killed my mother and father leaving me without family.” I replied, my tone sombre and sullen. I surprisingly felt the sword dig deeper into my back, enough so to rip the skin, I winced as I felt the droplets of blood glide down my back.

“I asked not for a sob story, nor a lie sire, your accent is that of an Irish man. It would be clever not to hold information back boy, if you seek refuge behind my kings walls then you tell me the truth, and nothing but the truth.” Said the Knight sternly, I felt the coldness of the sword move from my back; I sighed in relief only to hear the knights chainmail rustling and hear the sound of his padded footsteps make their way in front of me.

The man before me was around his early 40’s with muscles spewing out of this body armour. I felt my knees buckle as I was kicked to the ground. Stupid Rouen knights, always the same, thinking they can push anyone around because of their damn impenetrable high walls.

“The truth.” The knight said again his lips rose in a tight grimace.

I felt my jaw bones grind away in anger, but I tried my best to remain passive.

“I resided in Ireland until the age of 6 sire, my parents migrated here so I could have a safer upbringing, but my story is true, I am but a refugee seeking safety and work.” I replied adding a bit of forcefulness to my tone. I needed to get behind those walls, everyone back home was depending on my success.

“Please sire,” I carried on, taking what seemed like my last chance. “I have nowhere else to go, the next kingdom is a 9 day journey on foot, my body will be picked apart by the crows, show me mercy.” I finished, hoping my tone sounded sombre enough.

The knight did not reply to me but seemed to be having a mental battle with himself.

“If you betray me boy, I’ll serve your head to the king on a silver platter, do you understand.” He began; I almost smirked at how stupid this man was but instead gave him what looked like a grateful smile.

“I understand.” I replied, looking at the ground in what seemed like submission but was really in victory, to hell with the Rouen’s the day I die will be the day I submit to one of them.

“The castle needs a new stable boy, even though you’re not really a boy...” he said hesitantly, I couldn’t blame him; I am a fully grown man after all.

“Follow me.” He said snapping me out of my mental discussion.

I frowned, annoyed by his bossy manor but knew better than to retaliate, and either way I only have to endure this sorry excuse of a knight for a little while, because in a couple months’ time it would be his head I’m serving a silver platter to my king.