Chapter 21

Olnfield, the Kingdom of Wuthia, 1125

Solomon Laenas (Jared Faerson)

The streets of Olnfield were alive with restless energy as twilight fell. Banners of deep red and yellow hang from timbered balconies, their cloth fluttering like the wings of ravens in the cooling air. Merchants have shuttered their shops early, their stalls now laden not with trade goods but with offerings of spiced wine, candied nuts, roasted meats, and crimson-dyed breads baked in honor of the moon’s hue.

At the heart of the town square, a great bonfire is prepared, stacked so high it seems to challenge the stars themselves. Young apprentices and children, their faces painted with streaks of ochre and vermilion, carry torches to light it.

Jugglers toss torches that paint streaks of fire against the ruddy glow of the sky. Masked dancers whirl in circles, their garments trailing ribbons dyed in crimson and gold. Musicians beat on drums carved from ox-hide and pluck lutes that add a haunting tune to the night. The rhythm grows faster, encouraging laughter, drinking, and dancing until even the most pious forget their virtues.

At midnight, when the moon stands directly overhead, the fire is cast with herbs—sage, rosemary, and crushed berries—sending sparks into the air. Each person in the town casts a token into the flames: a ribbon, a carved charm, a lock of hair, or a scrap of parchment with a written wish. They believe that under the crimson moon, the fire carries these offerings to the pastoral saints who may grant protection, fertility, or fortune for the year to come.

This festival was amazing.

I walked along with the rest of my family as we joined in the merriments like the other townsfolk. I snacked on one of the candied nuts that I brought from one of the stalls early. It was the perfect mixture of sweet and salty. It was really good.

“I have never seen such a beautiful festival,” Bridget said. “Well, I had never seen a festival at all. Crowkeep never had any to think of.”

“It is a beautiful festival,” Mabel said. She nibbled on one of the crimson-dyed breads. “Even the food is quite good.”

We passed the bonfire at the center of the town. I could see some men still placing more wood on the fire as the moon drew nearer.

“Should we toss a token in the fire when it is lit?” Bridget asked.

“I will,” Richard said. “It should be fun, and we can use more good fortune and protection for the new year.”

“I can agree to that,” Mabel said.

While we were already so fortunate so far, it wouldn’t hurt to have some more good fortune in the future. After all, it’s part of the town’s festival tradition, and we are now part of the town, so we should join in on such traditions.

My eyes spotted a few of the Phasionites also enjoying in on the festivities. They looked so happy to be a part of it. It was a good idea to allow them to go to this festival, good for morale and to strengthen their favor toward us. And it was the right thing to do as their bosses. We are not cruel, and we are certainly unreasonable.

We continued our walk around the town, soaking in all of the joy and beauty. The town glowed as though it had been dressed in red silk. Every lantern is painted with crimson glass, casting warm, rose-colored light across cobblestones polished by countless feet. Flowers—roses, carnations, and dyed garlands of ivy—hang from beams and doorways, so that the air itself carries a perfume of summer, even though autumn has begun to cool the nights.

Couples whirl in dancing circles, skirts and cloaks billowing, while children dart between them with streamers, their laughter ringing as clear as bells. The music flowed through us all, tapping at every muscle in our bodies, slowly pulling us into the dancing crowd.

Richard smiled as he took Bridget’s hand. “May have this dance, m’lady,” he said with a mocking gentleman’s bow.

Bridget smiled. “You may, m’lord.” The two rushed in and joined the dancing crowds. They danced with so much joy and delight. While I had never seen Bridget dance before, she was quite good with her feet and moved her body with perfection to the rhythm of the music. Richard was no amateur on the dance floor as well. I, however, wasn’t blessed with such dancing feet.

I looked to Mabel. “Do you want to dance?”

“Not at the moment,” she said. “I still want to see more of this festival.”

We left Richard and Bridget to their dancing as we continued our walk through the town. Closer to the festival’s center, a fountain has been dyed crimson with crushed berries, and petals float on its surface. Lovers slip away to toss coins into it together, whispering their hopes beneath the glowing sky. For the crimson moon, according to legend, blesses new beginnings, deepens bonds of love, and brings dreams into the waking world.

Mabel and I stopped in front of the fountain. I slowly held one coin in my hand. I brought it to my lips, where I whispered one of my hopes into the coin before tossing it into the crimson water. It sank to the bottom of the fountain, where it joined with the many coins filled with all manner of hopes and dreams.

“What did you hope for?” Mabel asked, curiosity in her beautiful eyes.

“I can’t tell you that,” I said. “If I tell anyone, it wouldn’t come true.”

“Well,” Mabel said as she pulled out a coin. She placed it to her lips, whispered her own hopes inside of it, and tossed it into the fountain. “Mine is to be forever happy with the people I love.”

I sighed. “Why would you tell me that? Now it won’t come true.”

She turned to face me. “What if it already came true?”

