The Angry Mermaid 51 Y Morforwyn Dicllon 51

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Drustina finds herself at odds with the jarl who tries to screw her for high transit fees whilse passing the Storebealt from Baltic to North Sea.

The Angry mermaid 51

Or

Y Morforwyn Dicllon 51.

Mabina. The youngest daughter and Twin to
Drustan Her twin brother.
Grandpa Erin the twins grandfather.
Giana The twins grandmother
Caderyn The twins father.
Herenoie The twins wise and beautiful mother.
Morgaran The Twins oldest brother.
Aiofe The twins oldest sister. Famous for her beauty.
Tara The twins second oldest sister. Famous for her grace.
Feidlim Twins aunt (Caderyns’ beautiful sister.)
Mogantu Twins uncle (Married to Feidlim.) Chief of the Gangani tribe.
Brun. Twins 2nd cousin and the Acaman clans’ blacksmith.
Feorin. Twins second brother. Also training to be a blacksmith.
Rhun Feidlims’ son and Feorins’ favourite 1st Cousin. (Both red-heads.)
Arina Child of a Demetae fisherman, (rescued by Aiofe, Drustan and Mabina.)
Penderol Dumnonii Minor chief.
Udris Young Dumnonii warrior.
Dryslwyn High chief of the whole Celtic nation. Dwells in Brithony.
Bronlwyn Dryslwyn’s wife (and queen.)
Magab The moor who taught numbers.
Eric Saxon galley slave rescued from Corsair pirates.
Carl Another Saxon galley slave rescued by Drustan.
Torvel Celtic galley slave rescued from the same captured corsair ship
Arton. Turdetani Chieftain Holder of Gibral Rock.
Carinia Arton’s wife.
Isobel. Arton’s adopted daughter.
Appotel King of the Turdetani Tribe. (Southern Iberia.)
Bramana Queen. (Wife of Appotel)
Pilus King of the Capetani.
Shaleen Pilus’s queen and sister to Bramana.
Pedoro Lord Marshal of the Southern border region.
Lady Shulaar Lord Pedoro’s wife.
Taan. The scullery maid.
Isaar. Pedoro’s oldest son.
Ferdie Pedoro’s 2nd son
Sular Pedoro’s 3rd son
Gontala Pedoro’s youngest son.
Shenoa Pedoro’s only daughter.
Portega. Tyrant King to the west.
Portua. Portega’s grandson.
Jubail. Old Fisherman.
Mutas Magab’s younger brother and usurper.
Walezia King of Malta.
Alviar Megalomaniacal bishop of Carthage. (Hates Drustina.)
Ethelia Female healer who treats Drustina during her pregnancy.
Seripatese Drustina’s faithful horse.
Astos & Amitor Minor royalty who govern Alexandria. King and Twin Queen.
Meronee Nubian Queen of Nobatia The northern Kingdom of the Nubians.
Horam The Egyptian master Boat builder.
Muraa King Astos’s male partner.
Tuk Makurian general.
Fantu. Makurian Captain.
Irene Emperor Leon’s only child.
Leon Byzantine Emperor.
Zano Byzantine general who defeats the Bulgars with Drustina’s help.
Urthos The Gaul elected captain of the 4th ship. Ex Barbary galley slave.
Horus Horam the boat-builder’s son.
Sister Catherine Leader of the pirate nuns.
Guthrun Jarl of Bornholm.
Etheline Guthruns’ wife the countess of Bornholm.
Seripatese Drustinas’ mare
Capenda Taras’ mare.
Athun Gay king of Dark Age Denmark.

Drustinas’ little flotilla of five ships beat against a steady south-westerly breeze for two days before reaching the southern end of the Storebaelt. Then, as they turned north to make the first passage, they picked up speed as the wind remained firmly abaft their port quarter. Heingist was now almost permanently at Drustina’s side as his invaluable knowledge of the many channels and straits between the Dansk Archipelago became indispensible. Drustina slept little as headland followed headland to reveal yet another narrow passage or blind bay that caused confusion to any who had no knowledge of the complex island network.

