Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Knight, the War-taken Thrall, and The Well At The World's End (ped F/b
M/b M/g Mt/g spank reluc romantic fantasy)

   Written by cc

   [This is a 'parody' of a beloved fantasy story called 'The Well at the
World's End', by an author named William Morris.  It is public domain,
available on the 'Net, and I highly recommend it.

   For my long-time faithful readers (yes, both of you!), please note: like
'Tiger Tiger', this story also has a factor in it not previously seen in my
stories, this time it is 'M/b' (in 'Tiger' it was 'pseudo'-bestiality). 
Like 'Tiger', this is a one-off, not likely to be repeated.

   The alert reader may note that I 'cut and pasted' some sections of
William Morris' work.  I make no apologies for this for the following
reasons:

   It is public domain, the author is dead, no one is harmed.  I make no
money from this.  It took effort to determine which sections to use, and
then extensive editing of many of the sections was required.  There are
extensive stretches of original material (mostly the 'action' scenes,
Morris not being particularly given to PT BDSM, after all).

   p.s.  'Thrall' means 'slave'.]



   Long ago there was a little land, over which ruled a regulus or kinglet,
who was called King Peter, though his kingdom was but little.  He had four
sons whose names were Blaise, Hugh, Gregory and Ralph: of these Ralph was
the youngest, whereas he was but of ten winters less one; and Blaise was
the oldest and had seen twenty and five winters.

   Now so it was that these princes were diverse of their conditions; for
the evil conditions which one of them lacked the other had, and the
valiancy which one had, the other lacked.  Blaise was wise and prudent, but
no great man of his hands.  Hugh was a stout rider and lifter, but
headstrong and foolhardy, and over bounteous a skinker; and Gregory was
courteous and many worded, but sluggish in deed; though perhaps not a
dastard.  As for Ralph, he was fair to look on, and peradventure he might
grow to be as wise as Blaise, as valiant as Hugh, and as smooth-tongued as
Gregory; but of all this little or nothing was known, whereas he was but
young and untried.

   Now King Peter's holding was goodly, even if 'twere but a little land:
wherein was no great merchant city; no mighty castle, or noble abbey of
monks: nought but fair little halls of yeomen, with here and there a
franklin's court or a shield-knight's manor-house; with many a goodly
church, and whiles a house of good canons, who knew not the road to Rome,
nor how to find the door of the Chancellor's house.  And the men of that
country were stubborn and sturdy vavassors, and might not away with
masterful doings, but were like to pay back a blow with a blow, and a foul
word with a buffet.
And withal King Peter was a kind and wise sovereign, and taxed not his
people grievously, nor at all except in times of great need.  And his
people were likewise generous and kindhearted.  What thralls there were
they treated gently and fairly, and King Peter would not suffer the Black
Pillar to be used, even for the most dastardly of villains, but sought for
them a fair trial and a speedy end by noose or blade.  The Red Pillar there
was, but seldom was such penalty imposed, and none could remember its last

usage.

   The White Pillar indeed was to be found in almost every house.  Even the
meanest of cottages had what served for it, be it chair or post, and the
great houses oft had more than one.  For it was the custom of the folk of
that land to bind their girl-thralls, their children, and yea even their
wives to the White Pillar for the mildest of offenses, and there to ply the
strop, or the switch, or like instrument, on the buttocks and thigh, and
yea even more intimate places than these.  Yet nought was there to be found
of cruelty, for all held it wrongful to leave stripe or welt worse than a
mere redness that belike would fade ere moon rose or cock crew.  And withal
would the whipping-cheer be entwined with the clipping and the caressing
and the kissing, so that oft would girl- or woman-thrall, or wife, or e'en
child be brought to climax sweet during such discipline.  And in this
fashion much love was there betwixt master and slave, husband and wife, and
father and children.

   Yet one thing more may be said of the custom of that land, that all,
even the monks, held it lawful and good that the master of the house
should, as part of what discipline he may mete out, use his manhood to
violate the anus of any child in his care, or female slave of the
household, save only that this must cease when a boy first displayed the
marks of manhood, namely the hair growing 'twixt his legs.

   Now it came to this at last, that Ralph was to be sent out into the
world, perchance to seek a trade, as was the custom for the younger sons of
the king.  Yet withal he was but a small lad, and so it fell out that he
was to be sent to a good cheaping-town hight Wulstead, beyond which Ralph
knew little of the world which lay to the south, and seemed to him a
wondrous place, full of fair things and marvelous adventures.  The servant
who was sent to be his ward along the way led him to the house of a man
whom the lad knew, and had often given him guesting there, and he himself
was not seldom seen in the High House of Upmeads.  This man was a merchant,
who went and came betwixt men's houses, and bought and sold many things
needful and pleasant to folk, and King Peter dealt with him much and often.

   Now he stood in the door of his house, which was new and goodly,
sniffing the sweet scents which the morning wind bore into the town; he was
clad in a goodly long gown of grey welted with silver, of thin cloth meet
for the summer-tide: for little he wrought with his hands, but much with
his tongue; he was a man of forty summers, ruddy-faced and black-bearded,
and he was called Clement Chapman.

   When he saw Ralph he smiled kindly on him, and came and held his stirrup
as he lighted down, and said: "Welcome, lord!  Art thou come to give me a
message, and eat and drink in a poor huckster's house, and thou so gallant
a king's son?"

   Ralph laughed merrily, for he was hungry, and he said: "Yea, I will eat
and drink with thee and kiss my gossip, but then I am minded to guest with
thee, and it is for this that my father has sent me, an' thou wilt."

   Then did Clement Chapman smile the more, for dearly did he love this
king's son, and well was he pleased to have him for an apprentice for this
whiles.

   Therewith the carle led him into the house; and if it were goodly
without, within it was better.  For there was a fair chamber paneled with
wainscot well carven, and a cupboard of no sorry vessels of silver and
latten: the chairs and stools as fair as might be; no king's might be
better: the windows were glazed, and there were flowers and knots and
posies in them; and the bed was hung with goodly web from over sea such as
the soldan useth.  Also, whereas the chapman's ware-bowers were hard by the
chamber, there was a pleasant mingled smell therefrom floating about.  The
table was set with meat and drink and vessel of pewter and earth, all fair
and good; and thereby stood the chapman's wife, a very goodly woman of a
score and five years, who had held Ralph at the font when she was a slim
damsel new wedded; for she was come of no mean kindred of the Kingdom of
Upmeads: her name was Dame Katherine.
Now she kissed Ralph's cheek friendly, and said: "Welcome, gossip!  thou
art here in good time to break thy fast; and we will give thee a trim
dinner thereafter, when thou hast been here and there in the town and done
thine errand; and then shalt thou drink a cup and sing me a song, and so

home again in the cool of the evening."

   And when Dame Katherine learned that young Ralph was to guest with her
and her Goodman for some length of time, well pleased was she, and gladly
did she welcome the little prince into her house.  So she did strain him to
her bosom, so well did she love him, and nothing loath was he at this, for
he was but a little lad, and she a comely matron.  And the Goodman did
smile to see them thus, for well he knew how Dame Katherine did long for a
child of her own, and was yet barren.

   Thus began for young Ralph an exceeding pleasant time, filled with the
learning and the doing, the training and the practice.  Of chaffer he
learned from Clement Chapman, his letters (of which, forsooth, he already
knew summat) did he practice under the Abbot of the town and Dame Katherine
herself, and of point and edge did he learn from Sir Ector, a knight of
some renown who guested in the town, resting from his labors, being
advanced in years.

   And withal was there time enow for frolic with the other lads of the
town, and oft could young Ralph be seen in their company, running hither
and yon, and many a scrape did he make with them.  For a young lad is born
to mischief 'as the sparks fly upwards', and Ralph was in nowise an
exception to the old saw.  For the most part did Dame Katherine wink at his
pranks, but at the last, after an incident involving the aged Abbot's
chair, three stray cats, and some shards of broken pottery, she did take
him sternly in hand.

   Forsooth, so downcast and repentant was he as she lectured him, that she
scarce had the heart to discipline him further, yet she knew that it was
belike her duty.  And not immune was she to the allure of his slender
little-boy's body, and she yearned to see him all mother-naked and bound to
the White Pillar, so fair and goodly a lad was he.  So there she led him,
and stripped him, and bound him with his nether parts outward.  A firm and
brisk spanking did she give him with bare hand, and his yelps and cries did
fill the parlor, 'til his bottom was fetchingly reddened, and she judged
him duly chastened.  Then did she loose him, and gather him still all
mother-naked to her bosom, and did caress and soothe him, rubbing his
reddened buttocks gently, and such there was of love between them, and the
clipping and the kissing, that Ralph scarce knew whether he was sorry to
have been so punished so or not.

   Much improved was young Ralph's behavior for some little time after
that, but it is not to be expected that this state of affairs would long
last.  There came a time when Dame Katherine went to the storehouse for
some nutmeat to be made into their supper, only to find that Ralph (for it
scarce could have been any other, and his footprints clearly seen in the
dust of the floorboards) had been plundering, and nought was left but
husks. Upon being upbraided for this transgression, and seeing the hurt in
Dame Katherine's countenance, for she had counted on the provender for a
dish she had planned specially for the lad himself, young Ralph did burst
into tears and flung himself into her arms and fair sobbed, so sorry was he
at his fault.

   But Dame Katherine was determined that he should bear the consequences
of his misdeeds, and that it should make even more of an impression upon
him.  So was the little lad of ten bound once more, all mother-naked, to
the White Pillar, his little penys pressed against the cold marble, his
buttocks exposed to the spanking that the matron brought to bear, as she
enjoyed the sight of them jiggling up and down, and the sound of the lad's
yelps.  Then did she pause, and rub him soothingly, but did not yet loose
him.  All too soon he knew the reason, for she did ply a tawse upon the
backs of his thighs, and forsooth upon his already-reddened bottom,
snapping the ancient tool back and forth as he cried out.  After some
little time of such whipping-cheer, she did make shift to loose him, but
only to bind him backwards against the White Pillar, now pressing his
chastened buttocks against the cold marble, and the front of his thighs,
and his little boyhood, already half-stiffening from his discipline, were
fully displayed to Dame Katherine's eager gaze.

   Then did she front-whip him with the tawse, with the SNAP!  of the tool
mixing with the little boy's cries as the faint redness did spring to the
front of his thighs with each stroke upon them.  And forsooth she did not
spare his penys from discipline, but did bring the tawse to bear upon the
shaft and tip of it, sparing only the little bag underneath, and fetchingly
reddened did his little member soon become, and wild were his cries and
much did he writhe and dance in his bonds at such treatment, and forsooth
so stiff did his boyhood become that the tip of his glans did become
visible through the end of his foreskin, as it had scarce done before,
forasmuch as he was so little a lad.  And on seeing this, Dame Katherine
did shift her aim, and delivered stroke after stroke directly upon the tip
of him, and even wilder did his cries and his writhing become, 'twere
possible.

   Then did she fetch the chamber pot, and the sheep's bladder, and the
curiously carven nozzle that fit thereon, and she did insert it into anus
of the lad and did rinse him well, and much did he moan thereat to feel the
nozzle invade him, and the liquid fill him.  And finally he was
well-cleansed, and she did end with some water perfumed with such sweet
scents as Clement Chapman would chaffer for in the markets.

   Then did the matron fasten the lad again facing the Pillar, save that
now bent was he over a stanchion that she did place at the middle of him,
such that his bottom all reddened was well displayed, and anus bared was
he, as he did sniffle and whimper.  Then did she take up a curious device,
which her Goodman had obtained for her in a far country and for a pretty
penny.  Carven it was like unto the rampant member of a man, yet not quite
as thick, and 'twas double-ended, and after she had thrust one end into her
womanhood (and not without a moan of pleasure), she did fasten it around
her midsection by means of a strap affixed unto it.  Then did she drop some
soothing oil on the tip of it, and placed it against his anus, which did
clench and tremble at the touch, and did thrust it deep within the young
boy with one stroke, and he did scream once, and but shortly, and then did
sob and wail, as she did caress and stroke him, and remind him of her love
and care for him.  Thus was he quieted, and soon did but sob and sniff at
whiles.  Then did she commence to rape his anus in earnest, with hard
thrusting and quick, and he did cry out hoarsely with each, and she did
reach about him and sternly but lovingly handle his little boyhood with
squeezing and pinching, and the end of the instrument she did wield pressed
so firmly against his glans prostatus as it violated him, until perforce
was he brought to climax, yelping and writhing, and Dame Katherine herself,
seeing him so punished and so pleasured at one time, did herself spend and
spend, and unloosed him, and took him in her arms still impaled upon her
tool, and there was the kissing and the clipping once more, and so
delirious was he with the feelings that were so strange to the young lad,
and yet seemed so fitting, that were he given the choice of repeating the
experience, or never having to submit so again, he scarce knew how he would
reply.

   It is not to be wondered at that it was not long ere Ralph was errant
once more.  For he and another lad or two, though they loved Sir Ector
indeed, and were fain to learn what warcraft he would teach, did conspire
to loosen his cinch strap in such wise that, as he mounted his charger to
teach his young pupils of the tilting, and the set of the spear, and the
use of the shield, he did slip and fall on his bottom end, and did sware
'that the boys would likewise smart on their bottom ends or my name is not
Sir Ector'.  So the lads were given over each to their guardians, and Dame
Katherine could not decide which tried her the more, the vexing of knowing
how Ralph had so treated the old knight, or her mirth at the affair.

   Thus Ralph was bound again to the White Pillar, and again Dame Katherine
did spank and whip him, with bare hand and switch and strop, and his
slender thighs and round bottom did glow faintly as his moans and cries
filled the air, mingled with the SNAP and WHAP!  of each stroke.  Once more
did Dame Katherine turn him 'round and bound him backwards to the Pillar,
and did ply the strop on the front of his thighs as he yelped, then full
upon his little member, half-swelling as it was from the stimulation, and
he did jump and writhe and shout as he felt his little boyhood treated so.
And once more did she cleanse him well with the sheep's bladder and the
nozzle.

