Lost in the Woods

I stumbled through the fog that covered everything. I stopped and listened. Nothing. I had lost my pursuers. I felt relief, but I was also alone and lost. I was 20 years old. My family had been killed. My heritage was gone. Now I had lost even my horse to those thieves. I pulled what was left of my torn dress over my exposed breast and sank down onto the damp leaves to catch my breath and think.

I am a good fighter, even if I am a woman. My father and my brothers had trained me as a warrior since the age of 7. My mother died of fever when I was 8, and even if I remember her well, I grew up without her. We were nobles, but no one was safe from the marauding barbarians who attacked castles like ours to seize booty and frighten everyone from the land. When they attacked our castle ten days ago, I had fought alongside my father and my brothers. But our castle had been burned, and. I alone survived. When my younger brother was killed right beside me, I slashed his killer across the neck and fled. I swore I would fight them another day.

I hid in the woods for two days, found one of our horses that had not been rounded up and herded away.

I had entered these woods after a long journey from the North.

After hours without water or food I was beginning to lose my strength, and I was no match for the three drunken thieves I came upon. They grabbed my horse and my arm before I could hoist my sword. They pulled me to the ground and tore at my dress, exposing my breasts, touching them with dirty hands. I was frightened, of course, but my mind registered the events coldly: I just wanted to find the right moment to fight them. No matter how hard I kicked and squirmed, two of them forcefully held me down while one began unfastening his pants. Then, that terrible filthy man straddled my leg and ordered me to look at him. “I will punish you with this!” he groaned while his huge, throbbing member was pointing at me.

It was too much. As he kneeled and reached to push my legs apart, my anger exploded and with all the strength I could summon I managed to lift my knee, hitting him on his testicles. The maniac fell right against his comrades who had been too concentrated on my breasts until the last second to react. The three of them fell to the ground, and I ran as fast as I could. I did not have time to panic.

They began running after me, but they were drunk and I was too fast. They lost track after a short while and I entered the brush with a smile of relief.

In the quite of the fog, as the light was fading and chill was settling in, I shuddered and looked around. I had to survive the night. I sat on a cold stone covered with musk and fell asleep immediately.

I woke up a few moments later with a start. I had a sense of being watched…why? I turned around and I realized I was not alone.

A man in his mid-thirties was staring at me; his horse was probably nearby because I could hear it. He was strong, his dark hair cut short, he was muscular built and wore leather armour with a black robe. He had a sword with him, and I gulped down my fear, not knowing what to expect. Then, I met his dark and golden shaded eyes…my heart missed a beat. He saw me sleeping, I thought, and I instinctively covered my breasts with my hands, embarrassed.

He had a beautiful face — a long elegant nose, sensual lips, and chiselled features. “Have you been here for long, young lady?” he asked me, his tone steady yet deep and serious.

I tried to catch my breath and calm down. “Well…I…no, not for long.”

His eyes looked at my breasts, and he moved closer. “Did someone hurt you?”

I took a deep breath and decided to speak.

“My Lord, I had just left my town when I opted for a protected travel across the forest, and I bumped into a bunch of thieves. They stole my horse, everything I brought for my journey. That’s why you see me in such a state…but they didn’t have the time to…” I blushed. “I managed to fight and eventually saved myself.” I paused. “I am Caroline of Peverell….” He stopped me. “This forest is wicked, especially for pretty young ladies like you. You shouldn’t have decided to enter it.” It was patronizing, but I simply nodded. “My name is Guillaume Deschamps. I wish to do you no harm. I live near this forest. We need to get you out of here as soon as we can.” We locked eyes again; I felt a positive feeling comforting my soul as well as my tired body.

We approached his horse, a strong, proud black animal. I caressed the horse’s nose. “Here, let me help you.” I felt a jolt of electricity running up my spine as he lifted me up… “Gothard is not an easy ride. You’d better put your arms around my waist, like this,” he suggested, reaching back and pulling an arm around him. I felt so silly: here I was, lost in the woods and above all, I was feeling attracted to this stranger.

We trotted, my breasts brushing against his leather-covered body, my arms around his waist. I felt warm. We remained silent for a while, then I decided to break the silence.

“I see from your sword that you must be of noble’s heritage, and a soldier.” I said.

“Yes, but not any more,” he replied. “My life is simple and quieter now.”