At first the progress remained satisfactory as they tacked first through the wide Fermarn Baelt then turned north-west into the Langelands Baelt. Then Drustina watched the land closing in even as the summer sun lingered to the Northwest thus indicating their high latitude. She turned to Heingist with concern wrinkling her brow.

“Should we not anchor for the night?” I don’t feel comfortable with all these strange passages, especially as I see that the Baelt gets narrower to the north.”

Heingist shrugged.

“If we anchor here and now, then word will have reached the Jarl of Odense by morning and he will certainly demand a tithe to pass through the Storebaelt. He will probably demand more than the correct tariff because you are not a regular visitor and he will presume you do not know the prices. He is a greedy and avaricious beast. It is better to push further north. The Storebaelt is not a dangerous passage and the summer sun gives us a useable twilight throughout the night. It’s a navigable journey.”

“I thought we would stop anyway, for you to check on the circumstances of your family.”

“I would prefer to do that after we have passed his fortress at Nyborg. Then he cannot twist our tails by refusing to let us pass without a tithe.”

“We can afford the tithe,” Drustina replied.

“Not if that bastard Jarl lives up to his name. He is greedy for wealth and power.”

“You think he might ask a higher price.”

“He is greedy for everything, that’s why I fear for my familys’ land. He might even try to steal your mares.”

Drustina nodded sagely and called across the water to her lieutenants.

“We sail on! Pass the fortress at Nyborg by night then anchor north of the entrance to Odense harbour.”

Eric, Carl and Urthos waved acknowledgement while Sister Catherine brought her ship close alongside. It was the biggest but slowest and clumsiest of the five ships and would be the most vulnerable if they were attacked. They had pre-planned a strategy for such eventuality. The Angry Mermaid and Eric’s ship would pass out hawsers astern and ‘tow’ Catherines’ ship to give it that extra couple of knots. This would slow the Mermaid and her sister-ship, but the other ships would serve to protect. Thus convoyed, the flotilla sailed north through the Storbaelt.

Soon they approached the looming mass of the fortress at Nyborg. The Island of Fyn is fairly flat but the point on which Nyborg Fortress had been built was slightly higher than the surrounding flats and to add to the imposing bulk, earth ramparts had been heaped up before the huge wooden palisade had been built upon the ramparts. It had nothing of the rock and stone immensities that Drustina had seen and attacked during her many battles in the middle sea, but nevertheless, its earth ramparts and huge pine palisade served as a substantial deterrent to any would be attackers. Furthermore it was, in those far off days, surrounded on three sides by shallow water that prevented attacking ships from getting very close to the walls but simultaneously hampered any armed soldiers wading ashore in the waist deep waves.

In the deep twilight of that moonless night the fortress loomed dark and imposing but that darkness served to get the flotilla level with the fortress before being challenged. A signal arrow was fired from the fortress and Drustina turned expectantly to Heingist.

“Do we answer it?”

“It’s best to.” Heingist explained. “They’ll have picket ships further north and they will intercept us, especially with that fat barge you’re towing. If we don’t answer, they’ll presume we’re trying to avoid the toll.”

“If what you say is true, I’d prefer to reach more open water to the north, then anchor there so they cannot block us from departing after we’ve paid.” Drustina observed.

“It would strengthen our hand if the Jarl of Odense tries to get funny with us.” Heingist advised.

“What’s the signal then?” Drustina pressed.

“Just fire two arrows then make for the wide bay of the Samso Baelt. The picket ships will follow you until you drop anchor and negotiate the toll.”

“Negotiate!” Drustina screeched.”

“Yes. It depends on what cargo you’re carrying.”

“So what of the gold and goods that each man carries as his fortune?”

“Wear the gold. The rules say if any person carries the gold as personal adornment then it is not cargo and therefore free of charge.”

“Will this Jarl obey the rules?”

