His name was Juan Cerveza de la Noche.

At different points in his life, he was an elite soldier for his king, a mercenary, a pirate, and most recently, a bodyguard.

This night, he was a fugitive. Had a soul asked him what his crime was, he would have smiled and said, "My crime? She was passion."

Namely, Lord Redlen of Sudhoff wanted to kill him for the untimely deflowering of his daughter.

Juan crouched amid the pews of the ruined chapel. He moved like a fox, slinking between the long, low, high-backed benches as Lord Redlen and his henchmen sought for him.

"Come out, you cur!" yelled Redlen as he again heard scuttering noises among the benches, and his men were forced to change tack to try to bracket the elusive Rojando.

"I do not think you will be kindly disposed to me, should I acquiesce," came the reply, echoing off the ancient granite walls.

The henchmen, four of the lord's finest and most loyal of guards, changed direction again, based upon the nobleman's hand gestures. "You haven't a chance, Rojando," said Redlen, "We will catch you and string you up by your balls!"

"Hence why I will not be coming out," came the response, his thick Rojando accent giving the words a softness and richness that was notably lacking in the Southron language.

One of the henchmen dove over a bench, yelling with rage as he thought he caught sight of the slender, dark-haired man they had chased from the manor house, some three miles up the road.

"I do not know what you think you were jumping upon," said Juan, in a whisper to the henchman, "but it was not me."

The henchman looked up just in time to see the pommel of a rapier coming toward his head. Then there was a sudden flash, followed by darkness.

With an agility possessed by one who was used to being pursued, Juan slipped under the pew to his left and popped up three rows over. He poked his head up over the level of the high backs, to see where his opponents were now, and in the dimness of the night, with only moonlight pouring in through shattered stained glass, saw movement.

Just in time, he ducked as a crossbow bolt whizzed over his head, nearly parting his well-oiled hair. "That is very unsporting," he said, "to be using ranged weapons upon me." He pronounced ranged as 'rain-jed'."

"It will be unsporting when I castrate you, filthy bastard," said Redlen, ordering his men, again with hand gestures toward where the head had briefly popped up.

There was a moment of silence, then Juan said from among the pews, "You seem to have a fascination with that portion of my anatomy, is there something I should know?"

One of the henchmen gave out a brief snort before catching himself and the enraged expression upon Redlen's face.

The lord of Sudhoff howled in frustration and smashed the long wooden bench before him with his greatsword, cleaving it in two. Wood chips flew about and the noise of it echoed from the rafters and walls of the old chapel. "You should know that I am going to kill you!" he screamed.

"Why did you not say so?" said a very mild voice from behind Redlen. He felt a prick of steel against the back of his neck. "I do not recommend you turning around, this sword is very sharp."

The remaining three of Lord Redlen's men gaped at the reappearance of the elusive Rojando directly behind their master and employer. "Please to tell your men to throw their swords away from them."

"Do what he says," growled Redlen, sweat beading on his brow. Redlen was not a young man, but had many years left in him, and a sudden and abiding desire overcame him to see most of them through.

"It would also be a very nice gesture on your part to toss away that great cleaver you carry, milord," said Juan in a soft lilt.

With a clumsy jerk the din of steel on granite was joined by a louder clang of his massive two-handed weapon. "You will be hanged for this," he muttered.

"And that is worse how?" asked the Rojando.

Redlen felt the point leave his neck and started to spin about, his great fist knotting into a large ball of bone and meat and spinning about to clobber the offensive man.

When his eyes came about, all he saw was teeth and claws as the cat struck him in the head. With a sound like a demon from the pits, the cat began trying to take evasive measures in mid-flight. This, of course, meant that when he hit the nobleman's face, he was already flailing those clawed feet.

Lord Redlen screamed as he fought to remove the cat from his head. A goal that they both shared, even if they worked at cross purpose to achieve it. By the time he managed to hurl the cat from him and searched the dark floor of the church for his sword, he and his men heard the galloping of hooves and knew that their horses had just been stolen.

"I want that son of a bitch dead!" yelled Redlen, grabbing one guard by the tunic and shoving him away from himself.

"I had no idea daddy, what that horrid man was doing to me," said Elke, lord Redlen's daughter, sobbing and sitting upon a couch. "He simply told me it would feel good."

"He took advantage of your innocence," said Redlen, glaring out the window. "You could not have known what a bastard like him was about."

She sobbed again into her handkerchief and fell upon her face, crying into the cushions of the couch.

"Go to bed, dear, and I will have a priest come to bless you on the morrow," said Redlen.

Elke gave a shuddering sigh and left the chamber, the door silently closed behind her as her handmaiden followed her flight.

