His curiosity satisfied, Vulkan gathered her up in the coverlet, rolling her over and over until she fell off the edge of the bed with a crash. Quickly now, because speed was of the essence he wound the lashings he had brought with him around her swaddled form until she was completely immobilised.
Suddenly, there was an urgent knocking at the door accompanied by the anxious tones of one of the maids calling through the thick timbers. Vulkan threw open the picture windows and tied the rope he had brought to a pillar and carefully lowered it over the balustrade. Like a shadow, he rappelled down to the next balcony where he dropped on top of the unsuspecting guard stationed there.
The trooper was instantly poleaxed by Vulkan's huge weight hitting him. The prince took the nomad dagger he had filched from the trophy hall and slipped it between the unconscious guard's fourth and fifth ribs, directly into his heart. He tied a second rope to the balustrade in the same fashion and flung it over the edge where it dangled to the tops of the rhododendrons below.
Then he pulled himself back up the rope and stepped back into the queen's bedroom just as the first mighty impact of a battleaxe slammed into the door. On the floor, Amariza had regained her wind and was now screaming at the top of her voice for the guards, her shouts sounding muffled and breathless through the thickly padded rolls of counterpoint.
Vulkan picked up the hugely struggling bundle. Behind him, the heavy door vibrated under multiple impacts, the wood around the lock flying in all directions as the men on the other side gave it everything they had. The old iron lock finally gave way with a massive 'crack' and the door flew inwards, quickly followed by the soldiers, their axes raised above their heads, but the room was empty.
The king stood with the seneschal on the lower balcony, at their feet, the still cooling body of the guard whom Vulkan had dispatched only ten short minutes beforehand.
The king turned the small dagger over in his fingers. His tone was final, marking the end of the brief discussion, "it's definitely nomad workmanship, I recognise the design, and here, these runes on the top of the hilt."
The seneschal nodded despondently, he had recognised the workmanship as soon as he had pulled the blade out of the body.
"They must have come over the outer wall at some point; through the gardens to just below this balcony, scaled the masonry up to here and killed the guard," the seneschal craned his neck to look up the twenty or so feet to the queen's private balcony, "quite a climb, even for a mountain man."
"But why the ropes?" asked the king.
"Majesty, it's one thing for a man to scale a sheer wall, even one as eroded as this, but a damn sight harder to come back down with a hundred pound woman over his shoulder."
"How many in the raiding party do you figure?" asked the king, looking up at the sheer wall dubiously.
The seneschal shrugged, "one for the guard, one to carry the queen, perhaps another for unseen eventualities – it's hard to be sure sire."
The king made his mind up, "turn out every man you've got who can ride a horse, I want a hundred knights and ten times as many troopers scouring the countryside as soon as they can saddle-up. If we don't find them both by tomorrow morning, I'll march the entire army all the way to the mountains to get them back!"
When Vulkan unrolled the coverlet and spilled the queen out on to the hard flagstones, the dungeon master gaped in surprise.
"Holy shit! It's the queen… Leopold will go nuts when he finds out about this."
"He already knows," snapped the prince, " I made sure of that."
Gargo's face paled. "He'll tear the queen's tower down bit-by-bit until he comes across the adit, they'll find us eventually."
Vulkan grinned, his expression vulpine, "I don't think so, right about now I expect old Leo will be sending out all the available men he's got to pull up every bush and trash every hovel within twenty leagues."
And when Gargo continued to look dubious, "I left a calling card – a nomad dagger in one of the guards – they won't even be looking for her inside the keep and besides, I've sent the king a little present that will soon blunt his curiosity."
Naturally enough, as soon as Countess Jessica heard about the abduction of the queen, she hurried to be of service to the king as he sat in conclave with the seneschal and those few lords deemed too old to be thrashing around the countryside in the middle of the night.
Jessica shooed away the king's pages and saw to it personally that his majesty and his noble lords were well sustained throughout the night with food and wine. Misogynist's to a man, barely a one acknowledged the countess' presence in the room as they discussed the grave business and so it proved child's play for Jessica to slip the potion Vulkan had given her earlier in the evening into the wine she carried to the table.
By the time dawn came up, all of the men found themselves unknowingly afflicted with a creeping dementia that conspired to rob them of their memories and ability to reason. Even to the point where they failed to notice the rambling gibberish, they had all begun to spout at one another.
It was a very well satisfied countess who returned to her chambers in the small hours, to change into her harness and make the journey down into the bowels of the keep where her master awaited.
Queen Amariza picked herself up off the floor and stood shaking in front of the satyresque prince. With disbelieving eyes she looked around the large, torch-lit chamber; wincing at the hellish machines she had thought never to see again, gasping in horror as she made out the dangling, sweating figure of the semi-delirious Lilliphane, gagging with a mixture of embarrassment and revulsion as she beheld the massive cock pointing up at her face like a pike-staff, the head shiny and dripping with pre-cum.
"What kind of fiend are you?" she asked in a whisper.
Vulkan advanced upon her, tearing down the front of her satin nightgown with one sweep of his massive arm, exposing her succulent breasts with their fear hardened, fuchsia-pink nipples. He laughed delightedly as Amariza tried to huddle her arms over her bosom and cover her golden haired sex with her hand.