Heingist fell into a thoughtful silence. His own experiences had not been good ones. The Jarl of Odense had demanded his blood after the fight with Heingist after the fight with the jarl’s son over the family farm. Only the intervention of the old king had saved Heingist’s skin. With the new king being a fop, only interested in the pleasures of the flesh and very strange pleasures at that; there was no knowing how far the situation had deteriorated with regard to the application of the law. There had been stories coming out of Dansk that were cause for much concern. Drustina sensed Heingist’s concern and simply nodded reassurance.

“We’ll hide your portion of the gold amongst my jewellery. He won’t dare interfere with an emissary to the king.”
Drustina realised that Heingist’s fears went deeper than that. He had taken a huge risk by coming back to his homeland for it gave the jarl an excuse to arrest him and even execute him on the grounds he had broken the conditions of his banishment. If Heingist was dead, his sisters would have nobody to protect the family claim to their land. Since the jarls had almost circumvented the kings authority there was a clear probability that the kings’ writ no longer ran.

At this point, the picket ships hailed the flotilla to demand their business. The story had been well prepared for Catherine’s ship had some high value goods to be legitimately traded.

“What ships, where bound?” Came the call across the dark water.

Drustina called back identifying her ships and the picket ship directed them to anchor. The flotilla obeyed and as the sun started to peep over the north-eastern skyline of the Island of Vestjaeland they lowered their anchors. Drustina realised she was tired as where all the crews, they had been sailing all night through the narrow waters and complicated navigations. When the toll officer came aboard Drustina explained that she was tired and asked if she could sort out the tolls later in the day. The toll officer seemed a little put out but agreed after determining that the flotilla had no warlike intentions. He noted that all the men were well armed although lots had wives with them. He took his report back to Odense while Drustina and her companions took some well-earned rest. Two picket boats remained to keep an eye on the ‘visitors’.

In the afternoon two ships came out to them. One held a court official with an order that Drustina and the lieutenants plus the interpreter come ashore to explain their business. The second ship had a search crew to determine what goods were being carried and what goods were to be traded. Carl expressed his concerns about their having all their officers separated from the men and Heingist concurred. They spoke in Saxon and occasionally Latin to prevent the toll officers overhearing their conversations.

“If we are all ashore, there’s no knowing what these officials might try.” He warned Drustina.

Drustina nodded agreement and they decided to send Eric, Carl and Urthos’s lieutenants as representatives to accompany her and Heingist while Eric Carl and Urthos remained behind to protect their interests. They pretended to the senior, toll officer that Drustinas’ other lieutenants were aboard the other ships and that Eric, Carl and Urthos would have to return to their ships to enable the ‘captains’ to disembark and accompany Drustina. Drustina sketched out a plan in Saxon them turned to the toll officer.

“Once those officers have returned to their ships, the captains will return here.”

Within the hour, each of Carl, Eric and Urthos’s lieutenants from the three ships returned under the pretence of being the captains and the whole party returned to Odense in The Angry Mermaid with Sister Catherine’s ship in company as that was deemed to be the only ship carrying a full cargo of goods.

As they stepped ashore the Jarl was standing on the wharf as his mean eyes coveteously encompassed both The Mermaid and Sister Catherines’ ship. He immediately went on the attack.

“Why were you trying to slip through past the pickets?”

“We were not. We were taking advantage of what seemed like an advantageous tide.”

Drustina would not have ordinarily known how the tides ran in the Storebaelt but Heingist had explained them. Fortunately the jarl knew little of the tides, he was man versed in warfare and theft. She carried on explaining after realising the jarl had not picked up on her apparent local knowledge.

“We answered your signal arrow but we had to find a safe anchorage, the currents were too strong near the fortress.”

The Jarl at least knew that this statement at least was true. The tides did run strongly close to the fortress and this made Drustina’s story seem honest and plausible. He turned his attention to the potential pickings.

“What cargo is the fat merchantman carrying?”

Before leaving Bornholm, Drustina had loaded Catherines' ship with grain and timber and some furs. It gave the flotilla a semblance of legitimate trading whilst providing little temptation except for the furs. The jarl motioned to his picket men to uncover the canvas off the large consignment sitting amidships. His piggy eyes showed clear disappointment when he sized up the potential pickings.