Upon the door shutting, the young woman's whole demeanor changed, and she stood upright. She turned to smile at her handmaiden, Trinna. "By the One, it was as good as you said it would be!" said Elke, taking Trinna's hands. "It was like my whole body was tensed like a bow."

Trinna giggled along with the young noblewoman. "Yes, milady, I would never have recommended Juan's company if he were not skilled."

"Skilled doesn't come close to describing it, my good woman," Elke sighed, throwing herself upon her massive bed. "Had I known what it felt like, I would have given myself to a man long ago."

"Now, milady, not all men are as talented as Juan, don't go thinking they are,"cautioned the handmaiden.

Elke's head lifted from the feather mattress. "How do I know when they are?" she asked, eyeing her best friend dubiously.

"Their kiss," said Trinna.

"Just that?" asked Elke. "I like kissing."

"Yes, I've seen you with young Lord Hohenseim," said Trinna conspiratorially.

The noblewoman's face grew alarmed. "I thought we were being discreet," she said.

"You were, milady, but it is my business to keep up with you and your activities," said the handmaiden, still smiling.

Elke's head fell back onto the mattress. "I wish to see him again," she sighed out.

"I will let him know," replied Trinna. "Though I daresay you will have to meet him somewhere other than here, after this night."

"For pleasure such as that, I would happily wallow in mud," said Elke.

Trinna giggled again. "I don't think you will have to sink that low for another meeting."

"Who said anything about sinking low? I like mud," replied Elke, laughing and looking up at the canopy on her bed. "At midnight, you are relieved are you not?"

"Yes, milady," said Trinna.

"Will you go to — him?" asked the young noblewoman.

The handmaiden thought a short moment. "Would that bother you, Elke? I ask as a friend," she said.

Elke turned and raised her head up on one elbow. "Why would that bother me? I have received pleasure this night, and that will not be lessened by your receiving the same."

"Then, I say, yes, I planned to meet him this night, after midnight," replied Trinna.

The noblewoman smiled. "I envy you that, dear Trinna. That you are free to see whom you will, when you wish." she paused a long moment, "and bed them!" She broke into peals of laughter again.

Trinna smiled at Elke, running her fingers through her own chestnut hair. "I suppose nobility and peasantry are both two-edged swords," she said sagely.

"That they are, my dear friend," said Elke, a sober expression coming to her mirthful face.

"She said she wishes to see me again?" asked Juan, sitting upon the bed and watching the lovely Trinna remove her tight corset.

Trinna smiled over her shoulder at him. "Yes, she's very taken with your — skills," she said. Pulling the corset off, and releasing her large, round breasts. She turned about, now only wearing a sheer cotton slip.

Juan's eyes widened as he took in her well-rounded breasts, and their dark, large nipples. "You are magnificent, woman," said Juan, folding his arms around her waist as he sat and nuzzling into her bosem.

She stroked his neck and murmured, "I will bring her here to you tomorrow night."

Juan's hands slid up the outsides of Trinna's long thighs and then gripped her rump. "I would rather have you here, again," he said.

"I will have to come, also, but I doubt the lady will wish to share you," said Trinna, kissing the top of his head.

Juan looked up at her, his eyes nearly pure black in the center. "Why did you offer to get us together, I wonder?"

"Milady seemed very depressed that she would loose her innocence to some old man who would just hump her and then fall asleep atop her," she replied. "Now, even if married off to some fossil, she has known the affection of a man who knows how to give it. Besides, a treasure like your lovemaking should be shared, not hoarded away for only one person to enjoy."

She untied the cord holding her slip in place and Juan pulled his hands from beneath it. It fell to the floor in a white puddle of cloth and she stepped forward and straddled his already nude form. "Can you perform again, so soon after the session with milady?" she asked.

He grinned at her and pulled her into his belly, forcing his erection between them. "Do noblemen hate to hear of their daughters' deflowering?"

Trinna giggled and reached down to stroke the spike of hard flesh between them. She looked into his handsome face, with his wide smile and dark, mysterious eyes. "Yes," she whispered as she lifted her body and impaled herself upon his cock.

Trinna stood quietly in the shadows of an alley, several blocks from the inn where Juan was staying. A short, fat man approached her. "Will she be coming?" he asked, peering at her with cold eyes.

"Yes, she will be out of the way on the night of the morrow," Trinna said, her eyes darting up and down the darkened street.

He chuckled. "Warming the bed of that idiot Rojando, no doubt," he murmured. "Very good, we don't want her getting caught in the mess, do we?"

The handmaiden, who dearly loved her mistress, shook her head. "No, I don't want her involved."

The short man reached into his tunic and pulled forth a small pouch. "For making our odious task easier, Trinna," he said, holding it out.