   Distracted as Ralph was by Dame Katherine's ministrations, he noticed
not that Clement Chapman was also in the chamber of the White Pillar, and
sat nearby looking on.  Then did Dame Katherine bend the lad again over the
stanchion, his wrists fastened to the White Pillar, his little bottom fully
displayed and his anus bared.  The matron sat down on a stool and cradled
his chest and head in her lap and kissed him and fondled him, and he did
wonder for but a moment at this, as he was still bound.  Then did the man
of the house approach him, and give him a few spanks on his bottom already
reddened, and his thighs also, and it is not to be wondered at that Ralph
cried out, for Clement Chapman was a large man and strong.  Then took he
his tool from out of his breeches, and Ralph, looking back, did see how
long and thick it was, and rampant.  The Goodman dropped some of the
soothing oil on little Ralph's anus, and did massage and probe, and even
spank the boy full upon it, and the lad did yelp and jump to feel himself
so molested.  Then Clement Chapman could hold back no longer, but did
plunge his manhood near to the hilt with one stroke deep within the little
boy's anus, punishment-raping him with thrusts stern and quick, as the boy
sobbed and wailed.  Then did Dame Katherine take him in her arms, and kiss
and caress him, and pinch and twist the end of his little penys and stroke
it, and even undid her blouse and offer her nipples to the boy to suckle,
which he did an' 'twere in a daze, and much comfort it did afford him, and
even as Clement Chapman did grunt out his pleasure and empty his seed
inside little Ralph, the lad did also shout, and writhe, and climax, and
Dame Katherine did loose him, and she and her Goodman did hold him, and
there was much of the kissing and the clipping, and it is not to be
wondered at that the matron and her man had much pleasure of each other at
the midnight hour when Ralph was deep asleep.

   It was not long after Clement Chapman had punishment-raped young Ralph
that Dame Katherine, attending to the lad's bath (which afforded much
opportunity for some small whipping-cheer, as the spanking of wet bottom
and penys, and the attendant pleasure for both boy and matron), did note
the first signs of manhood upon him, namely the hair between his legs, and
so it was that Ralph was sent back to the land of Upmeads and his father's
hall, to complete his training as squire and then knight after that, and
while he was loath to leave his gossip and her man, eager was he to grow
up, as all children are, even as all those who are grown long to be
children again.

   And so did Ralph's childhood pass, and his young manhood begin, and
while it mayhap seemed an eternity to the lad, 'twas not long ere he was a
belted knight at eighteen years of age, with a squire of his own, hight
Henry, and a likely lad of fifteen was he, and of goodly house in the land
of Upmeads.

   At the time that Ralph became a knight, as was oft the manner of the
folk of the high houses of that land, his father gave him a girl-thrall,
and a lithe and lissome little wench of but eleven summers was she, and her
name was Martha.  Nothing loth was Ralph at this, and much pleasure did he
have of the girl, and much indeed did she see of the White Pillar, for
Ralph would bind her to it upon the slightest pretext, or none at all. 
Then would he spank her bare round bottom as she yelped and danced, and
take the belt to her thighs, and let the strap-end of it snap between her
legs full upon her unfledged cleftlips and the clitoris thereof as she
keened.  Nor would he fail to handle her charms lasciviously until she was
forced to climax repeatedly.

   Yet withal, oft would he give some implement of punishment to his squire
and let him discipline the little thrall whilst he himself looked on.  For
something held him back from fully enjoying the charms of little Martha,
and at whiles he wondered at himself.  Fair indeed, and slender was she,
and of good house, for his parents had thought her a fit mate for Ralph,
and 'twas assumed that they would be married in time, and this was a not
uncommon thing in Upmeads, for a girl to be given so to a young man, with
the parents of both hoping and planning for a union of the twain.  Yet
Ralph had noted, while there was nought of disrespect or disloyalty in
either, that little Martha's eyes were more oft on young Henry, and he
likewise seemed to dote upon her, and nothing loth was young Henry to
deliver his master's discipline upon the little maiden, nor Martha to
receive it from him.  And Ralph would at whiles find them together all
innocently, strolling down the lane 'twixt the stables and the garden, or
mayhap taking their nuncheon on the castle wall together, kicking their
legs all unawares after the manner of children everywhere if their feet
reach not the ground where they sit.  And fain he was to see them so, for
he loved the twain greatly, and did smile upon them when he would meet them
so, and much happiness did the three have in each other's company.

   It is not to be wondered at that to Ralph the kingdom of his father grew
to seem strait; and he longed to see the ways of other men, and to strive
for life.  For though he was a king's son, he had but little world's
wealth; save and except good meat and drink, and enough or too much
thereof; house-room of the best; friends to be merry with, freedom withal
to come and go as he would; the heavens above him, the earth to bear him
up, and the meadows and acres, the woods and fair streams, and the little
hills of Upmeads.

   And his squire Henry and his little thrall Martha noted Ralph's mood,
and Henry knew that the time for Ralph to sojourn as a knight was come, and
he himself would like enow be left behind to finish his training, and
certes he had no desire to leave Upmeads yet.  Then did he and Martha hold
counsel, for loved they both their young master, and there came a day when
Henry bound little Martha to the White Pillar, and did ply the strop and
switch, and yea e'en his bare hand upon the buttocks of her, and pinched
and twisted her nipples and breastbuds, and molested her unfledged cleft
and whipped her anus also, such that she writhed and moaned most
fetchingly. And Ralph looked on, and was not unmoved by the spectacle, but
watched only, as was his wont of late, leaving Henry free reign to enjoy
Martha's charms as he wilt.  Then did Henry bend the young girl over a
stanchion, with her anus full bared and fetchingly reddened from his
ministrations, and clenching visibly, as her chest heaved with emotion.

   Then did the squire Henry speak unto his master the young knight and
say, "Sir Ralph, do ye not think that it is time for this little
girl-thrall, naught as she has been, to be disciplined e'en as is the wont
of fathers and masters through the land, namely with the manhood in her
anus?"

   "Yea, I deem it so, and thou, Henry, are the man for her; have at it!"
did Ralph reply, and meant it well, tho' mayhap he did cast a quick look of
desire at the proffered nether flower of the fair young girl-thrall, framed
as it was by the fetchingly reddened cheeks of her trim buttocks.

   Then Henry and little Martha did exchange glances, and the squire said,
"Not so, Sir Ralph."

   And the lass looked back at the young knight and said, "Yea, fair
master, for we deem it only fitting that thou shouldst have first use of
me, and thou so loving and good withal to us twain, for we well wot that
thou must leave us soon, and we will be grieved at the parting, and I would
fain feel thy manhood punishing me before thou goest, naught as I have
been, and as for master Henry, he well wots that he shalt have that and
more of me ere long." And the two young lovers smiled at each other, and
Henry did bend down and kiss his little maiden most tenderly, and did seize
her breastbuds, and knead and work them, and pinch the nipples thereof as
she gasped and moaned.

   Then did Ralph suffer himself to be persuaded, and undid his breeches,
and his manhood sprang forth erect, and he dropped the oil upon it, and
pressed the head thereof to her clenching anus, and did thrust within her.
The little girl did scream once and shortly at the loss of the maidenhood
of her anus, and then did weep softly with shoulders shaking, and Henry did
kiss and comfort his sweetling and caress her, and seized her unfledged
cleftlips and the clitoris thereof and did press and pinch and twist, and
Ralph stroked her naked back and shoulders, and soon her cries did still,
and she did but sob and sniff at whiles.  Then did Ralph commence to rape
her anus in earnest, with long thrusts and hard, punishing the little girl
with his manhood all rampant, and she did cry out hoarsely and writhe with
each thrust, and Henry did spank her with bare hand full upon her
maidenhood.  Certes was the taking of the little girl's anus a most
pleasing thing to the young man, at once so tight was she and warm, yet
soft and yielding withal.  And the little girl-thrall was in a welter of
confusion, what with the manhood so invading and disciplining her intimacy
and filling and stretching her tender nakedness, and the spanking of her
cleft and clitoris, and the punishment and the pleasure thereof did run
together in her being until she scarce knew who she was or where.  'Twas
not long ere the twain were climaxing together, and he did deign to empty
himself in her rectum, and the young man's grunts of pleasure mixed with
the little girl's cries of passion.  Then was she loosed, and much there
was of the kissing and clipping, and the sweet words and loving, but ere
long Ralph did slip away, leaving young Henry and little Martha entwined
each in the other's arms.  And it is not to be wondered at that the banns
were posted for the twain the next day, and no time was lost in the doing
of it.

   Now did Ralph feel all the more that it was time for him to go into the
world and seek what Providence would have for him.  And early on the morn
of the day appointed for his departure he said farewell to his squire and
his little girl-thrall betrothed with much kissing and clipping, and to his
parents and all his house, though his brothers had already left to seek
their fortunes, and some had done well, and some not so well, but all were
living and doing summat whether far or near.  And his mother cast her arms
about Ralph and kissed him and caressed him, for he was her best-beloved,
as was little marvel, seeing that he was by far the fairest and the most
loving.  But Ralph's face grew troubled in his mother's arms, for he loved
her exceeding well; and forsooth he loved the whole house and all that
dwelt there, down to the turnspit dogs in the chimney ingle, and the
swallows that nested in the earthen bottles, which when he was little he
had seen his mother put up in the eaves of the out-bowers: but now, love or
no love, the spur was in his side, and he must needs hasten as fate would
have him, though he vowed within himself that he would return once he had
made his mark on the world, or it upon him.

   So took he his wargear and his sword and spear, and took his destrier
from the stall (it was a dapple-grey horse called Falcon, and was right
good,) and armed himself and he came forth as brisk-looking and likely a
man-at-arms as you might see on a summer day.  Then he clomb up into the
saddle, and went his ways splashing across the ford.

   Then he rode on a little trot south away; and by then the sun was up he
was without the bounds of Upmeads; albeit in the land thereabout dwelt none
who were not friends to King Peter and his sons: and now were folk stirring
and were abroad in the fields; as a band of carles going with their scythes
to the hay-field; or a maiden with her milking-pails going to her kine,
barefoot through the seeding grass; or a company of noisy little lads on
their way to the nearest pool of the stream that they might bathe in the
warm morning after the warm night, and e'en a young damsel brought out of
the house she served by the man thereof, to receive public discipline so
early in the morn, with the tawse across her trim buttocks bared for all to
see and her countenance near as crimson as her nether parts.  Yet withal
she did look as it were out of the corner of her eye at Ralph as he passed
and gave the sele of the day to the Goodman of the house, and seemingly did
she writhe and cry out all the more passionately as he passed, and gazed
after him when he had gone by, for Ralph was a goodly young man and fair.
All these and more knew him and his armour and Falcon his horse, and
returned him the sele of the day, and they thought it no wonder to meet one
of the lords of Upmeads going armed about his errands, though their own
errands were close at home, and it was little likely that they should go
that day so far as to Upmeads Water, seeing that it ran through the meadows
a half-score miles to the north-ward.

   So Ralph rode on, and came into the high road, that led one way back
again into Upmeads, and crossed the Water by a fair bridge late builded
between King Peter and a house of Canons on the north side, and the other
way into the cheaping-town hight Wulstead where Ralph had spent some of his
young boyhood as has been previously related, beyond which Ralph knew
little of the world which lay to the south, and seemed to him a wondrous
place, full of fair things and marvelous adventures.

   So he came ere long to the house of Clement Chapman and his goodwife
Dame Katherine, whom Ralph loved well and loved they him also.  When the
Chapman saw Ralph he smiled once more to see him, remembering well the day
when Ralph had come to stay with him and his mistress when the young knight
was only a boy.  Oft had they seen him since then as well, for no small
dealings did the Chapman have with Upmeads and King Peter's house, and Dame
Katherine had told him that she wot well that Ralph would pass their way
ere long, for summat of the foreseeing did she have.  And so Clement
Chapman came and held his stirrup as he lighted down, and said: "Welcome,
lord!  Art thou come to sojourn once more at this house, and thou armed so
gallantly?  Or art thou come to eat and drink thy fill?"

   Ralph laughed merrily, for he was hungry, and he said: "Yea, I will eat
and drink with thee and kiss my gossip, and go my ways."

   So went they into the Chapman's house, and right glad of his coming was
Dame Katherine.  All the more did she love Ralph, for she was yet barren,
and it was a grief to her, and she did look upon the young man almost as a
son, and indeed he was her godson.  Yet when she beheld him now, all armed
and armoured, and tall and princely, almost as a damsel again did she feel.

   When they had drank the cup, then did Clement Chapman say to Ralph,
"Now, king's son, thou hast happened along at a time most opportune, for I
would fain have thine assistance in a matter."

   "Thou hast but to ask, Master Clement, as well thou wottest," replied
Ralph.

   "My goodwife is a woman most worthy, as well thou knowest, but e'en the
most worthy wife will need discipline at whiles.  And it seems meet to me
that thou shouldst aid me in this, seeing as thou hast received summat of
the sort from her in times past," averred the Chapman, and it seemed good
to Ralph to assent to such a proposition, and Dame Katherine looking on
shyly yet withal nothing loth, for much did she love and was loved by her
Goodman, and she trusted him to use her well for punishment and for
pleasure, and she longed to feel Ralph's hands upon her charms to
discipline her, and she still a slender and a goodly woman, for all that
she had seen thirty summers and five.