“There is nothing here that warrants an escort of four warships. There must be other goods, more valuable goods.”

Drustina shrugged. Apart from the mens’ and their wives’ personal property there was truly little else and she told the jarl bluntly.

“Then search the ships. There isn’t anything else. The grain was to be used either for trading or as food if our expedition had to travel far.”

The jarl could not believe her words and he demanded that he search the vessels more thoroughly. After an hour of having men disembarking timber and grain he was forced to concede the truth. They carried little of high value except the furs. Drustina decided it was time to take the initiative.

“Where is the notice posting the tariffs for transiting the Storebaelt?”

The jarl looked up.

“There is no notice; the tariff varies with the seasons.”

“So where is the notice for the summer season? It is summer now.”

The jarl showed some discomfort. Ordinarily in King Haralds’ day there would have been a scale of charges posted outside the harbour office inside the fort but since the new king Athun had proved effete and weak, the rule of law had tended to weaken. The jarl had come to see the transit tariffs as little more than his own purse. He tried arguing further.

“It is pointless posting tariffs for every season and occasion. It’s a waste of time and paint.”

“But it proves the tariffs are publicly available for inspection, then everybody knows what’s what.” Drustina countered.

The Jarl became slightly aggressive.

“I decide the tariffs for each advancing year. My word is law.”

Drustina snorted dismissively. Whilst bedbound on Bornholm she had studied the rules for transiting the Storebaelt.

“The King in council decides the tariff. I know the law as well as any and it should be posted for public view. This was agreed many years ago before any here were born. It was always thus. If the rules have changed, show me the King’s writ.”
The Jarl smirked contemptuously.

“The king’s writ hardly runs anywhere in Danmark save his own bed.”

His remark raised a roar of sycophantic laughter from his henchmen but Drustina was not to be cowed. She stared directly into the jarl’s face with a level unflinching gaze that clearly demonstrated she was unafraid. Drustina had long learned the lessons of dealing with bullies and one of the first lessons was to keep them guessing. Uncertainty always unsettled a bully.

“You speak of the king’s bed as though you know it intimately.”

The jarl’s smirk faded to a glare as he fumed at the slur on his masculinity. Drustina recognised the danger and half turned in anticipation of some sort of violent response. He snarled at her then approached menacingly as he tried to make her afraid.

“I’ve known plenty of women’s beds intimately you arrogant bitch, and I’ll know yours if you don’t retract that remark.”

“I’ll retract nothing. I’ll pay the proper dues for our transit through the Storebaelt and be on my way to see that same king you’ve just maligned.”

The jarl’s expression changed again from threat to caution then bravado.

“The king? The king you say; and what will he do? He hardly knows how to raise his dick, let alone a sword.”

This brought another roar of amusement from his cronies but Drustina still showed no sign of backing down. She returned to the issue at hand.

“The tariff if you please, the legal tariff that is or I’ll pay you nothing.”

“And I’ll have to imprison you for failure to pay.”

“For that you’ll have to arrest me and I don’t see anybody here who seems capable of that. It’ll take a real man.”

This was too much for the Jarl and he gave another roar as he reached to draw his sword. Drustina had already anticipated his move as she finished her words. Her sword was already half drawn before the jarl had even stabilised his scabbard to pull his heavy battle sword. Even as he looked up to measure his strike, he felt the needle sharp point of Drustina’s razor-sharp, Toledo blade pricking his sword hand.

“No, I said a real man not some lumbering, greedy ox. Put your sword back or prepare to die ... like slaughtered kine.” She added for good measure.

The jarl’s face greyed, not with fear but shock at the magical speed of her sword’s appearance.

“God bitch! Where did you learn to draw a sword like that?”

“In places you would fear to tread. Now, I won’t ask again; the tariff please, the correct tariff as declared and stamped by the king’s council.”

