Chapter 2

Having gotten Celia clothed, Gabe next looked at the firewood supply. What he had brought in earlier was seriously depleted. He asked Celia, “Will you be able to carry anything, Little One?”

“I’ll try, Gabe,” she assured him.

“All right, light a candle and we’ll go in the back to get wood for the fire.” They passed through the back room to the tunnel. Celia carried firewood from there to the front while Gabe brought more in from outside. Whoever had built this had been smart enough to have the door open in rather then out, as the snow was now deep enough to prevent a door from opening in that direction.

Because of her injured back, Celia was unable to carry much at one time, but she made a number of trips. When Gabe thought they had a good supply for the night and next day, he closed and barred the door. The bar had been leaning against the wall all this time. He then helped Celia carry more firewood up front.

When he was satisfied with the supply there, he told Celia to bring another candle, and they would explore the back room for a while. Nothing much new was turned up, but Gabe brought the other crocks of grain out to the front room. It was Celia who found the small chest. It was under some old tools in a corner. It was locked, but the lock of steel had rusted badly and was easy to open. The chest was a dirty black color on the outside.

When opened, the inside of the chest was lined with expensive wood and was well finished ... It contained a short sword. The blade was sixteen inches long, one and three quarters inch wide and one quarter inch thick. It was double edged and tapered for three quarters of its length to a point. The handle was five inches long and wound with silver wire. The cross guard was brass, five inches across and three quarters inch wide. The thickness varied from three quarters inch in the center to one quarter inch near the ends. The cap on the handle was a brass ball one and a half inches in diameter. The blade was engraved in the center on both sides. The cross guard was engraved and chiseled. The wooden scabbard was covered in fine leather with engraved brass trim at the top and bottom. There was no rust on the blade.

When Gabe saw the sword, he told Celia, “This is a fine expensive short sword. It was well cared for, and the box has a wood in the bottom that reduces the chance of rust. Smell the inside Celia and see what I mean.”

Celia sniffed and then said, “Yes, Gabe. I can smell the fragrance of the wood.”

“This is an expensive ceremonial sword. I wonder what it is doing here in this gardener’s shack. We’ll probably never know.” Gabe told her.

Celia had been looking in the empty chest, and said, “Gabe, there’s something else in here.”

She reached into one corner and came out with a fine large gold ring. With one look Gabe knew what it was. He had seen it in pictures, when visiting the house before. It had been prominently displayed in all of the portraits of the old Counts. It was the ring of County Buckland, the holder of which was the legal ruler of the county. That meant the sword was the ceremonial sword of Buckland. How had it come to light here, and what was the present ruler of Buckland using in it’s place?

“The possessor of that ring and this sword, Celia, is the legal ruler of Buckland County. This mystery gets curiouser and curiouser. I must think about this. Let’s put the sword back in the chest and hide it back where we can find it easily. We may need it,” Gabe told her.

It was very late now. The wind howled outside, and the snow continued to fall and blow around. Gabe heated the remainder of the porridge, and they both ate that. Celia took the dishes and pot, and cleaned them in some water, then sat them near the fire to dry.

They prepared to sleep for the night. Gabe already had his coat off as the fire had warmed the area nicely. He lay out the blanket and his cloak on top of the mattress and got ready to bank the fire as Celia returned from washing the dishes. She untied the knot in her pants and dropped them on the mattress. She then removed the woolen shirt that she had been wearing. The other shirt was made of linen and she tried it on. It was apparent that she was not concerned about appearing nude before Gabe. This second shirt was a little smaller and fit her better. She came over to Gabe as he removed his boots and pants.

“Master,” she whispered, her voice husky, “will you hold me tonight to keep me warm ... please Master.”

“Yes, my sweet Little One. I’ll hold you for the night,” Gabe assured her. He banked the fire, and they both got under the covers. Gabe used his pack as a pillow and Celia used his shoulder as one. They were both soon asleep.