   So the men took her and stripped her mother-naked and bound her to the
White Pillar with her buttocks outward and her firm breasts pressed to the
marble of it.  And they did ply the tawse, and the strop, and the switch,
yea and even the strap-ends of their belts upon the thighs of her, and her
fair bottom, turn and turn about, and her cries did fill the air mingled
with the SNAP!  of each stroke.

   Then did they bind her facing outwards, and her nakedness now so fully
revealed, e'en her breasts with the nipples erect thereof, and they did
heave with emotion, and her gleaming thighs, and the womanhood nestled
between, and the hair sparse and trimmed thereupon such that the lips and
clitoris were unfledged, and only a trace left upon her mons was there, for
such was how her Goodman would have it.  Then was there much of
whipping-cheer, and the moans and cries of her, as they administered her
discipline with a will, to wit the crop upon her heaving bosom and the nips
thereof, til they were fetchingly reddened and stiff with passion, and the
strap and switch upon the front of her thighs so fair, and the faint red
lines forming thereon that faded slowly.  Then nought would do but they
would strap her full upon her womanhood, and the clitoris thereof, and loud
were her cries, and fair her writhings in her bonds, and they did fain to
look upon her so, and she so full of passion.

   Then did Master Clement rebind her again facing the Pillar, and bent
over the self-same stanchion that had upon a time born Ralph, and the
buttocks of her fetchingly reddened so well-displayed, and her anus fully
bared and winking in the light to which it was so unaccustomed, and the
young man could scarce take his gaze from her.

   "King's son," said the Chapman, "It were right and meet for thou to
stand in my stead now as master of the house, and I hereby grant that right
to thee, for I hold thee to be my liege-lord, whether thou wilt or no.  And
therefore thou mayest claim the droigt de seigneur.  What sayest thou? 
Wilt thou be the man and give this fair woman the discipline of your
manhood, which she both needs and desires?" And Ralph could see Dame
Katherine's countenance and the look upon it, at once both shy and wanton,
and it is not to be wondered at that he assented and right speedily.  And
the Goodman had made sure that his lady had full emptied and cleansed
herself earlier right well with the carven nozzle and the sheep's bladder.

   Then did Ralph undo his breeches, and his tool sprang erect as it came
forth, and he did drop the oil thereupon, and without further preamble did
thrust it home into the sheath which she proffered to him and she did cry
out as he did so, and his manhood filled and stretched and disciplined the
anus of her, and Clement Chapman spanked her full upon her naked cleft and
the clitoris thereof, and Ralph did barely manage to master himself until
she began to climax with shouts of passion, and even so did he spend and
spend within her with many a groan of pleasure.  Then did they loose and
embrace her, and there was the kissing and the clipping amongst them, and
much joy did they have in each other.

   Then did the Chapman take his wife into a chamber hard by, and closed
the door, yet did he entreat Ralph to stay near and listen, for he would
hear the final fruit of Dame Katherine's discipline, tho' 'twere not meet
for the young man to witness it.  And for a short space he heard again the
sound of the SNAP of the crop and strop upon the lady's fair and naked
flesh, and her shouts of passion, but for a little time only, and then he
did hear her sweet cries mixed with Clement Chapman's deeper groans and
grunts, as he did impale her womanhood with his manhood, driving deeper and
with more force than he had ever used before, and she nothing loth to
receive it, and it seemed to them both that when he spent his seed it went
far into the womb of her.

   Now was come the end of Ralph's abiding in these parts for that time,
and they were to take their last repast together, and grievous would their
parting had been, for much love was there betwixt them.  Yet Dame Katherine
and Clement Chapman knew that Ralph must go, for his heart would grieve him
but once, to wit his lifelong, did he not try what Providence had for him
in the wide world.

   And Dame Katherine said, "Take my word for it that my gossip shall go
through the world and come back to those that love him, as goodly as he
went forth.  And hold!  here is for a token thereof."

   Therewith she went to an ark that stood in the corner, and groped in the
till thereof and brought out a little necklace of blue and green stones
with gold knobs betwixt, like a pair of beads; albeit neither pope nor
priest had blessed them; and tied to the necklace was a little box of gold
with something hidden therein.  This gaud she gave to Ralph, and said to
him: "Gossip, wear this about thy neck, and let no man take it from thee,
and I think it will be salvation to thee in peril, and good luck to thee in
the time of questing; so that it shall be to thee as if thou hadst drunk of
the WELL AT THE WORLD'S END."

   "What is that water," said Ralph, "and how may I find it?"

   "I know not rightly," she said, "but if a body might come by it, I hear
say it saveth from weariness and wounding and sickness; and it winneth love
from all, and maybe life everlasting.  Hast thou not heard tell of it, my
husband?"

   "Yea," said the chapman, "many times; and how that whoso hath drunk
thereof hath the tongue that none may withstand, whether in buying or
selling, or prevailing over the hearts of men in any wise.  But as for its
whereabouts, ye shall not find it in these parts.  Men say that it is
beyond the Dry Tree; and that is afar, God wot!"

   Ralph stood smiling, weighing the chaplet in his hand; but Dame
Katherine said:

   "Dear gossip, do it on speedily; for it is a gift from me unto thee: and
from a gossip even king's sons may take a gift."

   Quoth Ralph: "But is it lawful to wear it?  Is there no wizardry within
it?"

   "Hearken to him!" she said, "and how like unto a man he speaketh; if
there were a brawl in the street, he would strike in and ask no word
thereof, not even which were the better side: whereas here is my
falcon-chick frighted at a little gold box and a pair of Saracen beads."

   "Well," quoth Ralph, "the first holy man I meet shall bless them for
me."

   "That shall he not," said the dame, "that shall he not.  Who wotteth
what shall betide to thee or me if he do so?  Come, do them on, and then to
table!  For seest thou not that the goodman is wearying for meat?  And even
thine eyes will shine the brighter for a mouthful, king's son and gossip."
She took him by the hand and did the beads on his neck and kissed and
fondled him before he sat down, while the Goodman looked on, grinning
rather sheepishly, but said nought to them.

   So when they were set down, the chapman took up the word where it had
been dropped, and said: "So, Lord Ralph, thou must needs take to
adventures, being, as thou deemest, full grown.  That is all one as the
duck taketh to water despite of the hen that hath hatched her.  Well, it
was not to be thought that Upmeads would hold you much longer.  Sayest I
not sooth?"

   Said Ralph: "Indeed, my brethren have already departed at all adventure,
north, east, and west, each bearing our father's blessing and a bag of
pennies.  And to speak the truth, goodman, my father and mother would have
had me stay at home when my brethren were gone, and that liketh me not;
therefore am I come out to seek my luck in the world: for Upmeads is good
for a star-gazer, maybe, or a simpler, or a priest, or a worthy good carle
of the fields, but not for a king's son with the blood running hot in his
veins.  Or what sayest thou, gossip?"

   Quoth the dame: "I could weep for thy mother; but for thee nought at
all. It is good that thou shouldest do thy will in the season of youth and
the days of thy pleasure.  Yea, and I deem that thou shalt come back again
great and worshipful; and I am called somewhat foreseeing.  Only look to it
that thou keep the pretty thing that I have just given thee."

   "Well," said the chapman, "this is fine talk about pleasure and the
doing of one's will; nevertheless a whole skin is good wares, though it be
not to be cheapened in any market of the world.  Now, lord, as for the name
of the next town, it is called Higham-on-the-Way, and is a big town
plenteous of victuals, with strong walls and a castle, and a very rich
abbey of monks: and there is peace within its walls, because the father
abbot wages a many men to guard him and his, and to uphold his rights
against all comers; wherein he doth wisely, and also well.  For much folk
flocketh to his town and live well therein; and there is great recourse of
chapmen thither.  No better market is there betwixt this and Babylon. 
Well, Sir Ralph, I rede thee if thou comest unhurt to Higham-on-the-Way, go
no further for this time, but take service with the lord abbot, and be one
of his men of war; thou may'st then become his captain if thou shouldest
live; which would be no bad adventure for one who cometh from Upmeads."

   Ralph looked no brighter for this word, and he answered nought to it:
but said presently:

   "And what is to be looked for beyond Higham if one goeth further?  Dost
thou know the land any further?"

   The carle smiled: "Yea forsooth, and down to the Wood Perilous, and
beyond it, and the lands beyond the Wood; and far away through them.  I say
not that I have been to the Dry Tree; but I have spoken to one who hath
heard of him who hath seen it; though he might not come by a draught of the
Well at the World's End."

   Ralph's eyes flashed, and his cheeks reddened as he listened hereto; but
he spake quietly:

   "Master Clement, how far dost thou make it to Higham-on-the-Way?"

   "A matter of forty miles," said the Chapman; "because, as thou wottest,
if ye ride south from hence, ye shall presently bring your nose up against
the big downs, and must needs climb them at once; and when ye are at the
top of Bear Hill, and look south away ye shall see nought but downs on
downs with never a road to call a road, and never a castle, or church, or
homestead: nought but some shepherd's hut; or at the most the little house
of a holy man with a little chapel thereby in some swelly of the chalk,
where the water hath trickled into a pool; for otherwise the place is
waterless."

   Therewith he took a long pull at the tankard by his side, and went on:

   "Higham is beyond all that, and out into the fertile plain; and a little
river hight Coldlake windeth about the meadows there; and it is a fair
land; though look you the wool of the downs is good, good, good!  I have
foison of this year's fleeces with me.  Ye shall raise none such in
Upmeads."

   Ralph sat silent a little, as if pondering, and then he started up and
said:
"Good master Clement, I have eaten thy meat and thank thee for that and
other matters.  Wilt thou now be kinder, and bid thy boy bring round Falcon

my horse?"

   "Yea, lord," said Clement, "even so will I do." Then he spake aloud
again, and said:

   "I must now begone to my lads, and I will send one round with thy
war-horse.  But take my rede, my lord, and become the man of the Abbot of
St.  Mary's of Higham, and all will be well."

   Therewith he edged himself out of the chamber, and the dame fell to
making a mighty clatter with the vessel and trenchers and cups on the
board, while Ralph walked up and down the chamber his war-gear jingling
upon him.  Presently the dame left her table-clatter and came up to Ralph
and looked kindly into his face and said: "Gossip, hast thou perchance any
money?"

   He flushed up red, and then his face fell; yet he spake gaily: "Yea,
gossip, I have both white and red: there are three golden crowns in my
pouch, and a little flock of silver pennies: forsooth I say not as many as
would reach from here to Upmeads, if they were laid one after the other."

   She smiled and patted his cheek, and said:

   "Thou art no very prudent child, king's son.  But it comes into my mind
that my master did not mean thee to go away empty-handed; else had he not
departed and left us twain together."

   Therewith she went to the credence that stood in a corner, and opened a
drawer therein and took out a little bag, and gave it into Ralph's hand,
and said: "This is the gift of the gossip; and thou mayst take it without
shame; all the more because if thy father had been a worser man, and a
harder lord he would have had more to give thee."

   He took the bag smiling and shame-faced, but she looked on him fondly
and said:

   "Wilt thou take service with the Abbot of St.  Mary's of Higham, lord,
and follow the rede of that goodman of mine, who thinketh himself as wise
as Solomon?"

   Ralph smiled and answered her nothing.

   "Well," she said, "Things will go as they wilt.  Lo, here!  thine horse.
Abide yet a moment of time, and then go whither thou needs must, like the
wind of the summer day."

   Therewith she went out of the chamber and came back again with a scrip
which she gave to Ralph and said: "Herein is a flask of drink for the
waterless country, and a little meat for the way.  Fare thee well, gossip!
Little did I look for it when I rose up this morning and nothing irked me
save the dullness of our town, and the littleness of men's doings therein,
that I should have to cut off a piece of my life from me this morning, and
say, farewell gossip, as now again I do."

   Therewith she kissed him on either cheek and embraced him; and it might
be said of her and him that she let him go thereafter; for though as
aforesaid he loved her, and praised her kindness, he scarce understood the
eagerness of her love for him; and belike she herself scarce understood it.
Albeit she was a childless woman.

   So when he had got to horse, she watched him riding a moment, and saw
how he waved his hand to her as he turned the corner of the market-place,
and how a knot of lads and lasses stood staring on him after she lost sight
of him.  Then she turned her back into the chamber and laid her head on the
table and wept.

   Then came in the goodman quietly and stood by her and she heeded him
not. He stood grinning curiously on her awhile, and then laid his hand on
her shoulder, and said as she raised her face to him:

   "Sweetheart, it availeth nought; when thou wert young and exceeding
fair, he was but a little babe, and thou wert looking in those days to have
babes of thine own; and then it was too soon: and now that he is such a
beauteous young man, and a king's son withal, and thou art wedded to a
careful carle of no weak heart, and thou thyself art more than a score and
ten years old, it is too late.  Yet thou didst well to give our lord the
money.  Lo!  here is wherewithal to fill up the lack in thy chest; and here
is a toy for thee in place of the pair of beads thou gavest him; and I bid
thee look on it as if I had given him my share of the money and the beads."


   She turned to Clement, and took the bag of money, and the chaplet which
he held out to her, and she said:

   "God wot thou art no ill man, my husband, but would God I had a son like
to him!"

   She still wept somewhat; but the chapman said: "Let it rest there,
sweetheart!  let it rest there!  It may be a year or twain before thou
seest him again: and then belike he shall be come back with some woman whom
he loves better than any other; and who knows but in a way he may deem
himself our son.  Meanwhile thou hast done well, sweetheart, so be glad."

   Therewith he kissed her and went his ways to his merchandize, and she to
the ordering of her house, grieved but not unhappy.

   Then did Ralph go through the wide world.  And many a scape and
adventure did he have, and of perils not a few.  And sought he ever for THE
WELL AT THE WORLD'S END, but howsoever he looked he could not find it, nor
any who knew where it might be, save for one old man who said that he had
heard that it could scarce be found by one looking alone, but that a twain
who were so bedighted as Ralph was, with the beads such as Dame Katherine
had given him, might win through.

