Message-ID: <60235asstr$1272633001@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-To: ckought69@hotmail.com Delivered-To: ckought69@hotmail.com X-Original-Message-ID: <n2i7b0ded011004290517pa18cd2ah97a23691d515e078@mail.gmail.com> From: Bad Fred <badfred99@gmail.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 29 Apr 2010 08:17:26 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} Donjeta and the Sea -- Chapter Three -- Encounters at Pylos (Ff, Mff, viol) Lines: 700 Date: Fri, 30 Apr 2010 09:10:01 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2010/60235> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: newsman, RuiJorge -- BadFred Read my stories: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/badfred/www/ <1st attachment, "donjeta3.txt" begin> Title: Donjeta and the Sea -- Chapter Three -- Encounters at Pylos Codes: Ff, Mff, viol Summary: We put in at Pylos for supplies, and Donjeta has many chances at love. ***** The north wind blew for days, filling our sails, sending our deep hulled ship scudding across the dark sea. I stayed aft, mostly, watching the vague horizon fall away and the dolphins play in our wake. "Princess, we'll put in at Pylos to take on water and food. It's another day's fast sailing, I reckon, if the winds keep up." "That'll be fine." Ardys the Maeonian looked at me with his bald head and great beaked nose. "You'll want to stay below, I think." "Oh? I was looking forward to feeling the sand between my toes." "I think we should avoid the Greeks -- getting a look at you." "Why? I'm a free woman under your protection. The Greeks need know nothing more than that." "Telemachus claims you as his wife. Nestor, King of Pylos, was his father's friend. The less they know of you the better." "We race ahead of any news from Ithaca, my good captain. I will step on the shore." He bowed his head. "As you wish, Princess." ***** We put in to Pylos under gray skies, interrupting a ceremony on the beach. Our crew leapt forth, beaching the ship, throwing and tying the lines, pulling us onto the sand. The crowd of townspeople eyed us curiously, but kept their distance. "Are you still determined, Princess? It isn't too late to duck down, out of sight." "Put out the plank." I ran down and felt the firm earth, the sand in my toes. I even staggered a bit, accustomed to gently rocking sea. I smiled at Ardys, still on the deck of the ship. A young girl ran toward me, maybe eight or nine, yelling and crying, from the direction of the Greeks. I stepped before her and squatted down. "My dear, what's wrong?" She ran right to me, and I caught her in my arms. A women -- I guessed her mother -- ran closely on her heels, calling out. "Lysandra! Stay away from them!" She caught up to her daughter, and me, shooting me a panicked glance. I let the girl go and gently pushed her toward her mom. "Is she OK?" I asked. She grabbed her daughter, turning her away from me. Ardys arrived and put his hand on my shoulder. "My lady, we are peaceful traders from Ephesus. We'd speak to the lord of this land, or his agent of trade." "Is the girl fine? Can I help?" The mother gave me another look and seemed to calm down. "She's just afraid of the blood." I stood and looked over at the ceremony. I saw what she meant. Men with cruel axes had just split the skull of a bull. Its blood gushed freely, flowing down channels scraped into the sand. A murmur began to rise, a gentle chant to the cruel god of the sea. Men began to stoke a large bonfire, while a separate group broke off and approached us. Their leader was tall with a hard face. "Welcome to Pylos, strangers. We'd have your names." "I am Ardys, called the Maeonian. We are peaceful traders sailing from Ephesus with goods from distant lands." Ardys didn't draw attention to me, but it did no good. "And her? She's no ordinary girl to have aboard a ship, dressed in hides and furs. Who are you girl?" "I'm Donjeta, and now that you know us, who are you? This is the land of King Nestor. Are you one of his famous sons?" I had no idea who Nestor's sons were, but it seemed wise to flatter this man. He responded. "Indeed, I am King Nestor's son, Thrasymedes." Ardys spoke. "Ah Thrasymedes, I've heard your name. You fought on the fields of