She cautiously took hold of the pouch, noting its rather substantial weight. It disappeared into the folds of her long dress. "I feel ashamed for what I have done," she whispered.

"Why would you feel that way?" a wide smile came to the man's lips, a smile that made him seem even more greasy than he already did. "You're saving your mistress' life, out of devotion to her. I'd say that was a admirable thing to do. Anyone with a whit of decency would say the same."

Trinna nodded slowly, and took another glance up the street. "I should go rest, I've a busy day on the morrow."

The man, she did not know his name, nodded. "It'd be prudent to have your wits about you," he said.

Juan Cerveza stood in front of the merchant, eyeing the potion dubiously. "Completely invisible?" he asked.

"Indeed, sir, totally," said the Ghantian, holding up the tiny vial of faintly glowing red liquid. "And for only ten marks, it's a bargain."

"I am sure it is such a bargain, if it truly works," said Juan, puckering his lips as he thought. "It would surely afford me a moment to gather my wits after inadvertent discovery."

"I'll even add a little holder so that you can wear it about your neck to prevent losing it," said the merchant, very hopeful of a sale.

Juan nodded. "That would be very nice," he said. "I will take it, but it had better be a working potion."

"I guarantee it," said the merchant, sounding offended.

Juan handed over the requisite ten silver coins, stamped with the face of some unknown nobleman and a dragon rampant on the back.

A few moments later, the merchant handed him the vial, entwined with copper wire and hanging from a short leather loop. He slipped it over his head and gave the merchant what he thought was his most threatening look. "It will work?"

"It will," confirmed the merchant, smiling broadly.

Juan sauntered off down the street, grinning to himself. He liked magical baubles, and owned several. Prized among them was his sword, which he knew brought him good luck, for since he had acquired it, he had never been stabbed.

That he had never been stabbed before that bore little weight in his thoughts. Generally speaking, weighty thoughts were a foreign concept to the Rojando. His theory was that those belonged to philosophers and, perhaps, wizards.

He struck a tinderstick upon the wall and lit his pipe. "This will be a night to remember, I can feel it," he said to no one in particular, flicking the tinderstick over his shoulder.

He was almost two blocks away when the alchemist merchant's stall went up in a pyrotechnic display that impressed folks around Sudhoff immensely. The merchant himself, being a man of quick wit, had managed to run and dive into a nearby trough, but his stall was still raining down in burning hunks as he came up for air.

"I can't believe I am going to slip away from the manor and have a tryst with Juan," said Elke as Trinna scrubbed her hair. She sat in an ornate tub, rose petals floated on the surface of the water, which rose up to her chest. "You are certain you don't mind sharing him?"

Trinna giggled and ladled another cup of water through her mistress' long, auburn hair. "Not at all, milady," she said. Trinna herself was clad only in a loose-fitting slip, so as to not wet her clothes.

"Please, we share a lover, you can use my right name, Trinna," said Elke, looking over her shoulder at her handmaiden. "Besides, we've been friends for three years now."

"Of course, Elke," said Trinna, taking up the rag and beginning to scrub Elke's back. "But I am still subject of your father and in your employ."

The noblewoman smiled up at her. "Then let me bathe you," she said.

"What?" asked Trinna, her eyes widening to saucers.

"I wish to give you a bath, you've done it for me enough times," repeated Elke.

The handmaiden blinked a few times. "It's not proper, Elke. I'm your servant."

Elke got a look of good-humored haughtiness on her face. "Then do as I ask, and let me bathe you." She rose from the water, the soapy bubbles sliding off her smooth skin in a cascade of sweet-smelling water. Elke turned to Trinna. "Now, into the tub."

Trinna hesitated a moment, but then smiled and stood herself. "I don't expect you to do all of the bathing duties upon me, Elke."

Elke got a look of shock on her oval face. "But I will," she said. "Even the shaving."

Trinna slid her slip down her thighs. "Seriously, I don't think... "

"You think I cannot handle a razor?" asked Elke, smiling. "Fearful that I will cut your privates?"

Trinna's eyes crew wider. "Well, to tell the truth, yes."

The young noblewoman smiled. "Since I was fifteen, you've shaven my privates, but I did do it myself before that."

"I had wondered, mila — Elke," said Trinna. The tall, slim handmaiden stepped into the tub and sat down. Elke knelt beside the tub, ladling water into the other woman's brown hair.

"I've wanted to wash your hair a long while, Trinna, it's so thick and pretty," she said, stroking the long tresses as the water flowed through the dense strands.

Trinna smiled in pleasure as the warm water sluiced over her scalp, followed by the gentle scratching of Elke's long-nailed fingers. The scent of the rosewater pervaded the air and relaxed the young handmaiden more.