   Now there was a land many long leagues from Higham-on-the-Way, hight the
Four Friths, and it was ruled by one who was a mightier man than King
Peter, albeit he was called a baron.  To say sooth he was a close-fist and
a manslayer; though he did his manslaying through his knights and
men-at-arms who held their manors of him, or whom he waged.  Albeit the
land was somewhat nigher to that of the Dry Tree, though none in the land
had been there, and few had heard of the WELL AT THE WORLD'S END.

   In that land, at some distance from the baron's castle, in a small
cottage there dwelt an old man.  Forsooth he was one of the baron's men,
but he was suffered to live so far from his lord's view both because he was
deemed trusty (to wit, as wicked as the baron did desire him to be) and
also for that he was looked upon somewhat askance, as a sorcerer.  Indeed
some small store of spells did he have, though more was it knowledge of
herbs and the natural order of things than true magic, white or black, and
forsooth he was nought but a scoundrel and not much fearsome, for all he
was useful to the baron for what wisdom he had.

   Of late he had not dwelt all alone, for he had with him a young maiden,
a child who had seen nought but nine summers to wit, and she was a
war-taken thrall.  For she had lived all her life in the care of the Abbess
of a town some distance from the Four Friths, yet not far enough seemingly,
for the baron had waged war somewhat afield, seeking wealth he had not yet
seized, and his men had swept the land for captives to chaffer at the
thrall markets, and she had been one of them.

   She had grieved at the time, yet she had been but a small child of seven
or so, and knew nought enow to be as affrighted as she should have been,
and the Abbess had taken pains, and indeed had bribed and entreated the
men-at-arms to play the part, to make a play of handing the child over to
them as it were willingly and something planned, to lessen the terror of
it. And forsooth was the little girl an orphan, and knew nought of her
mother nor father, and was only one of many charges of the Abbess of the
town, and so she went with them willingly enow.  And she did hight Allison.

   Then was she taken to the thrall markets, and the bidding was not so
brisk for her, for all she was fair and slender, for yet withal was she
still small, and little work would any master or mistress get from her for
some time to come, yet she must be fed.  But when the old sorcerer saw her
on the block he took some pains in the chaffering for her, and was willing
to pay much of the red coin and white for her, and some there were who
marveled that he would be so free with his purse for so small a thrall. 
Yet he had seen the chaplet about her neck, and was determined therefore to
have she who bore it.

   For this chaplet was twin to the one given by the Chapman's goodwife to
Ralph, and it was given to the child by the Abbess not long before war had
swept o'er the land.  When she had given them to Allison, she said:

   "Wear these little lass, and mayhap thou shalt have good of them.  For I
wot well that thou shalt have need of all holp that thou mayst have in thy
life.  And mayhap thou shalt e'en win through to the WELL AT THE WORLD'S
END."

   Then did she do them on the child, and the lass asked:

   "What is this WELL, and how may I find it?"

   But the Abbess could tell her little of it, save that it was far and
away from their land, beyond that of the Dry Tree, and belike she might not
find it, search as she would, save that she traveled with one who wore the
same token, and had the help of one who was called the Sage of Swevenham.

   Now the sorcerer did not know of all this, yet he knew enough by his
arts to hold the beads at some value, and had some inkling that 'twere best
not to despoil the little thrall of them outright, but rather to learn more
of them, and perhaps chaffer her to some lord, or the baron himself, who
might gain more profit of her, and thus would the old sorcerer profit much
himself.

   And another use did he intend to make of the little thrall.  Albeit she
might scrub and clean to some small measure for him, in the main he did
purpose to train her so as to make great her value in the eyes of any in
that land who might chaffer for her.

   For this was a land, and the baron a man, much more cruel than Upmeads
and kindly King Peter.  Here was the Red Pillar in use daily, and that for
the slightest of offences, and the Black Pillar also, for any who so
crossed the will of the baron or his lords.  And the sorcerer intended to
train the little girl to endure discipline well beyond that which her years
and small frame would stand in any land of gentility, and be taught to take
pleasure in it, such that even if bound to the Red Pillar and flogged til
she did bleed, that she would moan with passion as well as pain, and the
old man knew many who would give all the more for such a girl-thrall.

   Yet could he not do so all at once, and indeed he was patient, for he
was one who took the long view, knowing that it would take some years
indeed to bring her to such a pass, and still be summat willing, and also
there was the chaplet to consider, and the goodwill of the wearer thereof
so as not to ruin what spell there might be on't.

   And so to such purposes did he bend his will, and near daily did Allison
find herself mother-naked and bound on some pretext by him to what passed
for the White Pillar of his hut, namely the post in the midst of it that
held the roof, and he would ply the strap, or the switch, or his belt to
her thighs, and buttocks, and the strap-end of the instrument oft would
SNAP!  between her legs upon the very girlcleft of her, all unfledged, and
her cries would fill the cottage.  Then would he make as if to soothe her,
and rub her slender body, and oft would his fingers press upon her cleft
and the clitoris thereof, and her moans and sighs would flow forth, though
she did not spend, try as he might.

   But there came a day when he did so discipline the little girl-thrall,
and she bound naked and bare to the Pillar, and the SNAP!  and WHAP!  of
the belt he wielded upon her buttocks could be heard with ease some
distance from his hut, and the door was open, for it was a fair day.  Then
did a young knight come riding slowly down the lane towards the sorcerer's
dwelling, and he did seem weary, and his mount also, and dusty from the
road, and did seek some shelter and provender in a land he knew not.  And
forsooth it was Ralph himself.

   Tied he his destrier to a tree nearby, and he did approach the cottage.
He could not fail to hear the sounds of the little girl's discipline, and
as he drew near, he could see inside the door.  So he beheld little
Allison, and her frame so slender as to be near heartbreaking, and her trim
buttocks reddened fetchingly, and the old man wielding a belt upon her
nakedness.  For all that Ralph could know it was a man with his daughter,
or mayhap his daughter's daughter, and the punishment well-deserved, as for
the breaking of a pottery, or the neglect of the care of some cattle or
other.  Yet there was something about the man and the little girl that told
him that he was one who did not care truly for his charge, and she was one
who was helpless in thrall, and in need of succor.  Then did his wrath
blaze hot within him, for he would not see the great prey upon the lesser,
could he but do ought for it.  But his travels and perils had taught him
some wisdom as well as weariness, and he was in a strange land, and knew
not what lay beyond the next hill.  So he drew back a few paces from the
door of the sorcerer's cottage, and then did feign to have only just
arrived, and to have seen naught, but hailed the house in a loud voice,
inquiring after bread and meat, and drink be it only water, and provender
for his horse.  And the sorcerer, having glanced out of doors, and being
wise enough to perceive that Ralph's raiment and gear were goodly, for all
they were stained and worn, and being mindful as ever of a chance for
profit, though loath to exert his own flesh to gain it, did cease his abuse
of his little thrall, and bid her do on her shift and attend to the knight,
and fetch meat for him and water for him and his steed, and ask
such-and-such in payment.

   This did she, and came out-of-doors and went up to the young man and
gave him what she had for him, and he thanked her, and paid what was asked
and more besides for her own.  And all the while he looked on her and she
on him, and she seemed fair indeed to him, and slender, and like unto an
angel yet in despair, for indeed she was in such a strait as was worthy
of't, though she herself knew not the full measure of it, but was only
beginning, as it were by instinct, to know that she was not treated well,
and her master intended a fate for her both degrading and base.  And she
knew summat more than he of the land about, for some would at whiles come
to the sorcerer's abode, sent by the baron to counsel with him on some
matter or other, and much was spoken that she overheard, and none was to
her liking, being all of plans for plunder, and pillage, and rapine and the
like.

   Then did her heart fear her for the young man's sake and not only for
her own, for it came to her that the sorcerer would beguile him, and send
him to the baron, where he would be taken, and made thrall, or maimed, or
even killed for their sport.  Then did she speak up, yet in voice low for
fear of the sorcerer:

   "Kind lord, I beseech thee, as you love thy life tarry not in this land,
but make haste to leave it forthwith.  For folk here are close-fist and
cruel, or ruled by those who are, and you are not like to escape unscathed,
shouldst thou fall into their clutches, and my master is one of them,
alas!" And she did weep at the thought of the beautiful young knight before
her brought to such ruin.

   Then did Ralph perceive the sweetness of the little maiden-thrall, and
did see as if for the first time the chaplet about her neck, twain to his
own, and his heart did rise within him and he spake:

   "Nay, little maiden, I shall not leave, or at least I shall not leave
alone.  For I cannot depart and you remain in the hands of this miscreant."
And his hand moved to the hilt of his broadsword that swung at his side. 
Yet the girl laid her hand upon his, and restrained him, saying:

   "Do not so, my lord, for though he be old he has some power that I wot
knot it what it may be, but it may be proof 'gainst thy blade, and I would
not have thee suffer harm for my poor sake, but get thee gone as speedily
as thou mayst."

   Ralph replied and said:

   "That will I not do, little one, but let us take counsel: I know not the
swiftest path from this vile one's hut, nor the way out of this accursed
land, but perchance thou dost.  Therefore let us flee together, and at
once!"

   And the little heart of Allison rose within her at the thought that she
might be quit of the old man, and she said:

   "Not at once, for he may have means of pursuit or the summoning thereof.
But make thou shift as if thou wouldst leave and quit this place, but go ye
only over yon hill where there stands a copse of trees in which thou mayst
shelter, for I go there oft with the kine and play with the rabbits and
birds therein, and none come nigh me.  Then when night is fallen I will
steal forth and meet thee there and we may depart as safely as may be."

   To this Ralph assented, and thanked her but roughly and in a loud voice,
and took pains to look to his steed and his saddle and gear summat noisily,
and rode off in a clatter as the little girl looked on and wondered if she
should see him again, yet knew in her heart that he would do for her what
he could.

   That eve did Ralph await her approach and that impatiently, for he
longed to have her safe with him and to be quit of the land.  And he was
minded part to take her as swift as may be back to Upmeads, and perchance
none of his brethren would be minded to return home, and he would be left
to be king, and the little maid would be his thrall, but yea also his
beloved consort and e'en his queen when she was of age.  And part he was
minded to seek again the WELL AT THE WORLD'S END with the little girl for
his thrall and companion, for did she not wear a chaplet twain to his own
And had he not heard that only such a twain could win to it in the end And
thus he occupied his thoughts as he paced in the trees.

   At length the night was drawing on, and dawn indeed was not far off, and
still the maiden had not appeared.  Then did Ralph's concern for her rise
up, and his wrath blaze behind it, and naught would do but that he would
mount his destrier and back to the sorcerer's cottage he did ride, and he
cared not for what the vile old man might do, but only did he fear that he
had done some mischief to the little thrall or worse.  Still had he learned
some caution that he had not completely forgot in his anger, and he did
dismount some space from the hut, and approached it with all the caution of
a seasoned warrior, which forsooth he had become in his travels, and he
paused by the door and listened.

   Then did he hear the SNAP!  of a whip, and the piteous cry of the little
girl, and the sorcerer's voice, cackling:

   "Didst thou think to gull me in mine own house?  Thou art mine, thou
thrall, and mine to do with as I will, and I shall indeed teach thee not to
attempt to flee again!" And SNAP!  and WHAP!  did Ralph hear, and the cry
of the little maiden-thrall, and it was as the old song goes:

   "Then swift he drew, and in a passion flew, and the door he burst
asunder."

   And e'en so did he, and it fell before his wrath, and the old man was
poised in midstroke, and the little girl-thrall bound backwards to the
Pillar, and he had been front-whipping her, for there were the red marks on
her breastbuds and the nips thereof, and the front of her thighs gleaming
in the firelight, and her girlcleft all unfledged framed between her legs
and the clitoris thereof, and her eyes were closed, and her chest did
heave, and the tears did stream down her cheeks, and Ralph's heart went out
to her most surely, but e'en as a wisp of a thought it seemed to him that
in her distress there was mixed some measure of passion also, but forsooth
he paid no mind to it at the time, for he was bent on securing her from the
clutch of her tormenter, and this he did and right speedily, with the point
of his broadsword at the miscreant's throat, while with his dagger he did
cut the bonds that held the little maiden.

   He was minded to slay the sorcerer and be done with it, but it liked him
not to do so in cold blood as it were, and without trial and proper
judgment, which he looked not to find in the land, wicked as the baron and
his men were like to be.  And forsooth hard would be the pursuit for a
manslaying, whereas most would care nought for the loss of a little girl
thrall.  And besides that Ralph wondered if there might not be some curse
the old man might make with his last breath.  And so he withheld him, and
did but bereave the sorcerer of his captive, and threaten him shouldst he
make shift to follow them, or put any on the trail after them, and he took
the little girl up in his arms, mother-naked as she was, and left the hut
forthwith, backing as he went lest some shaft or other should be loosed
against them.  But the old man remained cowering in the dirt, and no mind
had he seemingly to resist Ralph, for indeed he had no bodily courage, and
only guile and what little knowledge he possessed kept him in favor with
the baron, who, while wicked forsooth, did prize a man who showed some
fortitude.

   Then did the young knight place the little girl before him on his
destrier and flung his cloak about her slender naked form to shield her
from the night air, and did fair gallop from the old man's hut and right
glad was he to be shut of it.  For some time through the night did they
ride, cantering and walking in succession, and at whiles Ralph would
dismount and lead his steed with the little girl still in the saddle, and
he would not suffer her to walk also, though she would fain have done so,
thinking it not meet that the thrall shouldst ride and the master walk, and
being all unused to having any show concern for her well-being.