To reinforce her words she gently pressed her sword point into the back of his hand to draw a substantial amount of blood. The jarl cursed and whipped his hand back from his sword handle. Drustina did not advance to follow his hand for that would have brought her in range of his other hand while laying her sword on the wrong side of the jarl’s chain-mailed body. Instead she deftly shifted the point sideways to rest it on the jarl’s overstuffed belly. The needle point quickly slipped between the crude single links of his chainmail tabard and he felt it gently pricking his flesh through the leather under-jerkin. This alone told him the woman held no ordinary sword and, if it was so well made and sharp enough to slice between the single links of his chain mail, then she was no ordinary woman to possess such a weapon.

His gaze followed the glistening blade from his belly to her hand and then up her arm to meet her face and eyes ... cold, grey unflinching eyes. Tha jarl knew a person could be judged through their eyes and this girl’s eyes showed no fear.

“Dammit woman! Who are you?”

“Did you not read the declaration I gave to your toll collector?”

The jarl had ignored the document delivered to his table earlier; the size of Drustina’s flotilla had excited his greed and he had hurried down to the quay to assess the pickings. Now he was beginning to regret his hastiness for the bitch’s sword was prodding harder into his sensitive navel. As he cast about for some face-saving diversion, the ‘bitch’ only exacerbated his discomfort.

“The tariff please? I won’t ask again.”

“Who are you? Damn you?”

“I am Drustina ap Caderyn ap Erin; Lioness of Carthage. You might know me better as Drustan, slayer of Blueface!”

The jarls jaw sagged as a deafening silence descended on the scene. As his cronies fell silent, they eased themselves backwards to widen the space between the ‘bitch’s’ sword, their leader and themselves. Drustina sensed the danger and she glanced sideways at what seemed to be the jarl’s immediate lieutenant. She decided that some way she had to keep the initiative. She spoke softly but with iron in her voice as she caught and held the lieutenants’ gaze.

“You! Do you know where the official tariff is kept; that is the one with the kings' seal?”

“Yes. It’s in the great hall in the chamberlain’s chest.”

“Go and get it, or this tub of lard meets its’ maker.”

She gently pressed the sword tip harder into the jarls’ belly and he jerked sensitively before nodding over his shoulder to his unseen lieutenant. The man stepped briskly towards the great hall then re-emerged quickly, waving the scroll and followed by a protesting chamberlain.”

Drustina asked Tara to read it for the two women were the only members present, besides the jarl and the chamberlain who were able to read Latin. After skimming through the preamble Tara arrived at the important bits pertaining to the cargoes they carried. Then she cursed as she interpreted the roman numerals into the faster Arabic maths.

“Bloody hell sister, they still use the old numbers!”

Drustina did not move her stare from the jarl’s face as Tara declared the tariffs and summated the charges.

“All in all sister, I make it about one hundred and five crowns. I’ve not counted our women’s personal jewellery and the men’s property. The writ makes no mention of charges against personal property. Oh, and it’s dated as valid in perpetuity until the council changes it.”

Drustina nodded and addressed the jarl.

“So Jarl, that writ does not enable you to raise your own charges nor is there any mention of ‘seasonal adjustments’.”

The jarls expression darkened but Drustina nodded with satisfaction then motioned her head to the jarl before nodding towards the harbour.

“You wanted to search our boats and you have done so. I have paid the correct tax for transiting these straits. Those taxes are supposed to pay for my protection and the protection of my ships. I cannot be certain that those picket ships that you control, will not try to attack us and our ships to steal what is rightfully ours. Your past record in this matter gives me little reassurance. To remove my doubts I will use your fat carcass to ensure my protection and my pratique. I’m taking you with me to the king. If anybody has any objections they had better make them now and back up their protest with a sword. I will pay your exchequer the one hundred and five crowns and I will collect a receipt from the chamberlain but you are my hostage until I, my people and my ships are clear and safe at the kings’ court. Come!"