"The worst kind," scoffed the prince savagely, "the kind created and sent by the Lord High Wizard Malpurgo, whom you no doubt remember as having served you well and whom you wronged most grievously in return."
Amariza blanched as he spoke.
"That sick-minded old fool demanded the hand of our beloved daughter, then only fourteen years old," she spat out, struggling to regain some semblance of her normal icy control.
Vulkan shrugged.
"Nevertheless, my master Malpurgo has charged me with returning your favours ten-fold."
Vulkan's hand shot out, striking Amariza in the diaphragm with his straightened fingers. He grinned as the breath whooshed out of her mouth and she collapsed heavily to her knees. Vulkan resisted the almost overpowering urge to ram his cock down her throat, as she hung there gasping in front of him, but her spirit was not yet broken and he knew she would very likely bite.
Gargo came up behind the queen with an iron collar that he snapped shut around her slender neck and then, bending her arms behind her back, he buckled on a pair of wrist cuffs. These he connected via a short length of chain to a ring in the back of the collar. Amariza was now effectively immobilised; forced to arch backward in an effort to keep the load off her arms and throat.
Vulkan turned to the dungeon master, "start up the forge and get out the branding irons."
Amariza looked up from her knees, her beautiful blue eyes two bleary pools of pain as she struggled to make sense of Vulkan's words.
"I'll see you impaled for this, sirrah!" she hissed, "my husband will drag you behind his horse to the executioner's block by your ears."
Vulkan sneered down at her, "by now your husband is will be drooling like a baby. I very much doubt he can even say the word, 'horse' anymore, let alone ride one."
Vulkan grabbed a thick hank of blonde hair and yanked her head back as far as it would go. Then he took hold of his massive cock in his other fist and offered the glistening, cum-slicked glans to her face, wiping the dripping juice across her cheeks and screwing the bloated meat into her nostrils so that she could appreciate the full smell of him.
Amariza struggled in vane to twist her head away from the vile organ. Unlike her sister-in-law, she had never been fond of sex. After the birth of Flamia, she had actively discouraged the king's visits to her bedchamber and he had rarely bothered her since. Now she was forced to contemplate being raped by what could only described as a nightmare of a cock as Vulkan pushed her face down on to the floor and sank down behind her, his knees pushing between hers as he spread her shaking thighs wide.
Amariza gritted her teeth as she felt his phallus nudge up to her sex, shrugging the exquisitely layered labia easily aside as he pushed forward to locate the first part of the big cock-head in her arid vulva. The prince placed his large palm into the small of her back and pushed down, grinding her soft breasts into the stone to elevate her buttocks and then he rammed himself forward with a loud grunt.
Amariza screamed in agony, as her vagina was rent fully halfway up its length by the stone-hard column of gristle. Vulkan thrust forward again and again until he felt himself fully bottomed within the queen's narrow channel. The quaking noblewoman sucked in a ragged breath as the prince paused to enjoy the incredibly tight, sucking grip her shocked muscles had on his shaft. Then he began to fuck her slowly, feeling her innards rippling and spasming as his great, veined rod slid in and out, building up his speed until her body was lurching back and forth in unison with his and her breath coming in sharp, hacking huffs as he reamed her unused sex.
Such was the state of his excitement that Vulkan ejaculated after only a dozen thrusts, his bulging testes disgorging a huge, scalding stream of zest into her brutalised chasm. Amariza groaned in revulsion as she felt his seed gush in to further violate her body, but her protests soon turned to sighs of relief as the lubricating spunk eased the fiery passage of his cock as it reamed her otherwise bone-dry gulch.
Vulkan withdrew, leaving Amariza's sex gaping slack-mouthed and choked with his thick, dripping curd. The woman lay still, her belly panting. A fine patina of sweat had sprung out to cover her body as she fought to stop herself from shaking. She pressed her forehead to the cool stone, the wide, blue eyes pain-filled and staring into nothingness.
However, her respite was only momentary as Vulkan took his still solid shaft and laid it into the crack of her arse.
"This particular pleasure I will enjoy almost as much as fucking little Flamia," her told her cruelly, barking out with laughter as the outraged queen reared up in outrage at his threat to rape her daughter.
"Spawn of Satan, I hope you rot in Hellarghhhhhhhhh!…" Amariza's curse rose to become an ululating shriek of agony as Vulkan rammed himself into her rectum. The persimmon-sized glans ruptured the delicate girdle of muscle in an excruciating explosion of pain and then he was surging smoothly into her bowels. Such was the level of her pain that Amariza could only squat on her knees shaking from head-to-foot like a jelly, her beautiful red lips peeled back from the perfect white teeth to expose her gums as she bellowed forth endlessly.
Vulkan bellowed too, but his cry was one of pure ecstasy as he slammed himself in and out of the queen's deliciously smooth back passage. His hard hips began to smack into her luxurious arse-cheeks, sending great shockwaves through the slender blonde frame; making her breasts dance and cavort madly as her whole body was rocked by his onslaught.
Amariza's self-control finally cracked and she began to sob uncontrollably as the exultant satyr continued to rape her arse until the blood from her torn sphincter trickled down the insides of her thighs to her knees.