   Then passed they some days in travel, and though their abode was in the
woods or the hills, and their chair the destrier only, and hard indeed was
their livelihood, though Ralph had some skill as a hunter at need, still
was it a time most pleasant to both the little war-taken thrall and the
young knight.  For the little girl it was as if she had suddenly found an
older brother, or e'en her father forsooth, for gentle and kindly was Ralph
always with her, and solicitous for her every need and care, and though she
deemed herself his thrall (for was she not a thrall, and had he not simply
taken her from her master?  So he was now forsooth her new master), he did
not misuse her in any way nor take what advantage he could of her.  As for
Ralph, new purpose in life had he found, where before he had deemed himself
a failure, and of little use save to slink back to Upmeads and to live out
his life in obscurity and drudgery.  And indeed he did look upon the little
maiden and found her sweet indeed, and a part of him did long simply to
care for her in all ways.  And a part of him, and forsooth a part he did
not willingly acknowledge e'en to himself, did lust after her, and would
fain have stripped the cloak from her, and bound her to some tree, and
whipped her all lovingly, and raped her of the maidenhood of her anus and
cleft.  And indeed the whole of him had simply fallen in love with her, and
her heartbreaking slenderness, and the sweet face of her.

   For some days did Ralph take pains to go speedily, yet with all caution,
avoiding all signs of habitation, save once when he did risk visiting a
hovel at which he saw the signs of children and a mother to care for them,
to whit, the hanging of little clothes on a cord outside on a fair day. 
There did he go and knock on the door, leaving Allison and his destrier to
lie hid in some nearby trees, and did chaffer for a shift or twain for the
little girl, and some smallclothes, and a cloak for the night air, and
right glad was the woman of the house to part with them, for of the loom
and sewing could she can right well, yet of gold or silver had she but
little.

   Oft would they lie hid at the height of the day, and travel through much
of the night.  In some copse of trees or brush would they make their abode,
and then Ralph would make shift to take his rest, to keep his strength for
travel.  Then would he bid the little girl to take her ease along side him,
and stray not from his side.

   'Tis true that at the first full willing was she to do so, and scrupled
not to lie e'en in his arms as the day wore away.  But she was a little
lass of nine summers, and it is scarce to be thought that she would content
herself so for long.  Of a time when they were long gone from the Baron's
land, they did sojourn in a thicket on the edge of a pleasant meadow. 
Ralph laid himself down after a long night's journey, and bade the little
thrall rest herself as always.  Yet when he wakened she was not to be seen.
All in a panic did he search the brush where they were hid, calling her
name hoarsely, fearing all the while to attract attention all unwanted from
any passerby.  When he found her not in the thicket, he looked out into the
nearby meadow, and there was the little girl chasing after a butterfly!

   Scarce is a parent so angry as when a child has endangered himself from
his disobedience, and affrighted those who have charge of him, and such
indeed was Ralph's mood as he made his way, with all haste and yet with
many a cautious look 'gainst any who might espy them, to retrieve the
little thrall.

   As he took her arm he gave her a little shake, and said, "Thou art
naught, Allison, quite naught, to do so!  Thou knowst that thou shouldst
have lain all quiet in the woods with me.  What possessed thee to do so? 
Knowst thou not how thou wouldst fare should some wolfshead or reaver come
upon thee, and I unable to come to thine aid?  Knowst thou not how I would
feel to know thou wert in peril?"

   At this did the young girl stand agape for but one moment, and then did
the force of his words impress themselves on her mind, and she flung
herself into his arms, crying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" and wept
fullsore, until truly did Ralph forget his wrath at her carelessness, and
did adjudge her well-chastened, and he did pick her up and carry her back
to their abode.

   Once safely within the confines of the thicket, he set her down, and she
did turn and say again, "I'm sorry, m'Lord," and, turning round, did lift
the hem of her shift above her waist, and her trim buttocks were bared to
the young man's gaze.

   All astonied stood he for a moment, and then did make shift to protest,
and declare that she need not be punished.  In sooth, he did long to whip
her slender body, and have his way with her.  But he cared much for the
little thrall, and knowing how she had been so misused in her few years, he
had not offered to discipline her even lightly and as it were in a playful
fashion, for the pleasure of them both.  Yet she did look round at him with
some surprise, and firmly (and endearingly, if truth be known) did opine
that she must be disciplined as she had been so naught and had hurt him so,
and she would scarce be satisfied until he had chastised her and that not
lightly.  So firmly did she so intone, and so stolidly did she continue to
bare her nakedness to him, that he scarce could maintain his resistance.

   Then did he cut a switch from a sapling near to hand, and did ply it
both sternly and lovingly on the backs of her slender thighs.  Then did the
faint red lines spring to her tender skin, and the soft moans and cries to
her lips.  Upwards did he shift his aim, and across the cheeks of her
buttocks did he lay stripe after stripe, as the whistle of the switch, and
the WHAP!  and SNAP!  of each stroke, mixed mellifluously with the yips and
yelps of the little girl.  At the last did he finish with one stroke that
he brought up directly between her legs, to land full upon her cleftlips
and clitoris, and she did cry out wildly, and he did toss the switch away,
and did pick her up in his arms, and rub her little bottom soothingly, and
whisper in her ear of his love for her, and well was she comforted, and her
tears did stain his cambric.

   Well may it be said that little Allison did strive to obey her master in
all ways from that time hence, but well may it also be said that she did
not always succeed.  And oft would she of her own will proffer to him her
little bottom bared upon which for him to ply the switch, or strop, or the
end of his belt.  Quite blithe was she to do this, and little resistance
did Ralph make to it, and soon with little provocation or none he was like
to lift her hem and spank her with bare hand if there was not time enow for
more complete whipping-cheer, and in sooth the more time did she bare
herself to his discipline and that oft without more than the pretence of an
offence, such as some mock gibing twixt the two, at the which she would
state that she had been impudent truly, and nought would do but that she
should be whipped.  And withal she knew full well that her master cared for
her and that most lovingly, and in now wise would she be hurt but in
seeming only, and sweet would be the caresses she would enjoy at his hands
afterwards.

   Now it is well to be imagined that Ralph felt more and more pressingly
the desire for little Allison's body and the more complete use of it.  Yet
again did he restrain himself because of the love he bore her, and the
slenderness of her frame, and the abuse she had received, yet in sooth
never had the sorcerer disciplined her with his manhood, deeming that the
more would he be able to gain in chaffer for the little thrall if she
retained all her virginities: mouth, anus, and cleft.

   Yet it fell out that once more did Allison disobey her master, and the
little thrall went daisy-picking in a field hard by the woods in which he
slept and trusted her to remain, and he woke suddenly with a sense of peril
at hand, and noted the girl to be gone, and his heart did sink within his
breast.  In a haste went he to the edge of the field, and beheld that which
he feared.  For there was the little thrall, all unawares, and looking upon
her from one side was a man, and he was armed, and Ralph liked not the look
of him, for he did leer upon the little girl, and as Ralph looked on he
strode down the field towards her, yet not without caution, and he made
noise scarce to be heard, and she did not yet perceive his oncoming.  And
as he walked towards her he drew his poniard from his belt, and so Ralph
knew full well he must act and that right speedily, and withal full warrant
did he have to use force majeur and scruple not at it.  So he did take up
his bow, and a fair shot indeed was he known as in Upmeads, and a shaft did
he send both fair and true, and nigh unto Allison's feet did the wolfshead
fall, and his knife still gripped in his hand.

   Then did she perceive the peril from which she so scarcely had been
rescued, and she did see Ralph's approach, and the sorrow and the anger and
the relief all admixed in his countenance, and she did cast her daisies on
the ground and herself after them and did weep full sore.  Then did Ralph
most tenderly pick her up, and her daisies also did he gather, and carried
her back to the woods.

   No sooner had he set her on her feet then she did speak and that most
vehemently, "M'Lord, wilt thou punish me and that most severely, for I have
been so naught!" And her shoulders shook with her weeping e'en as she
reached for the hem of her shift to bare herself to him.

   Yet he stayed her hand for the nonce, and set her upon his knee, and
took his kerchief and dried her tears, and did hold her most tenderly. 
Then did he speak and say, "Dearest little one, it is sooth that thou
shouldst be punished, and that not lightly.  And I have a mind to do so
forthwith.  But I would have thou know this: dear and most dear hast thou
become to me, and I would have thee with me always.  And my desire for thee
has grown, yea it has grown much!  And I can scarce have thee with me
without having thee more.  Dost thou understand, sweetling?"

   Then did she remain downcast, but peeped as it were up at him through
her lashes, saying, "Thou means to rape me in my anus, is that not so,
M'Lord?" And the question seemed to hang as it were in the air between
them, and revolved handsomely.

   Most astonied was he that she would grasp so readily the sense of his
words, and scarce was he able to croak an affirmative reply.  Then even
more amazed was he, for she said, "Even so that is what I would have thou
do, for I have been so very naught, and should be punished in every way
that a master may punish a thrall."

   Then did she stand and face him, and did raise her arms o'er her head,
and awaited him.  But a moment did it take, and then he did perceive her
meaning, and he took her face in his hands, and kissed the lips of her
right sweetly.  Then did he take the hem of her shift and pull it off her
sweet body and cast it aside, and her arms dropped to her sides, and back
he did step to enjoy the sight of her.

   Heartbreakingly slender she was, a lass of but nine summers, with hair
of dusty gold hanging straight and long down her back.  Truly the face like
unto an angel had she, and that seemingly in despair as she awaited her
discipline and the fullness thereof.  Upon her heaving chest her nipples
all erect did crown but mere buds.  Between her gleaming thighs dwelt her
girlcleft, all unfledged, and the clitoris thereof most easily seen, as oft
is found in a little girl's sex.

   Then did Ralph take and bind her frontwards to a tree which possessed
bark neither of the smoothest nor the roughest, and her nipples and cleft
did rub 'gainst it, and she did moan thereat.  Then was there much of the
whipping-cheer, as the switch, and the strop, and his bare hand forsooth
did he bring to bear upon her buttocks and sweet thighs, and her cries did
fill the air.  Then did he turn her round and fasten her backwards, and her
full nakedness was turned towards him, and he did revel much in the sight
of it as she did whimper.  Then did he front-whip her with a will, and the
faint red stripes did spring up on the front of her thighs, and her
breastbuds and the nipples thereof, and her mons and cleftlips and
clitoris. And wildly did she writhe and wildly did she cry out, and most
pleasing a spectacle did she make.  After some while of this did he toss
what implement he wielded aside, and took her full in his hands, kneading
and working her breastbuds and nipples as she gasped, then proceeding to
her cleft, hefting and tracing the puffy cleftlips of her, and the clitoris
thereof, and moist did she become, and short came the breath of her, and
nigh unto spending did she come most assuredly.

   Then did he loose her, and take her in his arms and she still all
mother-naked, and did kiss and caress the sweet little face and body of
her, and much joy did he have to feel the lithe body of the slender nine
year old girl-thrall in his hands.  Then at the last he did take his rod
from his breeches, and rampant did it spring forth, and wide did the little
girl's eyes grow at the sight of it, and transfixed did she seem, like unto
a rabbit at a snake's visage.  Then did he take and smear some spit on his
tool, and turned her round, and pressed the head of it 'gainst her tender
anus which clenched and gaped in turns, and most forcefully did he thrust,
and did drive to the hilt of him so that his scrotum did slap on the
cleftlips of her, and he did rape her of the virginity of her anus, and she
did scream once and that shortly, and then fell to hoarse sobbings.  And he
did remain buried deep within her, and did caress her and whisper to her,
and comfort her so, and soon did her weeping still to a sniffle
occasionally only, and he did fall to raping her anus in earnest, with
thrusts hard and quick and long, and she did feel most fully his manhood
within her, invading and violating the anus and rectum of the little
girl-thrall, and she did perceive that she was his little thrall indeed. 
And he did reach around her and did grasp the cleft and clitoris of her
even as he did pound away inside her, and as he did so stimulate her, the
passion did arise within her little loins, and her clitoris did swell, and
the moistness well up within her, and her hips did move to the rhythm of
her discipline, and the very tenor of her cries did change in pitch, and
her anus did clench so upon his rod that scarce could he restrain himself
from spending.  Yet did he manage to do so just until she did as well, and
she did spend and spend in little-girl orgasm with many a yelp and yipe, as
he did groan out his climax, emptying himself within her, and almost she
thought she could feel his seed fill her, so vigorously did he thrust his
manhood, and grip her hips and cleft, and press her little body to him and
hold her impaled upon him as he ejaculated into her.  Then did he make
shift to turn her, still all impaled upon him, till she did face him, and
he did enfold her in his arms and did rock her, as a father might with his
little child, and comfort her, and she did e'en fall asleep in his arms,
spent as she was, until it was time and past time for them to take once
more to the road, and he did awaken her and carry her to the stream that
was hard by their resting place, and they both did wash themselves as
belike they did much require.

   From that time did Ralph make his mind up that the twain of them
shouldst seek the WELL AT THE WORLD'S END, and much did they speak on't,
and, on learning what she had to tell of what the abbess had said, he
purposed to risk traveling more openly, so that they could inquire of any
they met and especially the travelers thereof if they could tell aught of
the Sage of Swevenham.

   Now it came to pass that they did come to a fair city hight Whitwall. 
There did Ralph make shift to hire him a room, and did place little Allison
within it, and meat and drink withal, and a chamber pot forsooth, and she
to bar the door after he did leave, and open it to none save him or one who
knew the password he did teach her, which was 'Upmeads'.  For he would
wander the streets of the burg and inquire after Swevenham and its
whereabouts, and the sage thereof, and yet little would he have anyone to
know of his business, and he judged that few would take note of one young
knight more or less, but a young knight with a fair young thrall in tow
might be another matter.  Now as Ralph wandered about the town he passed
through the gates on the far side of it, and it came into his mind to see
some little of what lay beyond them.  So in but a few leagues he came to
the stream that bordered the town, and the crossing thereof, and the woods
beyond it.  Now Ralph looks on to the ford and sees folk riding through the
thorp aforesaid and down to the river, and they take the water and are many
in company, some two score by his deeming, and he sees the sun glittering
on their weapons.