Her words and sword left no room for argument but to emphasise her determination, she prodded his belly yet harder again and the jarl let out a yelp of despair as he started walking backwards towards the little harbour. By making him walk backwards, Drustina reinforced the image of the jarls’ capitulation. That image made her intentions loud and clear to the jarls’ cronies. Drustina had plans for the crooked jarl.

Within an hour they had boarded ‘The Angry Mermaid’ and reached the point of safe departure outside the harbour as Drustina’s ships filled their sails. Once clear of the jarl’s picket ships they anchored again, Drustina, Tara and the Jarl slept the night on the Mermaid while her loyal crew stood close watch. During the night, Heingist slipped ashore to check his family. He returned with unpleasant news.

“My family have been evicted from their land. My sisters work as virtual slaves for burghers in the city and my father was killed fighting to defend our family farm. Some crony of the jarl claims title to our farm while my family struggle to keep bodies and souls together.”

Drustina nodded sagely. It was little more than she had expected. When she turned to confront the jarl he smirked with conceit. She spoke softly.

“I wouldn’t feel so confident jarl. This matter needs to be resolved by the king!”

He snorted derisively.

“Pah! The king is a poodle, he thinks only of his bed and the freaks who share it with him. He cannot even get his queen with child and he’s been on the throne these past four years.”

Drustina fell into a thoughtful silence. The jarl had just given her too much information and the seeds of a plan were formulating in her brain.”

“Freaks you say. What sorts of freaks?”

“He is a pervert, a queer, a bum-boy! His bed-fellows are as sick as he is.”

The jarls’ words did not enrage Drustina. She had often heard herself called worse, though never to her face. Usually it was some remark she was not supposed to have heard or something reported to her by her more sympathetic lieutenants; lieutenants who had fought beside her and held her in huge affection and trust for her bravery, honesty and leadership. Drustina turned and smiled slightly as she spoke softly to Heingist so that the jarl could not hear.

“This is a matter for the kings’ court and the kings’ law. We shall take this matter and this jarl to face the king.”

“Will it do any good my lady,” Heingist sighed. “You heard the man; the king is a total fop and good for nothing pertaining to kingship.”

Drustina smiled.

“I have a plan Heingist. Once again I shall use my duality to advantage. My duality is my way to the kings’ bed and the kings’ favour. Fortunately the jarl hasn’t realised that and I don’t think he will. His image of the king is of some misogynistic, limp wristed fop. My gut feeling tells me the king is not a misogynist, he simply prefers men for his pleasures and I won’t condemn him for that. God knows, I had my own issues with the bigots on those scores. I’ll wager though, that he loathes his own jarls who have stolen his authority. If I can find a way to recover his authority for him, the king might see his way to favour me."

“And how will you do that mi-lady?”

“Dunno’ yet. I’m sailing without a pilot or chart in those waters.”

Heingist smiled at the metaphor. Provided he could win back his lands for his sisters and his mother he would have fulfilled his duties as a son. As for his own life, well he would like to hang onto the ‘lionesses’ tail for a few more years. She never seemed to lack for adventure and the journeyings seemed to take her everywhere. He returned to the tiller while Drustina rejoined Tara and her twins.

The following morning Drustina was awakened by one of her officers who advised that they were in the approaches to Cubenhavn. She smiled wryly, Heingist had demonstrated his initiative and confidence by bringing the flotilla safely around the islands then having the rest of the flotilla wait a couple of hours astern while he brought the Angry Mermaid to the very portals of the havn. He had only woken her when necessity and form dictated. Even as she stretched and relieved herself over the stern, a picket boat approached. Heingist called with amusement.

“They might think your expressing your opinion ma-am, you’d better hide your arse.”

Drustina grinned and ignored his remarks. The Angry Mermaid was after all a fighting ship and she led fighting men. The wives had retired to Sister Catherines bigger, more spacious and comfortable merchant vessel that was following six hours behind. Only Tara and the twins remained on the Mermaid.

Heingist spilled some wind from the sails and slowed down to allow the picket boat an approach. The toll officer studied her lines before coming alongside. He approached Heingist who then directed him to Drustina.