"Elke, that feels wondrous," she said, smiling and giving out a soft moan.

"Good," replied the young noblewoman. "That is how it feels every time you wash my hair."

It took a long while for Elke to bathe Trinna, as she was rather unskilled in the art, and she seemed to be enjoying the process. When the matter of cleaning of private areas came up, she did not hesitate, and scrubbed and rinsed with a rather professional expression upon her face. "You have such smooth skin, Trinna, I am a bit envious," she said as she ran a soapy rag over the handmaiden's long thighs.

Trinna barked out a laugh. "Envious? Why?" she asked. "Your skin is smoother by far." One hand moved from Trinna to Elke's stomach and stroked her slender fingertips down the taut skin. "You've beautiful skin. So fair."

"I like the color of yours, to be truthful," said Elke, scrubbing the slightly olive toned skin. "You are clean, Trinna."

Trinna stepped from the tub and grabbed a large towel from a hook. "No, stop that," said Elke, playfully, snatching the towel. "My job," she added, playfully glaring at the taller servant.

The handmaiden stood passively as the noblewoman toweled her dry, gently rubbing the smooth, tanned skin and leaving only the soft, freshly-washed texture behind.

"Now, lie upon the table," said Elke, pointing to the long table near the tub. Elke did as told, lying down gingerly. The young noblewoman walked up beside her and sat a steaming bowl of water next to Trinna's hip. She also held a large flask of oil. The oil she poured onto Trinna's delicate pubic mound soaking the tight, dark curls.

She squirmed as it crept between her thighs and slid up the crack of her backside. "Relax," said Elke, placing one slender hand upon Trinna's thigh, urging it to move away from it's partner.

With only a bit of hesitation, Trinna spread her legs apart, as she made Elke do on nearly countless ocassions. She flushed slightly as she thought of how exposed she was right now to her mistress. Elke rubbed the pubic mound gently, kneading the oils into the hairs and softening the skin beneath.

"You have some growing down the sides and toward your backside, dear," said Elke, matter-of-factly. Trinna knew this was her cue to spread her legs farther, until her knees were bent and her calves hung down from the table on either side. "Very good."

The handmaiden gasped at the touch of cold steel at the top of her pubic hair, and felt the blade slide silky smooth over the skin. She would have to compliment the steward of the house on his job in keeping implements admirably sharp in the household.

Every moment or two, Elke would stop and rinse off the blade in the bowl of water, but slowly, inexorably, she shaved off all the hairs in the main patch, leaving baby-smooth skin behind. She then stopped, a quizzical look upon her face. "You don't mind me — well — doing what you do to get the sides?"

"No, Elke," said Trinna, smiling, "I've far more experience with fingers in there than you, and you don't mind me doing it."

Elke slowly slid two fingers past the softly-folded lips of Trinna's entrance, only an inch or so, then curled them to pull the skin beside her entrance taut and smooth. The handmaiden inhaled sharply as the blade slid just up to her labia, then lifted, only to start at the junction of her thigh again.

The noblewoman smiled. "See, I've not cut you, Trinna," said Elke, turning her hand about and lifting the other side of Trinna's soft skin taut.

Trinna sighed. "No, you've not hurt me, at all, Elke," she said. The noblewoman looked at her a moment, noting the half-lidded eyes and faint smile.

"Are you enjoying this?" asked Elke finally.

Trinna sighed. "I confess that I do, mi — Elke," she said.

Elke leaned very close to her and whispered into the cup of her ear, "I enjoy it when you do it, as well."

A deep blush suffused the handmaiden's features as the noblewoman leaned back and slid her fingers gently from Trinna's entrance. "You need to lift your legs and hold them up for me," she said.

Trinna, again, did as she was told, pulling her knees to her shoulders and grabbing them with her hands. Elke leaned in and gently shaved the patch of skin between entry and anus, then a few stray strands around the handmaiden's backside. Trinna gasped as the blade slipped gently and slid over her sphincter.

"No cut, promise," said Elke, grinning. Then she leaned back, smiling broadly. "All done."

The handmaiden lifted her head and shoulders and looked down at her now smooth pubic mound, then rand a experimental hand between her thighs, and felt nothing but very smooth skin and the delicate folds of her entrance. Elke had done a splendid job of it, she decided. Elke gently moved her hand out from between her thighs. "Not yet, though, one more step," she chided.

Trinna smiled and leaned back, again spreading her thighs apart. Elke moved inward with a soft rag which was soaked with oils and essences. She rubbed it over the handmaiden's pubic mound and then between her legs, over her opening. There was a rapid cooling sensation as these special oils soaked into the skin, causing Trinna to gasp again.