   Now he thought that he would abide their coming and see if he might join
their company, and inquire of them what he would, and it was but a little
while ere the head of them came up over the hill, and were presently going
past Ralph, who rose up to look on them, and be seen of them, but they took
little heed of him.  So he sees that though they all bore weapons, they
were not all men-at-arms, nay, not more than a half score, but those proper
men enough.  Of the others, some half-dozen seemed by their attire to be
merchants, and the rest their lads; and withal they had many sumpter horses
and mules with them.  They greeted him not, nor he them, nor did he heed
them much till they were all gone by save three, and then he leapt into the
road with a cry, for who should be riding there but Blaise, his eldest
brother, and Richard the Red his squire with him, both in good case by
seeming; for Blaise was clad in a black coat welted with gold, and rode a
good grey palfrey, and Richard was armed well and knightly.  And Richard
was one whom Ralph had known well in Upmeads and had been not unkind to him
through the years of his upbringing, and much he had taught him of warcraft
before he had gone journeying with Blaise at King Peter's bidding, who
quoth, "Richard, though he be somewhat stricken in years, and wise, yet is
he a fierce carle and a doughty, and knoweth well all feats of arms."

   They knew him at once, and drew rein, and Blaise lighted down from his
horse and cast his arms about Ralph, and said: "O happy day!  when two of
the Upmeads kindred meet thus in an alien land!  But what maketh thee here,
Ralph?  I thought of thee as merry and safe in Upmeads?"

   Ralph said smiling, for his heart leapt up at the sight of his kindred:
"Nay, must I not seek adventures like the rest?  So I took myself away from
father and mother."

   Then up came Richard, and if Blaise were glad, Richard was twice glad,
and quoth he: "Said I not, Lord Blaise, that this chick would be the
hardest of all to keep under the coop?  Welcome to the Highways, Lord
Ralph!"

   "Well," said Blaise, "if thou hast no great errand elsewhere, thou
mightest ride with us, brother.  I have had good hap in these days, though
scarce kingly or knightly, for I have been buying and selling: what matter;
few know Upmeads and its kings to wite me with fouling a fair name. 
Richard, go fetch a horse hither for Lord Ralph's riding, and we will tarry
no longer." So Richard trotted on, and while they abode him, Ralph asked
after his brethren, and Blaise told him that he had seen or heard naught of
them.  Then Ralph asked of whither away, and Blaise told him indeed to
Whitwall, where was much recourse of merchants from many lands, and a noble
market.  And Ralph was glad to hear this, thinking that at such a town he
might well hear tidings concerning the WELL AT THE WORLD'S END.

   Now Ralph mounts, and they all ride away together.  On the way, partly
for brotherhood's sake, partly that he might not be questioned overmuch
himself, Ralph asked Blaise to tell him more of his farings; and Blaise
said, that when he had left Upmeads he had ridden with Richard up and down
and round about, till he came to a rich town which had just been taken in
war, and that the Companions who had conquered it were looking for chapmen
to cheapen their booty, and that he was the first or nearly the first to
come who had will and money to buy, and the Companions, who were eager to
depart, had sold him thieves' penny-worths, so that his share of the
Upmeads' treasure had gone far; and thence he had gone to another good town
where he had the best of markets for his newly cheapened wares, and had
brought more there, such as he deemed handy to sell, and so had gone on
from town to town, and had ever thriven, and had got much wealth: and so at
last having heard tell of Whitwall as better for chaffer than all he had
yet seen, he and other chapmen had armed them, and waged men-at-arms to
defend them, and so tried the adventure of the wildwoods, and come safe
through.

   Then at last came the question to Ralph concerning his adventures, and
he enforced himself to speak, and told all as truly as he might, without
telling of little Allison and their quest.

   Thus they gave and took in talk, and Ralph did what he might to seem
like other folk, that he might pursue his end without hindrance.

   So they rode on, and came to Whitwall before the shutting of the gates
and rode into the street, and forsooth it was a fair and great town, well
defensible, with high and new walls, and men-at-arms good store to garnish
them.  And they bid Ralph to abide with them in the chapmen's guildhall,
but he gainsaid this, saying that he had already waged a room, but would
come and visit with them at whiles and often.  And this he did, day by day,
keeping both close watch on Allison and her well-being, and playing the
sleuth in the streets of Whitwall.  And forsooth much did he labor at it,
and with little fruit, and he wearied of it, and feared that his hope of
seeking the WELL was come to an end, and he did grieve summat.

   Now as is aforesaid Richard was old and wise, and he loved Ralph much,
more belike than Lord Blaise his proper master, whereas he had no mind for
chaffer, or aught pertaining to it: so he took heed of Ralph and saw that
he was seeking summat, for all that he feigned otherwise.  So, of a morning
when all the chapmen were gone about their business, and he and Ralph were
left alone in the Hall, he spake to Ralph and said: "There is something
thou seekest, lord."

   "All seek something or other, do they not" quoth Ralph, and he looked on
Richard with a face that was blank and summat weary, as who should say:
"What is to do now?"

   And forsooth so woe-begone he looked, that Richard, despite his sorrow
and trouble for him, could scarce withhold his laughter.  But he said:
"Lord Ralph, ill it were if the Upmeads kindred came to naught, or even to
little.  Now as for my own master Blaise, he hath, so please you, the
makings of a noble chapman, but not of a noble knight; though he sayeth
that when he is right rich he will cast aside all chaffer; naught of which
he will do.  As for the others, my lord Gregory is no better, or indeed
worse, save that he shall not be rich ever, having no mastery over himself;
while lord Hugh is like to be slain in some empty brawl, unless he come
back speedily to Upmeads."

   "Yea, yea," said Ralph, "what then?  I came not hither to hear thee
missay my mother's sons." But Richard went on: "As for thee, lord Ralph, of
thee I looked for something; but now I cannot tell; for the heart in thee
seemeth to be weary; and thou must look to it lest the body weary also."

   "So be it!" said Ralph.

   Said Richard: "I am old now, but I have been young, and many things have
I seen and suffered, ere I came to Upmeads.  Old am I, and I cannot feel
certain hopes and griefs as a young man can; yet have I bought the
knowledge of them dear enough, and have not forgotten.  Whereby I wot well
that thou fearest that some quest or other thou hast taken in hand is in
vain.  Is it not so?"

   "Yea," quoth Ralph.

   Quoth Richard: "Maybe I may help thee to a hope, though thou mayest
think my words wild.  In the land and the thorp where I was born and bred
there was talk now and again of a thing to be sought, which should cure
sorrow, and make life blossom in the old, and uphold life in the young."

   "Yea," said Ralph, "and what was that and why hast thou never told me
thereof before?"

   "Nay," said Richard, "and why should I tell it to the merry lad I knew
in Upmeads?  But now thou art a man, and hast seen summat of the face of
sorrow, it is meet that thou shouldest hear of THE WELL AT THE WORLD'S
END."

   Ralph sprang to his feet as he said the word, and cried out eagerly:
"Old friend, and where then wert thou bred and born?"

   Richard laughed and said: "See, then, there is yet a deed and a day
betwixt thee and death!  But turn about and look straight over the meadows
in a line with yonder willow-tree, and tell me what thou seest."

   Said Ralph: "The fair plain spreading wide, and a river running through
it, and little hills beyond the water, and blue mountains beyond them, and
snow yet lying on the tops of them, though the year is in young July."

   "Yea," quoth Richard; "and seest thou on the first of the little hills
beyond the river, a great grey tower rising up and houses anigh it?"

   "Yea," said Ralph, "the tower I see, and the houses, for I am
far-sighted; but the houses are small."

   "So it is," said Richard; "now yonder tower is of the Church of
Swevenham, which is under the invocation of the Seven Sleepers of Ephesus;
and the houses are the houses of the little town.  And what has that to do
with me sayest thou: why this, that I was born and bred at Swevenham.  And
indeed I it was who brought my lord Blaise here to Whitwall, with tales of
how good a place it was for chaffer, that I might see the little town and
the great grey tower once more.  Forsooth I lied not, for thy brother is
happy here, whereas he is piling up the coins one upon the other."

   But Ralph was walking to and fro hastily, and he turned to Richard and
said: "Well, well!  but why dost thou not tell me more of the Well at the
World's End?"
Said Richard: "I was going to tell thee somewhat which might be worth
thy noting; or might not be worth it: hearken!  When I dwelt at Swevenham
over yonder, and was but of eighteen winters, who am now of three score and
eight, three folk of our township, two young men and one young woman, set
out thence to seek the said Well: and much lore they had concerning it,
which they had learned of an old man, a nigh kinsman of one of them.  This
ancient carle I had never seen, for he dwelt in the mountains a way off,
and these men were some five years older than I, so that I was a boy when
they were men grown; and such things I heeded not, but rather sport and
play; and above all, I longed for the play of war and battle.  God wot I
have had my bellyful of it since those days!  Howbeit I mind me the setting
forth of these three.  They had a sumpter-ass with them for their
livelihood on the waste; but they went afoot crowned with flowers, and the
pipe and tabour playing before them, and much people brought them on the
way.  By St.  Christopher!  I can see it all as if it were yesterday.  I
was sorry of the departure of the damsel; for though I was a boy I had
loved her, and she had suffered me to kiss her and toy with her; but it was
soon over.  Now I call to mind that they had prayed our priest, Sir
Cyprian, to bless them on their departure, but he naysaid them; for he held
that such a quest came of the inspiration of the devils, and was but a
memory of the customs of the ancient gentiles and heathen.  But as to me, I
deemed it naught, and was sorry that my white-bosomed, sweet-breathed

friend should walk away from me thus into the clouds."

   "What came of it" said Ralph, "did they come back, or any of them?"

   "I wot not," said Richard, "for I was weary of Swevenham after that, so
I girt myself to a sword and laid a spear upon my shoulder and went my ways
to the Castle of the Waste March, sixty miles from Swevenham town, and the
Baron took me in and made me his man: and almost as little profit were in
my telling thee again of my deeds there, as there was in my doing them: but
the grey tower of Swevenham I have never seen again till this hour."

   Said Ralph: "Now then it behoveth me to go to Swevenham straightway:
wilt thou come with me it seemeth to be but some four miles hence."

   Richard held his peace and knit his brows as if pondering the matter,
and Ralph abided till he spake: so he said: "Foster-son, so to call thee,
thou knowest the manner of up-country carles, that tales flow forth from
them the better if they come without over much digging and hoeing of the
ground; that is, without questioning; so meseems better it will be if I go
to Swevenham alone, and better if I be asked to go, than if I go of myself.
Now to-morrow is Saturday, and high market in Whitwall; and I am not so old
but that it is likeliest that there will be some of my fellows alive and on
their legs in Swevenham: and if such there be, there will be one at the
least in the market to-morrow, and I will be there to find him out: and
then it will go hard if he bring me not to Swevenham as a well-beloved
guest; and when I am there, and telling my tidings, and asking them of
theirs, if there be any tales concerning the Well at the World's End
working in their bellies, then shall I be the midwife to bring them to
birth.  Ha.  Will it do?"

   "Yea," said Ralph, "but how long wilt thou be?"

   Said Richard: "I shall come back speedily if I find the land barren; but
if the field be in ear I shall tarry to harvest it.  So keep thou thy soul
in patience."

   "And what shall I do now?" said Ralph.

   "Wear away the hours," said Richard.  "And to begin with, come back
within the gates with me and let us go look at thy brother's booth in the
market-place: it is the nethermost of a goodly house which he is minded to
dwell in; and he will marry his thrall, who is a well-knit lass gi'en him
as a gift of the masters of the town, and is of no mean family herself, and
sit down in Whitwall, so well he seemeth like to thrive; for they have
already bidden him to the freedom of the city, and to a brother of the
Faring-Knights, whereas he is not only a stirring man, but of good lineage
also: for now he hideth not that he is of the Upmeads kindred."
So did Ralph tarry in Whitwall, and wiled away the hours with his little
girl thrall, and the most trouble he had was to keep her somewhat hid, for
he had no mind to be questioned about her or his errand, by his brother or
ought else.  Much pleasure they had indeed of each other's company, and
more and more charming did he find her to be with the sweetness of a little
girl, tempered by the sorrow she had been through, but now blossoming as
she found herself so well-cared for, and she looked to Ralph as her father
e'en more than her master, and was like to crawl up on his lap before the
fire of an evening, and list to a story, mayhap of St George and the
dragon, or some other well-loved tale, as any child might sit in her
beloved parent's lap before bedtime, forsooth.  And oft would he strip her,
and she nothing loth, and tip her over his knee, and spank her bottom, or
take the strop to her thighs, or cut a switch and ply it upon her
breastbuds and the nipples thereof, and did not withhold discipline even to
her cleft all unfledged, and her clitoris, and much did he and she have of
the clipping and kissing mingled with each stroke, and the cries she did
cry were as much of passion as they were from the sting, or e'en more, for
verily was he gentle withal, and left naught of a mark more than the faint
red line that faded speedily, and many was the time that he did bring her
to the sweet and precious orgasm of a little girl using naught but strop
and switch, and the only pains they had were to muffle the sound of it so

that it did not carry o'er the whole town.

   Old Richard was no worse than his word, and failed not to find old
acquaintance of Swevenham in the Saturday's market: and Ralph saw naught of
him till midweek afterwards.  Now Ralph was reading in a book when Richard
found him, but he stood up and greeted him; and Richard said smiling: "What
have ye found in the book, lord?"