“My brother was a soldier as well. But…he died. I am my family’s sole survivor. The barbarians destroyed our castle after we fought against them.” I tried to use a steady tone, but I am sure he felt me tremble all over…he squeezed my arms.

“I am sorry. It must be an unbearable loss.” His voice was polite. I put my head on his back. He did not protest. Maybe he thought I fell asleep.

The horse increased its pace and I stiffened, my breasts pressed against his back, caressing them. I suffocated a small moan. Was he feeling my hard nipples pointing out?

“Stop” he ordered. We were in a large field surrounded by willow trees. A stone cottage was in front of us.

“Such a beautiful place, so peaceful,” I said.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yes, I like loneliness.”

He climbed off the horse and offered his hand. I let it wrap mine and I felt a rush again as he put his other hand on my waist and helped me down.

“Welcome to my cottage. Carolina,” he said with kind smile, awkwardly dropped my hand.

My name, pronounced from his lips with a low voice worked its magic on me…I shyly smiled, realizing that my skin was tingling, my heart was racing and I couldn’t cope all this sensation without being noticed. He opened the wooden door and we went inside.

The first room was a small salon. It had a stone wall and simple wooden furniture, except for a leather sofa that was placed strategically in front of a big fireplace. A place to recover and heal heart scars, forgetting Evil on Earth.

Lace curtains hung at the small square windows. A woman’s touch? My stomach twisted. “It’s a really nice place to live,” I softly said as I looked around.

“For luck, I left the fire on. Please, sit and warm yourself, you must be freezing.”

He went to a table, poured a glass of red wine for me and another for himself, and offered some bread. I ate silently while he adjusted the fire.

“You must have a bad opinion of this impulsive lost woman.” I said. I dropped my eyes from his.

“You’ve been strong and full of courage, Lady Caroline; a female warrior deserves all my admiration. I just know that women end up badly in this forest…believe me, for I learnt it too well.”

“Why?” the question came out of my mouth before I could stop it. I turned to see his resigned, angry expression.

“You see, I’m alone now. But I wasn’t before.”

He paused and I asked, “Were you married?”

He nodded. “She was riding her horse alone in this forest, just like you, and she died exactly where I found you. She was a warrior like you. After her death, I changed my life completely.” He stared at the flames in the fireplace.

I wanted to ask him if he found the killers who tool his wife’s life, but I didn’t want to be too indiscrete. “I’m sorry.” I whispered. I instinctively put my hand on his again. God, I wished to cure his soul.

“Caroline….”

His eyes looked at mine for a moment, then wandered to my body. I held my breath. Every part of me was on edge, waiting. Stop it, I said to myself once again. You don’t even know each other.

He cleared his throat and looked away, awkward again. “I set some water by the fire; it should be warm by now. I thought you’d be happy to take a bath. My wooden tub is in that corner.” He stood up. “I will exit so you can have your privacy.” He picked up his cloak and started to the door.

“Guillaume,” I said. He turned, his eyes so wide and dark. “Don’t be too far from the house, please.”

He smiled. “I’ll just be outside. There are some dresses in that drawer if you need them.” He caressed me from head to toe with his wonderful eyes and left me alone.

I took the pot full of water and poured it inside the wooden tub; I mixed it together with cold water, then removed the remnants of my dress and undergarments. My right hand touched a nipple. It was hard, and I felt another rush of desire between my legs. “I wonder how it would be to lie with him,” I thought. I imagined his firm stomach and strong back that I had been holding during the ride a short time ago. I lifted my leg to step into the tub, and let my left hand drift to my pubic hair and slide to the top of my slit. It was damp, as I knew it would be.

I sat down in the warm water and kept sliding down until my shoulders were almost under water. On the side of the tub was soap with a fir scent, like the trees in the forest. I slid down further until the water covered my head and my long blond hair for a few moments. It had been so many days since a bath.

I started washing myself with a piece of cloth and rubbed the mud from my hair, my face, my arms, my breasts, and my feet. As I rubbed the cloth across my breasts, my nipples were still hard. I imagined it was his hand washing me, and I pinched my nipple in pleasure. I imagined him now, without his shirt. I put my head back and savoured the moment, then I put the cloth aside and rubbed the soap down my stomach and between my legs. I was tingling now, and I pressed the soap against my sex. Then I let the soap slip from my hand and touched myself with my fingers. I imagined that he must have bathed inside this tub many times, and perhaps touched his own naked body the way I was touching mine. I imagined his cock, hard, as his hands washed it.