Some time in the middle of the night, they were both awakened by the howling of several dogs or wolves. It was a terrible, lonesome sound. Celia clutched Gabe for all she was worth. Her little hands had surprising strength as she shook in fear. Gabe held her close, and reassured her that they could not get in as both doors were barred. Celia held him and cried anyway. He leaned over and kissed her lips hoping that it would quiet her down. Celia returned the kiss as passionately as any woman he had ever known, and a lot more than many. She sobbed, and her breathing was ragged. Gabe held her to himself being careful of her injured back. After some time, Celia’s breathing eased, and her sobbing ceased, as she slipped into a dreamless sleep, warm in Gabe’s arms.

When they awoke in the morning, it was still snowing, but the wind had died down considerably. The shack was cold. There was ice in the large crock. Gabe got his pants, socks, boots and coat on, all of which were cold. He got some of the dried weeds and uncovering the banked fire in the fireplace, fed the weeds in and soon had a good flame going. He added some of the hickory chips that he had trimmed from the handles yesterday and then some of the remaining furniture parts. When the fire picked up, he then added firewood from the pile and soon had a good blaze going.

Celia awoke soon after Gabe had started on the fire. She put on the shirt from yesterday over the one she had worn through the night. Then she put on the pants and tied the rope belt around her waist. The floor was very cold to her bare feet.

When Gabe had the fire going well, he reached for his pack and rummaged around in it and came out with a spare pair of wool socks. Of course they were way too big for Celia, but when doubled over gave some protection for her feet.

“We need to make some more food to eat,” Gabe told her after she had the socks on.

“Yes, my Master Gabe. I am looking for the pestle. It must be here somewhere,” Celia said as she searched around the fireplace.

“I couldn’t find one yesterday and used the end of a trowel handle,” Gabe told her.

Celia was running her hand along the mantel board above the fireplace when she found what she was looking for. The pestle was two inches in diameter at one end which was hemispherical and tapered over it’s eight inch length to about one inch in diameter. It appeared to be granite or a similar stone.

“How did you find that?” Gabe asked, in wonder.

“It was where I would have put it,” Celia said happily, as she sat on the mattress, took grain from the crock, placed it in the metal pot sitting on the floor, and started to mash it with the pestle. She soon had enough meal to make their porridge for the day.

Gabe took out more of the venison jerky and started to cut it up into smaller pieces. Celia took the kettle hanging over the fire, poured water into the pot, and hung the pot on the crane to start it heating. After a while Gabe added the venison and some salt and pepper from his stores. He hadn’t bothered with seasonings yesterday.

Next he got out his block of chocolate and shaved some off with with his knife into his tin pot, added a bit of small maple sugar pieces and then scraped some cinnamon from a stick of it. All went into the tin pot. When the water in the kettle was really hot, Gabe poured some in the pot and stirred it with a small silver spoon. He hung the tin pot on the crane to heat the contents to a boil. When done, he let it cool a little, then poured part of it into his tin cup and sipped it slowly. He refilled the cup and offered it to Celia. When she tasted the hot chocolate, her face lit up.

“Master Gabe, this is delicious,” she breathed.

“Go ahead and finish all of that. I have enough for several more days. We shall enjoy some each day,” he told her. He had also removed a cloth bag containing raisins. He put a small handful into the cooking porridge. Celia had been stirring it occasionally with a wooden spoon that she had also found on the mantel board.

When the porridge was done, she spooned some into each bowl with the wooden spoon, and they prepared to eat. The porridge was excellent, much better than yesterday. The properly ground grain with the venison, raisins and seasonings made a meal fit for a king – or a duke at least.

As they ate, Celia said, “Master Gabe, there are also two candle holders on the mantel board. I thought you should know.”

“Celia, you are a real treasure,” Gabe told her, as he pulled her toward him and kissed her again. Celia returned it with enthusiasm again also. She started to coo in her throat. She reached for Gabe to pull herself closer to him. The muscles in her back reacted very badly to this, causing Celia to moan in pain instead.

“What’s wrong, Little One?” Gabe asked.

“My back, it’s still very sore, Master Gabe,” Celia told.

“There is still some salve, would you like me to put some on your back?” Gabe asked.