   Said Ralph: "It telleth of the deeds of Alexander."

   "Is there aught concerning the Well at the World's End therein?" said
Richard.

   "I have not found aught thereof as yet," said Ralph; "but the book tells
concerning the Dry Tree, and of kings sitting in their chairs in the
mountains nearby."

   "Well then," said Richard, "maybe thou wilt think me the better
tale-teller."

   "Tell on then," quoth Ralph.  So they went and sat them down in a
window, and Richard said:

   "When I came to Swevenham the folk made much of me, and made me good
cheer, whereof were over long to tell thee; but to speak shortly, I drew
the talk round to the matter that we would wot of: for we spake of the Men
of the Dry Tree, and an old man began to say that this name of theirs was
but a token and an armoury which those champions have taken from the Tree
itself, which Alexander the Champion saw in his wayfarings; and he said
that this tree was on the hither side of the mountains called the Wall of
the World, and no great way from the town of Goldburg.  Then another and an
older man, one that I remember a stout carle ere I left Swevenham, said
that this was not so, but that the Tree was on the further side of the Wall
of the World, and that he who could lay his hand on the bole thereof was
like enough to drink of the Well at the World's End.

   "But there was a carline sitting in the ingle, and she knew me and I
her. And indeed in days past, when I was restless and longing to depart,
she might have held me at Swevenham, for she was one of the friends that I
loved there: a word and a kiss had done it, or maybe the kiss without the
word: but if I had the word, I had not the kiss of her.  Well, when the
talk began to fall, she spake and said to me:
"'Now it is somewhat strange that the talk must needs fall on this
seeking of that which shall not be found, whereas it was but the month
before thou wert last at Swevenham, that Wat Miller and Simon Bowyer set
off to seek the Well at the World's End, and took with them Alice of
Queenhough, whom Simon loved as well as might be, and Wat somewhat more
than well.  Mindest thou not?  There are more than I alive that remember

it.'

   "'Yea,' said I, 'I remember it well.'

   "For indeed, foster-son, these were the very three of whom I told thee,
though I told thee not their names.

   "'Well,' said I; 'how sped they?  Came they back, or any of them?'

   'Nay,' she said, 'that were scarce to be looked for.' Said I:

   'Have any other to thy knowledge gone on this said quest?'

   "'Yea,' she said, 'I will tell thee all about it, and then there will be
an end of the story, for none knoweth better thereof than I.  First there
was that old man, the wizard, to whom folk from Swevenham and other places
about were used to seek for his lore in hidden matters; and some months
after those three had departed, folk who went to his abode amongst the
mountains found him not; and soon the word was about that he also, for as
feeble as he was, had gone to seek the Well at the World's End; though
may-happen it was not so; and now the word runs that he dwelleth far from
here, e'en past Goldburg and Utterbol.  Then the next spring after thy
departure, Richard, comes home Arnold Wright from the wars, and asks after
Alice; and when he heard what had befallen, he takes a scrip with a little
meat for the road, lays his spear on his shoulder, and is gone seeking the
lost, and the thing which they found not--that, I deem, was the end of him.
Again the year after that, as I deem, three of our carles fell in with two
knights riding east from Whitwall, and were questioned of them concerning
the road to the said Well, and doubted not but that they were on that
quest.

   "She said: 'Hearken yet!  Twenty years agone a great sickness lay heavy
upon us and the folk of Whitwall, and when it was at its worst, five of our
young men, calling to mind all the tales concerning the Well at the World's
End, went their ways to seek it, and swore that back would they never, save
they found it and could bear its water to the folk of Swevenham; and I
suppose they kept their oath; for we saw naught either of the water or of
them.  And this is not to be wondered at, for that old man or wizard once
said, and more than I heard him, that none could win to the Well, save that
they bore a token about their neck, and mayhap only if a twain of folk both
bearing this token journeyed together to seek it.  Well, I deem that this
is the last that I have to tell thee, Richard, concerning this matter: and
now is come the time for thee to tell tales of thyself.'

   "Thus for that time dropped the talk of the Well at the World's End,
Lord Ralph, and of the way thither.

   "So I deemed there would be little else to hear in Swevenham for this
bout; and at least I heard no more tales to tell till I came away this
morning; so there is my poke turned inside out for thee.  But this word
further would I say to thee, that I have seen on thy neck also a pair of
beads exceeding goodly.  Tell me now whence came they."

   "From my gossip, dame Katherine," said Ralph; "and it seems to me now,
though at the time I heeded the gift little save for its kindness, that she
thought something great might go with it."

   "Well," said Richard, "that may well come to pass, that it shall lead
thee to the Well at the World's End.  But as to the tales of Swevenham,
what deemest thou of them?"

   Said Ralph: "What are they, save a token that folk believe that there is
such a thing on earth as the Well?  Yet I have made up my mind already that
I would so do as if I trowed in it."

   Now Ralph purposed in his heart to leave, and that as quickly as may be,
to seek the old man from Swevenham, whom he doubted not was verily the Sage
of Swevenham of whom the Abbess had told little Allison, and continue the
quest for the WELL AT THE WORLD'S END, and abandon it not.  So he bade
farewell to Richard, and prayed that he would not tell Blaise of his
leaving beforehand, forasmuch as he feared that he would be hindered
thereby, after the manner of older brothers who find their father's younger
son pursuing as it were 'fool's gold'.  And this Richard agreed to, albeit
reluctantly.

   And Ralph inquired of Richard about the way to Goldburg, and Utterbol,
and Richard sighed, and quoth:

   "Lord Ralph, thou shalt know that this good town of Whitwall that soon
lieth behind thee is the last of the lands thee shall come to wherein folk
can any courtesy, or are ruled by the customs of the manor, or by due
lawful Earls and Kings, or the laws of the Lineage or the Port, or have any
Guilds for their guiding, and helping.  And though these folks whereunto
thee shall come, are, some of them, Christian men by name, and have amongst
them priests and religious; yet are they wild men of manners, and many
heathen customs abide amongst them; as swearing on the altars of devils,
and eating horse-flesh at the High-tides, and spell-raising more than
enough, and such like things, even to the reddening of the doom-rings with
the blood of men and of women, yea, and of babes: from such things their
priests cannot withhold them.  As for their towns that thee shall come to,
I say not but thee shall find crafts amongst them, and worthy good men
therein, but they have little might against the tyrants who reign over the
towns, and who are of no great kindred, nor of blood better than other
folk, but merely masterful and wise men who have gained their place by
cunning and the high hand.  Thou shalt see castles and fair strong-houses
about the country-side, but the great men who dwell therein are not the
natural kindly lords of the land yielding service to Earls, Dukes, and
Kings, and having under them vavassors and villeins, men of the manor; but
their tillers and shepherds and workmen and servants be mere thralls, whom
they may sell at any market, like their horses or oxen.  Forsooth these
great men have with them for the more part free men waged for their
service, who will not hold their hands from aught that their master
biddeth, not staying to ask if it be lawful or unlawful.  And that the more
because whoso is a free man there, house and head must he hold on the
tenure of bow and sword, and his life is like to be short if he hath not
sworn himself to the service of some tyrant of a castle or a town."

   So Ralph gathered Allison and their gear early the next morning, and
went to the gate of the city.  Richard met them there to say farewell.  And
Ralph cast his arms about Richard, and kissed him and said:

   "This is also a farewell to the House where I was born and bred." And as
he spake the thought of the House and the garden, and the pleasant fields
of Upmeads came into his heart so bitter-sweet, that it mingled with his
eagerness for the quest, and well-nigh made him weep.  But as for Richard
he forebore words, for he was sad at heart for the sundering.

   Long and hard indeed was the road for Ralph and Allison, and many a
scrape and adventure they had, yet indeed it seemed to the twain that great
assurance was theirs that they would win through, and hope welled up in
both their hearts.  And much pleasure also did Ralph have of little
Allison's body on the way, and oft would he strip her of her shift, and run
his hands up and down her slender lithe form, and pinch and twist her
breastbuds and the nipples thereof, that scarcely broke the plane of her
chest, and then seize the center of her, even her girlcleft, and hold and
heft it, as her breath came short and her knees weakened, and the moistness
sprang all unbidden to her nether lips, and he would spank her with his
bare hand full upon her mons and vulva and the clitoris thereof, and many
and many was the punishment-orgasm he would force her to, as her little
cries filled the air.

   With some difficulty did they make their way past Goldburg and Utterbol,
and indeed they must needs lie hid during the day, and traveled more in the
twilight, for fear of being espied by the folk of the land, and being
overwhelmed by numbers, whereas Ralph was well able to deal with any one or
even twain that would make to hinder them, yet the mightiest man may be
slain by one arrow.

   There came an evening when they made their camp in some woods nigh a
stream, well past Utterbol, and Ralph had an inkling that they were near
unto the dwelling of the Sage, and he looked to find him in the next day or
two.  And they lay them down to sleep, and kept no watch, for they and
Ralph's steed were well hid in a thicket.

   Now Ralph awoke when he did not expect to, and sat up and saw Allison
still sleeping; then he rose to his feet and looked about him, and saw his
horse cropping the grass under the bent, and beside it a man, tall and
white bearded, leaning on his staff.  Ralph caught up his sword and went
toward the man, and the sun gleamed from the blade just as the hoary-one
turned to him; he lifted up his staff as if in greeting to Ralph, and came
toward him, and even therewith Allison awoke and arose, and saw the
greybeard at once; and she cried out: "Take heed to thy sword, master, for,
praised be the saints, this is the Sage of Swevenham!"

   So they stood there together till the Sage came up to them and kissed
them both, and said: "I am glad that ye are come at last; for I looked for
you no later than this.  So now mount your horse and come with me
straightway; because life is short to them who have not yet drunk of the
Well at the World's End."

   Ralph saw of him that though he was an old hoar man to look on, yet he
was strong and sturdy, tall, and of goodly presence, with ruddy cheeks, and
red lips and bright eyes, and that the skin of his face and hands was
nowise wrinkled: but about his neck was a pair of beads like unto his own
gossip's gift.

   So now they mounted at once, and with no more words he led them about
the bent, and they came in a little while into the wood again, but this
time it was of beech, with here and there an open place sprinkled about
with hollies and thorns; and they rode down the wide slope of a long hill,
and up again on the other side.

   Thus they went for an hour, and the elder spake not again, though it
might have been deemed by his eyes that he was eager and fain.  They also
held their peace; for the hope and fear of their hearts kept them from
words.

   They came to the hill-top, and found a plain land, though the close wood
still held on a while; but soon they rode into a clearing of some twelve
acres, where were fenced crofts with goats therein, and three garths of
tillage, wherein the wheat-shocks were yet standing, and there were
coleworts and other pot-herbs also.  But at the further end, whereas the
wood closed in again, was a little house builded of timber, strong and
goodly, and thatched with wheat-straw; and beside it was a bubbling spring
which ran in a brook athwart the said clearing; over the house-door was a
carven rood, and a bow and short spear were leaned against the wall of the
porch.

   Therewith he brought them into the house, and into a chamber, the
plenishing whereof was both scanty and rude.  There he bade them sit, and
brought them victual, to wit, cheese and goats' milk and bread, and they
fell to speech concerning the woodland ways, and the seasons, and other
unweighty matters.  But as for the old man he spoke but few words, and as
one unused to speech, albeit he was courteous and debonair.  But when they
had eaten and drunk he spake to them and said:

   "Ye have sought to me because ye would find the Well at the World's End,
and would have lore of me concerning the road thereto; abide a little,
therefore."

   Then he went unto an ark, and took thence a book wrapped in a piece of
precious web of silk and gold, and bound in cuir-bouilly wrought in strange
devices.  Then said he:

   "This book was mine heritage at Swevenham or ever I became wise, and it
came from my father's grandsire: and my father bade me look on it as the
dearest of possessions; but I heeded it naught till my youth had waned, and
my manhood was full of weariness and grief.  Then I turned to it, and read
in it, and became wise, and the folk sought to me, and afterwards that
befell which was foredoomed.  Now herein amongst other matters is written
of that which ye desire to know, and I will read the same to you and
expound it.  Yet were it not well to read in this book under a roof, nay,
though it be as humble and innocent as this."

   So the Sage led them through the wood till they came to a grassy lawn
amidst of which was a table of stone, and said,

   "Fear not, and sit ye down on the grass, and I will lay the book on this
most ancient table, and read in it, and do ye hearken heedfully."

   What he read shall for the more part thereof had but to do with the way
to the Well at the World's End, all things concerning which were told out
fully, both great and small.  Long was this a-reading, and the knight and
his little girl-thrall must needs spend many and many a day with the Sage.

   Now was winter nigh, and 'twere ill to fare in the wild, and Ralph
pondered in his heart what to do, for they were drawing nigh to learning
all that they must know to wend their way to the WELL, and yet he liketh
not the notion of taking his precious little girl into unknown lands in the
cold and snow.  And of a day when he did worrit much on such things, the
Sage sayeth unto them,

   "Wilt thou twain not abide yet with me through the winter ere you travel
on?  For it will be lonesome when thou art gone, and verily wilt thou fare
better in the Spring.  And I am well-provisioned for the winter, for I have
already done the in-gathering of the chestnut harvest, and dried them, and
made them into meal; and of walnuts I have gathered also.  And of venison
there is not a little in the forests about." And they delighted at his
words and verily did agree to stay with him.

   Withal they hunted the deer, both great and small; amongst which Ralph,
not without some peril, slew two great bears, of which beasts, indeed,
there was somewhat more than enough, as they came nigh the Sage's
dwelling-place to feed upon the nuts and the berry-trees.  So they soon had
good store of peltries for their beds and their winter raiment, which
Allison fell to work on, for she knew the rudiments of the craft of
needlework and was deft of hand; and, shortly to tell it, they had enough
and to spare of victual and raiment.