“Sorry ma-am. You are of course the Lioness of Carthage.”

Drustina nodded and replied.

“News travels fast hereabouts.”

“Not really ma-am. Jarl Guthrun mentioned you in his last despatch while you healed your bones on Bornholm. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Yes. A good man that Guthrun, he’s honest and fair.”

The toll officer smiled as he recognised the fat jarl of Thyne who had a reputation for greed and coercion. He read between the lines of Drustina’s remark and quickly sussed out the hidden message. To avoid any possible misunderstanding or future misfortune the officer quickly changed tack.

“His majesty King Athun will meet you immediately. Your reputation precedes you.”

Drustina smiled and motioned to Heingist to bring the Mermaid into port. The toll officer remained aboard and he chatted at length with Drustina until they were alongside. On the quay a troop of armed men met them and a very fresh faced, young officer approached. He saluted and invited Drustina to mount the horse provided.

“The king awaits you Your majesty.”

“Thank you. I’ll use my own horse thank you. My lieutenant Heingist can take that horse.”

The office was startled by Drustina’s soft call and a beautiful white horse stepped nimbly from the Mermaid onto the quay. His eyes widened further as the woman then mounted the unsaddled mare with ease and motioned for the officer to lead the way. He realised at last that the legend was true. She was obviously a consummate horsewoman and the sword scabbard sat easily at her belt. She was also a magnificent specimen of beautiful womanhood and any Viking worth his salt would have been proud to take her as his bride. Drustina caught him looking and she smiled. Then she deliberately sat fully erect and thrust out her assets. The young officer glanced away and she saw him secretively ‘adjusting’ his britches. He caught her watching and he blushed a deep scarlet. To ease his embarrassment she carried on chatting as if nothing had happened.

“Tell me of King Athun. Is he a good king?”

The officer hesitated nervously then he spoke frankly.

“He could be if the jarls had their wings clipped. He shows good sense but he lets the jarls walk all over him.”

Drustina realised the man was being honest but diplomatic. She made her own declaration.

“I am not a judgemental queen, as we are born, so we must live.”

The young officer hesitated then frowned slightly as he sensed the unspoken message. He decided to be bold.

“Is it true ma-am that you are, as they say, afflicted?”

Drustina deliberately let go a tinkling feminine laugh then spoke to re-assure the man.

“Well sir, I wouldn’t say afflicted, I would rather say I am blessed.”

The officer frowned curiously again.

“Blessed ma-am? How so.”

She decided to play the femininity card to its maximum advantage as she gently placed her hand on his wrist and lowered her eyelids provocatively. At twenty three summers she presented as a perfectly delicious maid and the officers’ eyes widened appreciatively.

“Firstly sire, I must let you know that I am at heart a woman though you will soon learn I am a queen and a warrior queen at that. Do not let this maidenly form deceive you. I can fight, cross swords and fire a war bow with the best of them. I can also fuck with the best of them as well.”

These words startled the officer. To hear such coarseness from the lips of a woman so beautiful came as a complete surprise.

He also turned at the sound of Heingists’ explosive snort of amusement. Heingist wagged his head as he explained.”

“Don’t be misled young man. Beneath that stunning exterior lies a heart of gold and a will of iron. I can assure you every man who has ever fought alongside the Lioness of Carthage would follow her from here to Hades thence to Valhalla and back ... and they would die a thousand times for her.”

It was Drustina’s turn to chuckle as she also turned to smile at Heingist. The twist of her torso parted the neck way of her leather jerkin and her delicious orbs struggles to escape while the curve of her neck exaggerated her grace. The young officers’ eyes nearly popped as Drustina addressed Heingist.

“Why that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said of me Heingist, thank you.”

Heingist drew his sword, saluted her and kissed it’s hilt as he finished.

“But you know it’s true ma-am. We all love you.”

Heingist returned his sword with equal skill and the young officer realised that his guests were battle hardened veterans.

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The Angry mermaid 51 Y Morforwyn Dicllon 51

Drustina is not one to mess with.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

more please

Pretty please