Page 3 of Bringing Claire Home

Claire had licked up and down his shaft, then bitten it gently, before sucking his cockhead back into her mouth again. Before she’d finished playing, he was groaning and pumping his hips hard, his essence filling her mouth until it ran out the sides while she tried to swallow it down.

* * * *

Ivan walked steadily in the pace he’d developed over the last twelve months. It was a speed that enabled him to keep a close watch on everything around him, but still moved him across the countryside quite rapidly. Over the past year, he’d come to know the wooded area intimately. Every tall tree was a landmark. Every dip and hollow was engraved in his memory. He knew where the edible nuts grew and where the rabbits ran. He could turn himself around and around and still be certain which direction would lead him to their campsite. He’d stayed well away from the hamlets and been careful never to hunt too close to them, but he’d never seen or heard anyone else in the forest, so was reasonably sure they stayed away or kept very close to the edges nearest their hamlets.

He wasn’t sure whether this was a good sign or a bad one. If the people had been very hungry, they would have been hunting deeper in the forest where animals tended to hide, particularly in the colder months. So perhaps they weren’t hungry. But if the people had been killed or moved away, they wouldn’t be in the forest either, and that would be a worrying thing, indicating Lord Jeffrey, or other soldiers, were still attacking the peasants, which was not good for him, Claire, and Paul.

Yes, it was more than time they searched for some fresh news.

He loved Claire. She was beautiful, sweet, kind, caring, everything a man could want in a woman. Paul would let her marry him, he was certain. But he was also certain she loved someone else, and he couldn’t bear to have her break her heart. If she loved another, she could never be his. That hurt him so much. He wanted her to love him and only him, but he was too late. She’d already given her heart away before he met her. Perhaps the other man was married now, or even dead. But that would upset her, too. Or would she turn to him for consolation? He could accept that, being the one to console her sadness instead of her true love, if only she would give herself to him willingly.

But any future plans were dependent on them leaving the forest and returning to a normal life. He would go with Paul and Claire to their home, either to work with Paul or to marry Claire, or both. He had no home anymore. His father had remarried, and the new wife didn’t want a grown-up son eating her food or taking up space in her house. He’d decided to become a soldier but had met up with Paul and Claire and stayed with them instead. He was glad now. Men learned soldiering from childhood, and likely he’d have been killed already had he attempted that trade. Farming was what he knew. He’d stick with that.

Ivan trod gently on the ground, never following a path so he didn’t wear a trail through the undergrowth. He sidestepped around hollows and trees, following rabbit tracks and ducking under bushes as he went, moving circuitously to make anyone trying to follow him work hard for their success. Even in clearings, he walked around the edges, not across the middle. But even so, he made good time and knew he was nearing the eastern hamlet by midafternoon. Twice he’d stopped to drink from fresh-running streamlets. Now he sat under a tree and ate a piece of meat and a handful of berries while he decided what to say to the people. The truth was always best. So he’d left home because of his father’s new wife and was on his way to farm with friends.

Having decided what to say, he circled around some more so he approached the hamlet from a different path. The crop had been harvested, and the land appeared to be well cared for. That was all good, indicating no marauding soldiers had been there recently. He stood at the edge of the trees, looking carefully in every direction, but saw no people, so he stepped onto the road and walked toward the hamlet.

Chapter Three

The old lady and the boy both rode Mitchell’s horse back to Lord Ceadda’s stronghold, a large bundle of their possessions tied across its back. Mitchell led the animal, carrying a sturdy wooden staff in one hand and his dagger in the other, but they saw no signs of trouble.

“Back so soon, boy?”

“I’m sorry, Lord Ceadda, but these people were left alone in a hamlet with no way to feed themselves over winter, so I thought I’d best bring them to your demesne.”

The elderly lord waved at a servant, possibly his steward, Mitchell thought, who took the old lady and the boy, while a man came to care for the horse.

“You’d best stay the night again,” said the lord.

“Thank you, lord. May I also talk to your people and find out if any of them have seen Claire? She’d never been to the hamlet where I expected to find her.”

“Of course.”

Mitchell spoke first to the guards, thinking they would know what had been happening in the area. But they spoke mainly of people coming into the stronghold, not leaving it.

“When the soldiers first attacked, they were very angry and killed a lot of people. Sometimes they burned entire hamlets to the ground, and other times they just stole all the food, but a lot of people were killed. Those left alive came here,” said the head guard.

“I can take you to a group of survivors, and you can talk to them, if that would help,” said another guard.

“Thank you. That would be good.”

They walked the length of the stronghold to a far corner where newish huts were built. The guard left him there, nodding to an older woman, sitting on a log, watching a group of children playing in the dirt.

“My name is Mitchell. I’m trying to find my true love, Claire. Her brother brought her to this area to seek protection with family, about a year ago, but I can find no trace of her.”

“Please sit down. I know of no Claire, nor have I heard of people coming into the area. Lord Jeffrey’s soldiers killed many, but that’s more than a year since, and the people fled here to Lord Ceadda’s demesne, to gain his protection. The old lord has cared for us all. None have perished here.”

“The few people left at the hamlet said she’d never arrived, and Lord Ceadda knows nothing of them. Where would her brother have taken her then? Is there another stronghold in the area?”

“Unless they left the valley, there’s nowhere else for them to go. Are you sure they didn’t return to their home via a different route, and you’ve just missed them on your journey?”

“No, they would have returned long before I left. What can have happened to them? Where can Claire be?”

The woman rested a gentle hand on Mitchell’s shoulder. “Young man, I think you need to be prepared for the thought that either the journey or the soldiers killed them. If they didn’t come here, and didn’t arrive at their destination, I fear there is no other possibility.”

Mitchell jumped to his feet, pain searing through his body. “No! No! I’ll never believe she’s dead. She’s somewhere. I just have to find her.”

“Well then, I suggest you return home along a different path. There are some hamlets that were spared most of Lord Jeffrey’s attacks. I guess he couldn’t find them or didn’t know they existed. But they’re well to the east, on the other side of the wooded land. Perhaps that’s where you should go.”