“After we finish eating, Master Gabe,” Celia told him. “Then will you kiss me some more too. It makes me feel very good down between my legs.” When they had finished their meal, Celia took the pot with the remaining porridge in it over by the window. It was colder there than near the fire. Then she washed the bowls, horn spoons and wooden spoon in some water from the crock. She also washed the tin pot and cup. They would need more water soon, she noted.

Then she returned to the mattress where Gabe was sitting, watching her. He had placed the jar of salve near the fire to warm it some so it could be applied on her back easily. Celia sat on the mattress and removed the outer shirt and then the inner shirt. The shack was cold and her small nipples soon rose up and protruded in the cold. She pulled the outer shirt up to cover herself partly while Gabe carefully applied the salve to her back. Gabe thought her back looked better than yesterday. It was still very sore and a long way from healed, but better. He finished applying the salve and replaced the lid.

Celia reached out with her right hand while the left held the shirt to her chest. She grasped Gabe’s hand and moved it to her breast, while moaning.

“Master, please,” she begged. She held his hand on her breast with her own small hand, and then moved his hand around on her breast. Her eyes were closed, her breathing was ragged, and she moaned. Gabe leaned forward and kissed her neck, moving her hair out of the way first. Celia started to squirm and shiver. She moved Gabe’s hand to her other breast and started to pant.

“My sweet Little One,” Gabe said to her, “you need to put your shirts back on. It’s cold in here and you need to keep warm.”

“Please my Master,” Celia moaned, “keep touching me. Do not leave me in misery and alone.”

“Put the shirts on first, Celia,” Gabe told her sternly. “You may leave the front open if you desire me to touch you.”

“Oh yes, my Master. Touch me and kiss me and hold me. I need you so,” Celia moaned, as her body shook with desire. She thought that now she understood what the other girls had said about needing a Master’s touch, and their desire for him to fuck their brains out and make them scream in ecstasy. Her body knew that need now. She hurriedly replaced both shirts, leaving the fronts gaping open. She repositioned herself on the mattress between her Master’s outstretched legs and leaned back into him.

She found both of his hands with hers and brought them back to her small breasts. Those breasts being cold had the nipples protruding still also. She started rubbing his hands over her breasts in a circular motion. It didn’t take a lot of encouragement on her part to get Gabe rubbing her breasts on his own. He leaned in and licked and kissed her ear. Celia shivered. Her breathing was really ragged by now. Her desire was a raging inferno in her belly.

“Master, please, make me a woman. My belly is on fire with desire. I need you so. Please, my Master!” Celia moaned in distress.

“Celia, you’re sweet and desirable, but you’re too young yet for me to make you a woman,” Gabe told her. He was really uncomfortable even doing this, because she was so sweet and desirable. Her injuries would make it impractical to take her on her back anyway.

“My Master, please,” Celia wailed in despair. She released his right hand and reached down to undo the rope holding up her pants. When she had them open, she grasped his right hand again and brought it down inside the pants to where her pussy was leaking.

Gabe hadn’t realized what was happening until his hand was inside the over size pants she wore. He had been too busy enjoying the feeling of her small breasts in his hands. His hand slipped over her flat belly and down to her mound as if by itself. His fingers slipped between her legs to caress her wet and leaking slit.

“Oh God, my Master! Yes, yes rub me there, harder ... harder, make me finish,” she implored him.

Gabe kept rubbing her breast with his left hand and stroking her slit with his right. Celia had opened her legs to give him better access. Her moans had increased and her body shook. After a few minutes or so of this treatment, her legs clamped down on Gabe’s hand and her body stiffened under the grasp of his left hand, She shook and moaned for nearly a half minute while flooding Gabe’s trapped hand with her juices.

Celia slumped in Gabe’s arms for several minutes until she began to recover. There was a dazed look on her face. When she was somewhat recovered, she said, “Thank you, my Master. That was better than I have ever done myself. Please, make me a woman soon. I still need you so. Do not let me die a child,” she pleaded with a whimper.

“Little One, you’re not going to die,” Gabe told her. He had been shocked by what she had said.