Troy, an honor to your father and brother both. Your courage is praised, even in distant Ephesus, even though we were allies of Troy. A man as great as you is beloved in any land." Ardys was good at this. Thrasymedes looked pleased. He spoke. "Come then, and be called friends and guests. Join our ceremony. Your being sailors makes this particularly meet. Burn the flesh and pour the wine -- to gain, if not the favor, at least the mercy of the great god Poseidon, master of the uncertain sea!" Ardys nodded, then he scurried up to the Thrasymedes. "My Prince, the girl is the squeamish sort. I'd rather she stay with the ship." "Nonsense Ardys the Maeonian. If King Nestor discovered I'd let one so beautiful hide away, he'd have my hide. Bring her. Honor us. She shall be our guest." And so it was. ***** When we approached, the thigh bones and offal had been cast on the flames, and thick smoke greeted us, strong with the stench of burning flesh. Logs for sitting had been laid in a wide circle around the fire, two rows deep. The townspeople gathered and sat. Thrasymedes took his place, beckoning to us from the front row near the flames. We sat next to him. "So Donjeta, where are you from?" "Thrace." It was a vague answer, and not entirely true. "Ah -- I fear I killed many a Thracian before the walls of Troy. I hope you lost no father or brothers." He peered at me intently, waiting. "My father and brothers returned safe from the war." "Ah! I'm glad." He stepped forward and splashed a bit of wine on the fire. It sizzled and steamed. "Let's make libations for the valiant dead and to those who live on bearing their memory." Ardys joined the others, leaning forward to pour out some wine. I did also. "So, Donjeta, who is your father? From your beauty I'd guess he was no common man. Are you the daughter of a king or chief?" I couldn't possibly name a Thracian who'd fought at Troy. Ardys began to mumble something, some clever lie. I interrupted him. "I'm not Thracian, and I have neither father nor brother who fought at Troy." "Oh? Then who are you girl? We don't take well to lies. Speak!" Still sitting, gazing into the fire, I spoke. "Forgive the lie. I will tell you who I am. There is no shame in it, no shame at all. My aunt fought at Troy. Penthesilia, cut down by Achilles, I'm of her blood. I'm Donjeta, daughter of Queen Antiope, a child of the steppe, a horsewoman, a warrior maiden who worships bloody death -- a princess of the Amazons." Everyone got quiet, 'specially Thrasymedes. He got that look in his eye. ***** They let me take a bath before meeting the king. When I entered the bathing chamber, a young beauty awaited. She had soft brown eyes. "Hi. What's your name?" "I'm Polycaste, the king's daughter." "Oh? They sent a princess to bathe me?" "As befits your rank, ma'am." "Ah. Then call me Donjeta -- not ma'am. I'm pleased to meet you Polycaste." She lowered her head. I went on. "But see, Polycaste, I'm a horsewoman of the steppe. I ride on the wind and sleep beneath the open sky. I don't need help bathing." "Oh." Her eyes dropped. She backed away, as if to leave. I didn't want her to leave. "Don't leave Polycaste. In fact, why don't you join me?" She paused. Her eyes got big. "Would you like that, sweet Polycaste?" I took her hand, leading her to the basin. "Yes ma'am -- I mean, yes Donjeta." I helped her remove her tunic. Then, so tentatively, she helped me remove mine. We slipped into the warm water, leaning against the side, scooting next to each other, touching and smiling. Then the kissing began. ***** We met the king in his great hall; with its central fire, burning hot and bright; with its splendid frescoes, showing the undying gods -- their beauty close to real. My heart fluttered at the image of Pallas. She seemed to gaze at me, armored, with her thunderbolt and horrid shield. Thick columns held up wooden beams. A raised platform held a heavy chair. On it sat the king, old and stooped, clinging to his last wisps of strength. "Welcome Donjeta, daughter of Antiope. Welcome to my home. Please feel welcome to my wine and weal. Sit. Eat. Draw comfort from the fire. Gaze upon the beauty of the hall. Meet my family. Take delight in them, as we will in you..." He went on like that for a