We stood staring at each other. Our eyes staring deep into one another, looking past our physical exterior, and looking deep into one another’s hearts – our passions, our devotions, our desires, and especially, our love. She slowly wrapped her arms about my neck. Then I leaned into her sweet lips in a kiss. I embraced her into my chest as our kiss grew more passionate, our tongues inserting into each other’s mouths, a dance of flesh and passion. In the distance, the festivities raged onward, music and laughter filling the air.

We broke the kiss and continued to stare into each other’s eyes.

“Was this what you had hoped for?” I grinned, holding her in my embrace.

“With all my heart,” she smiled, her arms still wrapped around my neck. “ I never felt this way with anyone. I only feel this way when I’m with you.”

“I feel the same way,” I said. “I couldn’t bear to not be with you. I love you, Mabel. More than any brother should love his sister. And I don’t care if it’s forbidden. I want to be with you.”

She smiled. “I love you too, Solomon. More than a sister should love her brother. You are the only man I will ever love like this.”

I was overcome with passion and desire. I pulled her face into mine as I kissed her with so much passion and pleasure. It was a fiery, passionate kiss; one tongue wrestling and exploring each other as we let our desire take over.

“Make love to me, brother,” Mabel moaned as she broke the kiss. My dick was hard. I scooped up Mabel in my arms and carried her off to a nearby inn, dodging through the many crowds who joyed the festivities. Her lips were hot against me as she squirmed in my arms.

Olnfield, the Kingdom of Wuthia, 1125

Bridget (Sesa Faerson)

Richard and I danced for what seemed to be hours. My feet and body moved with so much rhythm and passion, along with the rest of the crowd. Afterwards, we decided to re-energize ourselves by having a quick drink at a nearby tavern. The Nimble Lyre was not located near the center, but the tavern, Hovel and Shovel Pub, was. It was a nice, adequate tavern, and it was one of the taverns that Richard invested quite greatly in.

I had no idea how much Richard invested, but he can likely have his fingers in every inn and tavern in Olnfield.

Richard led us to the tavern. A group of people – men and women- laughed and were merry around the outside entrance of the tavern. It was quite bustling inside, but still had enough room that were able to move around freely. We managed to grab a seat by the bar, where the barmaid served us a nice mug of rum. We gulped it down in a minute.

“That was refreshing,” Richard said, slamming his mug down on the bar.

“So was the dance,” I said. “You are quite a dancer.”

“You weren’t bad yourself,” he said.

Laughter filled the tavern as more people jostled in. The festival, it seems, has now begun pouring into every establishment in the town. Soon, the entire town, both inside and outside, will be filled with merriment and the festivities. The shouting and laughing grew when something interesting came into the pub.

“Who brought this mule in here?” A man laughed.

“Surely animals would like to enjoy these festivities,” giggled one of the women.

“Surely enough,” another man laughed. “The more the merry.”

I peered through the crowd, trying to see this mule. It wasn’t long before a scrawny man came by, with the mule wrapped around in a leash. He was quite a young mule compared to Willow. He had a brown coat with a black mane. The man tied the mule to a nearby chair as he came up to the bar to gather a drink. “Pretty mule,” I said.

“Thanks,” the man said. “Names Jag, and he can be a feisty one at times. But more recently now. Probably because he’s in heat.”

I turned to face the mule. I caught a glimpse of his red cock, which was pretty hard underneath him as he shifted around the table. It needed to mate, and from our anxious it was, it would use any female animal it could. My pussy went wet.

“Hey,” the bar owner said to the man. “I don’t run this kind of establishment that allows animals inside. Take that ass out to the stables behind the back.”

“I can do it,” I quickly volunteered. “You enjoy your drink, good sir; it shouldn’t be too much of a hassle to get Jag here to the stables.”

“Thanks, lass,” the man said as he went back to his drink.

“Don’t mention it,” I said as I untied Jag’s leash and walked him to the back entrance. I glanced back at Richard, and he grinned at me, giving me a wicked wink as I exited the tavern. The stables weren’t big, but they were suitable. It had hay and a water station, but best of all, it was empty.

“Now then, Jag,” I said, taking the leash off the mule. “Let’s get you comfortable.” My eyes were fixed on his cock underneath him.

My lust grew. My pussy was a hot itch in my pants. I squirmed, my hard nipples pressing on my tight, leather bodice. I slowly started to unlace my bodice and took out my breasts. They were bare for all to see, especially Jab, letting them spill out as my vest slipped to the hay floor.

“I know the feelings,” I said, massaging my breast. “You need to fuck, but can’t find someone to grant you such a release.” The mule whimpered as he grew excited at the sight of my breasts.

My pussy clenched in response.

“I can give you that release,” I announced, stepping closer to Jag as I unlaced my trousers. “Oh, yes. I can surely give you the release you so desperately need.”

He whimpered again. His nose twitched. He knows I was wet for him.