Stories to check out

[Victoria]

A story by Sam. Sam's original post below.

While things are quiet here because so many are attending the Con...I decided to write the story of The Lesbian Counter Encounter for those left behind.

Click the attachment to download or open and read it now.

[Lt.Mac]

For those wo have read my first book Beyond the Legend and loved it there is a sequel coming tpwards the end of the year - I'm about half way done with writing then the production process begins- Headache!!!!
Here's an excerpt- more later-maybe:rolleyes:

The Lady of Rose Cottage

Upon reaching the cliffs on the shores of the firth the young knight saw that there were no ships waiting. He strained to see, through the flurry filled twilight sky, farther out for any sign of their small fleet. Surveying the area he noticed three bodies lying on the snow covered beach below them. John dismounted and climbed down the rocky, ice covered path to the shore followed closely by the others.
The first body was that of one of the ship captains. John knew his face well because he had spoken with him extensively during the short voyage from France. The dagger that had killed him was still in his side. He had three small sons and wife waiting for his return John remembered him saying one night as they stared up at the stars. “I will see that your family is cared for my friend.” He whispered as he pulled the dagger from the dead man’s ribs.
One of the knights ran to the second body. “This one is dead as well, my lord.” He called out.
The second knight and the scout rushed to the body that lay farther off down the beach. “My lord,” The scout called loudly. “This one still breathes.” The two men carefully lifted the sailor and moved him out of the water. John came running up.
“He is badly wounded, Sir John, and lives but not for long.” The Frenchman examined the gash across the man’s belly.
“Get me some fresh water.” John told the scout, who struggled back up to the horses to fetch the leather flagon. When the scout returned with the water John poured some over the unconscious man’s face. He vomited up sea water and took in a deep breath. “Can you speak?” John asked him helping the man to drink.
“Yes.” The man swallowed then answered faintly.
“What happened here?” One of the knights asked.
“Saxons.” The man choked out.
“Saxons? Where are the ships?” John inquired but the man had begun to slip back into unconsciousness. He grasped the dying man’s shoulders and shook him vigorously. “Where are our ships?” He demanded again.
The sailor opened his eyes. “Sunk, my lord, everyone is dead. But,” He coughed and began the shiver in the bitter cold. “They sent a large army of warriors ashore.” The man passed out again. The four soldiers gave each other a look of shared terror.
“How long ago? How many men?” John’s tone became desperate as the sailor once more did not respond. “How long?” He shook him again.
The man, never opening his eyes, answered soulfully with his last breath. “Dawn. Ten ships.”
“My lord,” One of the French knights murmured regretfully. “Each Saxon ship is capable of carrying at least one hundred and twenty-five men, if they do not bring horses.”
“Lord have mercy on us, that’s over a thousand.” John sprang to his feet. “You stay here,” He said to the scout, “And give them all a proper burial.” The scout nodded. “We have to go back, now!” He roared to the knights and ran back across the sand. “They’ve had a full day’s start ahead of us. The men were not expecting an attack.”
“We saw no sign of them all day, my lord. Surely with the snow we would have seen tracks or heard something.” The younger of the two knights, Sir Rene D’Arques said as they climbed back up the frozen path to the top of the cliffs.
“If by some chance they missed us, which I doubt, they will surely find Eric and the indefensible castle. But my guess is that they managed to get information from the ships men and went around us, in order to come up from our rear and trap us between them and the sea.”
John and the knights rode hard and fast. When they came upon the spot where they left the weary army a full assault was underway. John sent one knight to get a message to Eric so he could prepare for a battle.
John fought his way through the bedlam of warriors, fallen men and horses and blood stained snow until he came upon one of his own officers. “Capitaine!” the older man called out as he fended off an enemy raider. “We thought you may have been killed.”
John swung hard at the Saxon who had come upon him, “No, but the ships are gone.” He cried out as he jabbed his sword into his attacker’s gullet. “We are trapped like rats.”
The battle continued for nearly two hours before John found himself unhorsed by a large man with a scar that ran down the center of his face from forehead to chin. He seemed familiar but John could not place him.
“I order you to surrender in the name of King Constantine of England.” John called out to him though he knew his words would only serve to assure is own death.
“Never!” The Saxon growled, “You will yield to me and so will your king!” He came at John with his huge sword high above his head. John threw himself sideways to avoid the massive blade. He hit the ground landing on top of two dead foot soldiers.
Sir Rene, having just disposed of the man he was battling called out as he saw John fall. “Capitaine!” The young Frenchman yelled and with the speed of an angel his blade came in contact with the Saxon’s.
“Capitaine?” The Saxon sneered as he backed Rene against a tree. His huge sword sliced open Rene’s arm from his shoulder to his elbow causing him to drop his weapon. “Marie sainte prient pour moi!” Rene prepared himself to die.
John struck the massive warrior across his back. “Your fight is with me, leave him!” The Saxon turned away allowing Rene to collapse to the ground, wounded but alive.
“You command this feeble army?” The Saxon snarled as he and John circled around a heap of bodies lying on the frozen ground between them.
“I am Sir John of Malmesbury and yes, I command this army?” John held his sword in one hand and his dagger in the other.
“You are nothing but a boy.” The great Saxon laughed.
“That’s your opinion!” John charged at him. The Saxon brought his blade down to meet John’s. Sparks glowed bright from the strike of metal upon metal. John sunk his dagger into the Saxon’s lower chest, where it stayed, but the raider seemed oblivious to its presence. They met each other blow for blow for several minutes, until John slipped on a patch of ice created by a frozen pool of blood and his feet came out from under him. He landed flat on his back with the Saxon’s sword pointed directly at his heart and his own just out of his reach.
“You fight well for a boy.” The Saxon smiled and prepared to bury his sword into John’s chest. “You English are brave, I’ll give that.”
The Saxon raised the sword slightly to put his weight behind it, the young knight rolled sideways towards his sword. With his weapon in hand once more he swiftly spun around on his knees and struck the man across his lower legs, sending him face down onto the blood soaked earth. Instantly John swung his sword again and beheaded the massive warrior then retrieved his dagger from the Saxon’s body.