while, his voice lilting and soft. I shifted, trying to stay awake. Polycaste entered, shooting me a shy glance. She went to the king and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Father, can Donjeta and I have some wine and talk?" "Yes, Polycaste. Donjeta, have you met Polycaste? Is she not a vision?" "She is indeed, wise King Nestor." Polycaste came to me and stood with me. She took my hand and leaned to me. The king gazed at us with an idle smile. We found chairs, near to the king's, and sat. We each took a cup of wine. Ardys entered with Thrasymedes. The king welcomed the captain with his somnolent voice. He spoke at length. I turned to Polycaste, tuning out his drone. She spoke. "You met my brother on the beach?" "Yes." As if on cue, Thrasymedes drifted away from Ardys, leaving him to bear the full weight of Nestor's oration. He approached us. "Polycaste, my sister. Donjeta." He bent his head, his eyes fixed on me. "Thrasymedes." "I trust you enjoyed your bath." "Yes, very much." Polycaste smiled, blushing. She still held my hand. "May I join you?" He didn't wait. He took the seat next to mine and grabbed a cup of wine. "Let's drink to your beauty, Donjeta, and your future happiness." He raised his cup. It seemed odd to drink to my own beauty, but he was waiting, so I lifted mine. Polycaste held hers high, her face beaming. "So Donjeta, how is it you ended up on an Ephesian ship?" Even weighed down by age, even jabbering on, King Nestor's old ears heard. "Thrasymedes, belay that! We do not question our guests. Now is the time for comfort and song. Let them eat their fill and drink our heady wine. Let sweet sleep come to them. Then tomorrow, we'll talk of serious things." I smiled, glad I didn't need to explain myself -- yet. A runner entered, breathing hard, grasping his side from a cramp. "King Nestor! Ships sighted, three, long and black, crewed by strong men, bristling with spears! They row hard and will reach the shore before I can return, even running full tilt." Thrasymedes shot from his seat, his cup of wine cast aside and clattering across the floor. "With me men! To arms! Sentry, raise the alarm! I want two-hundred armed men to the shore right away!" A shadow crossed the king's face, and he slumped down. His son strutted to the wall behind his chair and pulled down a sword and spear. He turned. "Father, I will meet these men and learn their names, and what they mean coming in arms to sandy Pylos." Then he strutted to the door flourishing his weapons. I stood, calling out. "Thrasymedes, I will come with you! Give me a spear!" ***** When we arrived at the beach, they had grounded their ships, pulling up and tying fast. One-hundred-and-fifty men, tall and bearing spears, stood alert. The vanguard of the Pylians stood against them, twenty-five at most. I heard the gate of the town close behind us. Thrasymedes and his two strongest strutted forth. I followed beside them. The leader of the invaders came out with his own small band, as if to parley. It was Telemachus. Of course it was Telemachus. Thrasymedes spoke. "Welcome friends to sandy Pylos. What brings you here in force of arms? Do you seek the aid of wise King Nestor, and his good council? Would you set your weapons aside and join me, grasping hands in peace?" "Friends? Peace? Such honeyed words, do they come from a forked tongue? For -- friend -- I seek my wife, stolen from me. I've sailed hard on her heels for five days, praying to steady Poseidon at every turn for just the mere sight of her sail on the vague horizon." He took a breath. Thrasymedes stood tense. "So -- friend -- I put in to great Pylos, home of Nestor, bosom friend of my father lost. I beach my ships seeking water, and news -- maybe whispered on the wind by Zeus -- of my lost wife. And what do I find? The ship. The very ship that stole her. And what else? Her! Standing there, armed and insolent, at your right hand!" "Hi Telemachus." "Donjeta!" ***** Telemachus agreed to set aside his spear and appear before the king. We stood there, he and I, shoulder to shoulder with the blazing hearth to our backs. Thrasymedes stood at Nestor's side, the king in his heavy chair. Ardys, Polycaste, and the remainder of the house watched from the wings. "Nestor! You