CHAPTER 1

BOY WARRIOR

 

They lay siege to Alencon in the Normandy province for thirty days and thirty nights.  The smell of rotting flesh filled the air; the fires behind the walls of the city burned as many of the dead as it could, but they couldn't keep up.  If it weren't the army at their gates that would kill them, it was the hunger and disease.  It was almost over, but the last of the soldiers refused to surrender.

Outside the city, the army of Prince Rulf camped out.  Over fifteen thousand men spread out over the rolling hills, their fires burned brightly at night; their arrows flew with accuracy during the day.  Alencon was the last stronghold to take, and then, they could go home to England, victorious in their campaign to rid the world of the Norman Empire that had ruled England so unmercifully.  The Normans were banished from England, but Walter, King of England, had sent his only boy to lead his armies to smash the homeland of the Normans forever.  Prince Rulf had been at it for over a year and yearned to go home to a quiet life and find a wife to give him an heir.

Rulf sat around the table in the tent, surrounded by his generals as they planned the final attack.  "I'm sick of being called the Boy Warrior!  Take the city and my name will go down in history."

"Aye, Aye," the generals shouted out.  They had been with Prince Rulf since the beginning, laying allegiance to him from the outset of the invasion of Normandy.  They had taken over two dozen towns.  Once each town was taken, the men took their rewards from the people, taking anything of valuable, the women just another prize.  The Norman province would be home to a lot of English bastards in the year to come.

"We will storm the walls just before the sun rises in the East.  I want every soldier out there.  The last thing they will see is an English soldier shoving his blade through their bellies and gutting them like pigs.  Don't return until the city runs red in blood!"  Rulf knew that victory was his in the morning.  Tomorrow night, they would celebrate; the next day, the city would burn.

"Long live Prince Rulf, long live King Walter.  Victory, victory," the generals chanted.  There was no denying Prince Rulf his dues, not if you wanted to live.  Any man would lay down his life for him, and tomorrow, many would.

* * * *

As the darkness gave way to the light of day, an eerie quiet fell, and then, all hell broke loose.  One thousand archers made the sky grow dark once again as their arrows blanketed the sky.  They sent ten volleys of arrows into the castle walls, and then, the infantry advanced on the gates, heavy wagons loaded with pointed logs charged the gates.  The gates only held for minutes, and as the gates splintered into hundreds of pieces, the armored soldiers broke inside the walls.  It was a brief skirmish for the overwhelming odds of Prince Rulf's men before the last of the defenders were crushed; the cobblestone streets ran red with their blood.  With little resistance, Rulf's army filled the streets of Alencon, killing all they could find – men, woman, even children were massacred.

The sounds of his men yelling out their triumph greeted Prince Rulf's arrival as he rode majestically on his white horse into the gated city, his boyhood friend Zane alongside him.  The screams of women rose up higher as he neared the castle steps, home to the Baron Louis of Alencon and his queen, Lady Colette.  His men had started taking all the treasures of the city, and the women were taken for the soldier's pleasure.  The celebration would go on for a day; Prince Rulf would have his generals and leaders celebration inside the castle where the baron once held reign.

"Find me Baron Louis.  Ten gold pieces to the man that brings him to me, dead or alive."  The word spread quickly, Rulf would soon have one of his prizes.  He bent over the low doorway as he rode his horse into the giant chambers, the marble floors covered with dead soldiers that defended the royal family that lived there.  He finally dismounted as he approached the throne that had been the baron's.

"Clean up these bodies and find me some wine.  It is time to celebrate."  It took only minutes before Rulf had wine in his hand, drinking out of a golden chalice.  He walked up to the throne. "Sit with me, Zane.  I doubt Lady Colette will mind that you take her throne."

Though Zane was not of royal linage, he held a special place with Prince Rulf.  They had grown up together and shared many adventures.  King Walter entrusted his son's life with Zane, and Zane would do anything to protect him, even giving up his own life.  Life was good with Prince Rulf; women plentiful and available, food and drink overflowing.  Life in the last year had been harsh with the war, but there were rewards.  They would soon set sail to go home triumphant.  He gazed out over the large hall, filled with statues; the French loved half-naked women and so did he.  The floors were tiled in marble, a large fountain in the center of the room.  The soldiers pulled down the baron's pennants, and King Walter's flags flew in their place.  It was beginning to look more like a celebration hall than a death chamber.

The soldiers had stripped the French girls for the prince's enjoyment, naked to the waist; bare-breasted French girls began to bring out food and more ale.  Zane's cock grew hard as he saw the young, nubile girls with firm breasts and big nipples strut in front of him.  They spoke in gibberish, Zane never learned French, but the soldiers easily translated with pain, the pricks of a sword into their cute ass made them move and squeal.