were ever my father's friend, cunning Odysseus. When that craven Paris spirited Helen away from her rightful husband, all of Greece marched to war -- you and my father too. Nestor! This is the same! Donjeta is my wife, and this foreign captain has stolen her from me." I responded. "Stupid Telemachus! I went of my own free will. This captain has rendered me service -- true -- but he didn't steal me. I fled from you." "You went willingly?" the king asked. "And eagerly. I fled rocky Ithaca and a fate worse than death." "King Nestor! She is befuddled. No doubt this captain is a sorcerer, a wizard sputtering dark spells! Give her to me. I shall return her to hearth and home, and under the gentle care of my mother and her nurse, we will return dear Donjeta to her right mind." "I'm not befuddled. My mind is quite clear." "Idiocy! What women dares to dress like that and carry a spear?" There was a murmur. Thrasymedes spoke. "Telemachus, do you deny her lineage? Do you deny she is a child of Antiope? An Amazon princess?" "I don't deny it." "Then that explains her strange clothes and spear. And more, it explains why she fled from you?" There was silence. "No! Don't be offended good Telemachus. No one doubts your courage, but you're untested. You've never fought in war. I pity you -- in a way -- born years too late, too young for the great campaign where so many men were proved. You speak of Helen and Troy. I left my brother on that field, Nestor's beloved son, cut down by Memnon on that bloody day. No Telemachus -- I'm sorry for you -- but no man like you could win the heart of an Amazon." Telemachus seethed. "Give me a spear! A sword! I renounce my rights as guest. I will have this man's life!" It would prove an easy solution to my problem. I had no doubt of the outcome were these two to fight, but King Nestor raised his gentle hand. "Please be calm, Telemachus, for the sake of your father's good name. If you must fight Thrasymedes, it will happen empty-handed in a sandy pit, wrestling to the first pin. I will not lose another son to this sort of quarrel, nor will I let the only son of Odysseus die in my house." The king turned to me. "Donjeta, is there no way you will return with Telemachus? Were you indeed his wife?" "He claimed me as wife, after he raped me." There was a moment of silence, sort of hanging there for a bit. "Accursed woman! Vile deceitful woman!" He reached to grab me, to strike me. I stepped aside and threw him to the ground hard. He tried to pop back up, but only staggered, careening into a table and sending a pitcher of water into the fire. There was a crackle and a gush of steam. Thrasymedes laughed. The king shouted, his voice becoming loud. "Telemachus! Donjeta! Peace will reign in my hall. Men, separate them!" Two strong guards came from either side, one to Telemachus, now on his knees, grabbing him and pulling him to his feet, but keeping a strong grasp. The other approached me. I shot him a warning glance and reached for my knife. "Good king, I am your guest and have loved your hospitality. I adore your family, and you, but if this man lays a hand on me, I will leave this hall a lake of bloody death!" The man didn't lay a hand on me. "Donjeta! Be calm girl!" Thrasymedes strutted over between the guard and me. "Be calm. I swear no harm will come to you in this house, not while blood flows in my veins. And this Telemachus, we will give him gifts and send him on his way to chew on his disappointment however he will, but you are free -- beautiful and free -- Donjeta." He paused. Telemachus started to shout something, but Thrasymedes shot his man a look, and the prince's mouth was covered. He only let out a gurgling sound. "Take him from the hall. Send word to his ships, that he is here secured. Two of them, with their full crew, must sail out immediately, past the breakers, and wait there. Then we will free the prince, to sail away on the third. Go with our blessing, Telemachus, and do not return." And so it was. The prince was dragged from the hall. "And now Donjeta -- beautiful Donjeta -- as a free girl, where do you sail to? What do you plan to do?" "I sail home, Thrasymedes, to the endless sky, the open steppe." "Ah yes, I know the longing for home. I felt it, those ten long years at Troy. But Donjeta, you have another choice." That was obvious. "Stay here, girl, with me. Be mine, my wife." "That cannot be, Thrasymedes. I'm sorry." "What will it take, Donjeta? You're young. Your spirit is strong. Do you crave war? Power? I'd make yours the wealth of Greece. Pylos is strong, but that our armies stand down. Let's raise them again, sharpen spears in bloody conquest! Donjeta, let's fight, shoulder to shoulder, until the world bows to us." Polycaste came over, standing near me, taking my hand. She leaned into me, and I to her. "Donjeta please. We'd be sisters." "Yes, my dear sister would be yours, so loving and kind. I would be yours, strong, with armies at my back. So, Donjeta, what do you most desire?" "Beauty." He got a curious look. I thought it best not to mention Pallas Athena by name. "Thrasymedes, you are noble and strong, and dear Polycaste, you are precious to me, but there is another, my true love. Beautiful -- so beautiful, even your gods would admit. She waits for me under the endless sky, and I go to her." Thrasymedes peered at me. Moments passed, and I saw a softening around his eyes -- acceptance. He was a good man, indeed, this Pylian prince. His sister started to cry. I held her and whispered sweet things. ***** I gave them that evening, the three of us, together in a room lit by starlight and the barest shiver of a crescent moon. Thrasymedes took me first, grabbing me and tossing me on the bed. He used his strength. He was hard on me, but I could take it. He held me down, but didn't go further. "Polycaste, my dear sister, take off her clothes." He loosed me, just a bit, enough so Polycaste could remove my horsehide tunic. She pulled it off slowly and kissed my cheek. She stayed close to me. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked. "Now, the leggings too." He shifted his hips. She removed them, giving my thighs sweet kisses. He sat up and tore away his loose tunic, and in the moonlight I saw he was ready, but he didn't proceed. He just sat there watching me. I shifted my hips and spread. "Please hurry." He came forward and drove into me, not fast, but steady and hard. I clutched him, pulling him close, feeling the slow rhythm and the heat of his flesh. I thought of the churning sea, and of ships pitching on the waves. I thought of the moonlight reflected on the water, and what lies beneath. He grunted three times. I felt him pulse inside me, then the warm flow. He rolled over gasping and twitching. He was so much better than Telemachus. I gazed at the shadowy ceiling and smiled. Polycaste kissed my mouth. She climbed on top me, embracing me. She gave me more kisses, and sweet words. I lay still. I touched her. "Please sweet Polycaste. Please." She went down and ate, nuzzling in, moaning. She learned quickly how to love, little Polycaste with her soft brown eyes. A deep hunger drove her, I think. She sucked hard, tasting me -- and her brother. ***** We left sandy Pylos at the break of dawn, our crew pushing the ship back into the sea, rowing hard to break free of the surf. I stood astern, watching the long curved beach drift away, and the two of them standing still. They raised their arms in farewell. "The prince lays in wait for us, Donjeta. I'm sure of it." "I expect so, good Captain." The men pulled hard on their oars, and we drifted past the mouth of the harbor to the open sea. "Can we outrun them in this ship?" "Perhaps, if we have enough of a lead and we start downwind. This ship presents a bigger sail. A strong wind will shoot us away from them. But they have more oars. If caught upwind, or becalmed, we're done for." So naturally, when the Ithacans came, they were downwind, and there wasn't much wind anyhow. Three oar-swept hulls came over the vague horizon, rowing fast. I stood next to Ardys and watched them come. "There's a storm coming, Princess." It was the plain truth. Rushing from behind their ships was a black, horrid storm. ***** (To be continued ...) ***** Tell me what you think: (badfred99@gmail.com) Read my other stories: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/badfred/www <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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