   Blithe and loving withal was the Sage to the twain, and fain was he at
their company.  Much did he have to tell of tales of old, and much did
little Allison love to sit at his feet or e'en on his lap to hear them. 
And he was liken unto a grandfather to her, and a father to Ralph, and
pleasant and merry was their time together, and the girl did call the Sage
'Grandpapa' and it did please him well.

   Now when the Sage had been teaching them of their road, he bade now one,
now the other answer him questions as to what he had read; and it is not to
be wondered at that they might answer amiss at one part or another, and
Allison the more than Ralph, for indeed she was but a child, and did weary
at long lessons and did long to run and romp in the fields and paddle her
feet in the brooks.  Yet did the men know that she must needs learn the way
and that right well, for fear that some mishap would befall Ralph, and she
would have to wend on her lonesome for some part.

   At the first Ralph was reluctant to discipline little Allison as had
been his wont, for he knowest not how it would fare with the Sage should he
do so.  But the Sage was wise, and could tell how it was between the man
and the little girl, and of a time when Allison had been remiss in her
lessons and daydreaming belike, he did rise and say:

   "Master Ralph, I fear that this youngling is in need of such discipline
as a master might mete to his thrall or a father his daughter.  Wilt thou
not deliver it?  Or how else will she learn the road that thou must tread?"
And he did draw off his belt a supple leathern tawse and did hand it to
Ralph.

   Then did Allison (nothing loth withal, for she had much missed her
master's hand upon her these days since they had come to the Sage) turn
about, and lift the hem of her shift, and present her buttocks bared to
Ralph, and he did ply the tawse upon them, SNAP-WHAP-WHACK!  And the little
girl's cries did fill the air, "AAA!  OOOH!  OH, MASTER PLEASE!" as he did
discipline her until her bottom was reddened and that most fetchingly. 
Then did he hand the ancient tool back to the Sage, and did gather his
little thrall in and kiss her most lovingly, and caress and soothe her
bottom, and she did sigh, and found much comfort in his arms.

   From that time on there was much of the whipping-cheer for the little
girl, and seldom did the day go by wherein Ralph or the Sage did not find
some fault with which to justify punishing her, yet withal most lovingly,
and she was bound to the White Pillar of the Sage's cottage, to wit it's
central pillar.  And Ralph did perceive that the Sage did delight to see
the bare bottom of the little girl bouncing and reddening under the strokes
of tawse, or crop, or switch, and to hear her little cries from the sting
and passion thereof.  Yet no further than whipping or spanking her bottom
did he take her discipline at that time.

   Then of a time when Allison was due for discipline and to be bound unto
the White Pillar did Ralph speak unto the Sage, saying:

   "Now, dear master, for so shall I call thee, who is master of his house,
and master indeed of the way to the WELL, wilt thou not take in hand and
punish this child whom I perceive that thou lovest near as well as I?"

   Then did the Sage answer and say:

   "Yeah and with a good will, lord, and to my thinking it would be well
that she were bound all mother-naked to the Pillar.  What sayst thou?" And
Ralph agreed and that most readily.

   So the men did take little Allison and strip her, and she did blush most
prettily to know that the twain of grown men could see all her charms and
intimacies.  And they did bind her to the White Pillar, and the Sage did
ply the tawse upon her, WHAP-WHAP-WHAP!  And little Allison did moan and
cry out, "OOH-OOH-OOH!" and her little buttocks did jig and dance at each
stroke, and did redden lightly under the whipping-cheer.

   Then did Ralph and the Sage loose her but only to bind her again, now
backwards against the Pillar, and her nakedness was fully revealed to them,
such as her nipples all erect atop mere buds, which brake only barely the
plane of her chest, which heaved with passion beneath them; and her slender
thighs gleaming in the firelight, and her sweet cleft all unfledged framed
between them with puffy lips, and the clitoris thereof displayed most
prominently.

   Then did the Sage commence to frontwhip her, and that summat sharply,
and the faint red lines did spring to her nipples and breastbuds, and the
front of her thighs, and yea even unto her mons and cleftlips, so shrewdly
did he bring the tool to bear upon her nakedness, and she did cry out
wildly, and writhe most prettily, at his ministrations.

   And when he was done forsooth there was much of the clipping and the
kissing, and the caressing and the soothing, twixt the men and the little
girl, and Ralph did e'en rub her on her cleftlips and clitoris, and the
breath came short to her lips, and her hips bucked all unwillingly, and in
no great time she was climaxing indeed, and fain were Ralph and the Sage to
see such a pretty little girl-thrall of nine summers do so.

   Then from that time did Ralph and the Sage take it as it were in turns
to discipline the little girl, and scarce was the day in which she was not
bound to the Pillar, and whipped and caressed to punishment-orgasm, though
they took great pains to protect her and welt her not, and indeed she was
nothing loth at such treatment as they gave her; forsooth they did perceive
that she would perform some small mischief or other purposefully to earn
her whipping-cheer and Pillar-time.  And so did the days pass most lovingly
and pleasurably, though forsooth there was some frustration for the men,
who must needs satisfy themselves when alone, for Ralph forebore him to
rape little Allison's anus whilst they dwelt with the Sage, out of courtesy
to him.

   At last the winter drew to a close, and the time for tarrying was near
through.  And little Allison indeed had grown so fond of the Sage that she
did near weep to think of leaving him.  Moreso did she also bethink her of
some gift that she could give to him, for so kind and loving had he been to
them, and so many pains on their behalf had he taken.  Of a day she spoke
to her master of this, and she did suggest to Ralph summat that they could
both give to the dear old man.

   That very day did Ralph take and bind little Allison to the White
Pillar, and he and the Sage did both discipline her as they had all winter,
and her cries from the sting and the passion did fill the cottage, and her
little body did writhe most fetchingly as the faint red lines did spring up
on buttocks and thighs, breastbuds and nipples, mons and unfledged
cleftlips and the clitoris thereof, yeah and even her anus most tender and
delicate, that winked and gaped in turn as she was bent over a stool and it
was bared to the whip.

   Then did Ralph look unto the Sage and say:

   "Most loving friend, I perceive that my little thrall has aught that she
would give thee, and I am most fain for you to receive it."

   Then quote Allison:

   "Even so, dear 'Grandpapa', for we must needs leave you and that right
soon, and I wouldst that thou should discipline me as the master of this
house, for I have been naught, and well do I deserve to feel thy manhood
violating the anus of me." Then did the brave little girl shut her eyes and
make a face as she awaited the denouement of her discipline.  And Ralph
said unto the Sage:

   "Fear not to so take her, my friend; for earlier today she has been
well-cleansed with the sheep's bladder and a carven nozzle.  And thou shalt
do her no harm, I know, for all thou art so loving and careful for her, and
she has felt my tool in her besides, and her anus is no longer virgin,
though wondrous tight it is still."

   Then was the Sage most pleased, and he did spend no little time in
caressing the little thrall most gently and tenderly, and blithe were they
with each other, and Ralph looking on nothing loth, for much did he love
the twain.  And the Sage did then finally open his breeches, and his
manhood sprang forth, and forsooth twas no mean thing, and if it was
shorter than Ralph's, it was greater in girth.  And he did spit upon it,
and press the head of himself against her trembling nether opening, and did
thrust within her, and she did shout, "AAAAA!" to feel herself so violated,
and his manhood deep within her, disciplining her so sternly.  And he did
take her in this way with thrusts both hard and long for some time, having
relieved himself betimes, and no longer ago than that morn.  And tight
indeed did he find her to be, and soft, and warm, and the pleasure of
raping the anus of a little nine-year-old girl-thrall was intense beyond
his imaginings.  And she did moan hoarsely with each thrust, and Ralph did
reach under her and seize her cleftlips and the clitoris thereof and did
knead and work them, and soon she was forced to climax and the orgasm of
punishment as she near screamed in release.  Then did the men loose her and
sweep her into their arms in turn, and much there was of the clipping and
the kissing, and the caressing and the soothing, and her tears stained the
cambric of their tunics, yet she did smile shyly upon them both.

   By this time, when he asked any question Ralph or the maiden answered it
rightly and at once, and finally of a day the Sage said:

   "To-morrow I shall give you your last lesson from this book, and
thereafter ye shall go your ways to the Rock of the Fighting Man, and from
thence to THE WELL AT THE WORLD'S END."

   When it was morning they went again to the ancient altar, and again they
learned lore from the Elder, till they were waxen wise in the matters of
the Well at the World's End, and long they sat and hearkened him till it
was evening again, and once more they slept in the house of the Sage of
Swevenham.

   On the morn it was time for them to take their leave of the Sage, and
sorrowful indeed was their parting, yet full of joy withal at the thought
that they might return having drunk from the WELL and see the dear old man
again.  And when they were bedight for the journey and mounted on Ralph's
destrier he led them over a ridge and through a vale and to the ridge
beyond, and they espied hills and peaks plain to see before them.  But
clear as was the fashion of the mountains, they were yet a long way off:
for betwixt them and the ridge whereon those fellows stood, stretched a
vast plain, houseless and treeless, and, as they beheld it thence grey and
ungrassed (though indeed it was not wholly so)like a huge river or firth of
the sea it seemed, and such indeed it had been once, to wit a flood of
molten rock in the old days when the earth was a-burning.

   Now as they stood and beheld it, the Sage spake: "Lo ye, my children,
the castle and its outwork, and its dyke that wardeth the land of the Well
at the World's End.  Now from to-morrow, ye enter into the great sea of the
rock molten in the ancient earth-fires, and amidst that sea should ye
perish belike, were it not for the wisdom gathered by a few; and they are
dead now save for the Book, and for me, who read it unto you.  Now ye would
not turn back were I to bid you, and I will not bid you.  Yet since the
journey shall be yet with grievous toil and much peril, and shall try the
very hearts within you, were ye as wise as Solomon and as mighty as
Alexander, I will say this much unto you; that if ye love not the earth and
the world with all your souls, and will not strive all ye may to be frank
and happy therein, your toil and peril aforesaid shall win you no blessing
but a curse.  Therefore I bid you be no tyrants or builders of cities for
merchants and usurers and warriors and thralls, like the fool who builded
Goldburg to be for a tomb to him: or like the thrall-masters of the Burg of
the Four Friths.  But rather I bid you to live in peace and patience
without fear or hatred, and to succour the oppressed and love the lovely,
and to be the friends of men, so that when ye are dead at last, men may say
of you, they brought down Heaven to the Earth for a little while.  What say
ye, children?"

   Then said Ralph: "Father, I will say the sooth about mine intent, though
ye may deem it little-minded.  When I have accomplished this quest, I would
get me home again to the little land of Upmeads, to see my father and my
mother, and to guard its meadows from waste and its houses from
fire-raising: to hold war aloof and walk in free fields, and see my
children growing up about me, and lie at last beside my fathers in the
choir of St.  Laurence.  The dead would I love and remember; the living
would I love and cherish; and Earth shall be the well beloved house of my
Fathers, and Heaven the highest hall thereof."
"It is well," said the Sage, "Ye shall have no shame in your lives and

no fear in your deaths.  Wherefore now lieth the road free before you."

   Then Ralph spake and said:

   "One thing more would I ask thee, master, before we leave.  It is in my
mind to marry Allison and make her my wife as well as my little thrall, and
she also desireth me, and I wish that thou shouldst tell us if our wedding
and the knowing each other carnally shall be to our hurt in the Quest; for
if that be so, then shall I bridle my desires and perform the Quest in
their despite."

   The old man smiled upon them kindly, and said: "Nay, son, it shall be
none the worse for you in any wise that ye shall become one flesh; and
right joyful it is to me that there is such love as I perceive there is
betwixt the twain of you.

   "But know this, thou knight, and you also, little girl-thrall, that when
a child drinketh of the WELL, then shall he or she be as a child in body,
and summat as well in mind, for many and many a year thereafter.  And many
a life of men will it be ere you appear e'en as a maiden of fifteen
summers, dearest one, an ye drink of the WELL when th'art a child of nine.
Yet strange and more strange are the workings of the WELL on a girl-child.
For though thou wilt appear as a child for so long, yet wilt thou be ripe
for the bearing of a child in but a few years, and nought of the ills that
so beset those who are with child are like to plague thee, thou thy hips
will still be slender.

   "And one thing more thou must know: If the twain of you do not
consummate thy marriage before thou drinkest, and then thou knight liest
with her and take her maidenhead, yet will it grow back e'en night by
night, so that each time thou takest her thereafter it will be as if 'twere
the first time, and that for many a year, until she is indeed grown to her
full.  And I will not hide it from thee, little maiden, that the taking of
thy maidenhead will be a punishment to thee the first time, and belike many
times thereafter.  But I deem that it will be less so with time, and will
soon be as the sting of the tawse or crop or switch is to thee when thy
master wieldeth it with love: as much or more of passion to thy flesh than
it is of pain.

   "So now, what sayest thee Wilt thou be married and consummate it before,
or after you drinkest of the WEL?L" And the question hung as it were
suspended in the air twixt the knight and his war-taken thrall, spinning
slowly, and they did look one upon the other, and Ralph forebore to answer,
willing that Allison shouldst decide this matter.  And at last she spoke,
and said:

   "Naught am I, and but a little girl who must needs be punished at
whiles. And well do I wish for the manhood of my master to discipline me to
the fullest.  Therefore I would that we wait until we have drunk.  But I
will do as my master willeth."

   But Ralph did sweep the youngling into his arms and did kiss and caress
her, and much love there was between them for that time.  Then spake Ralph:

   "It is my will that we be wed, and that right speedily, yet will we
await the consummation thereof 'til our Quest be complete.  Therefore wilt
thou, dear friend and teacher, be priest for us?" And nothing loth was the
Sage to do so, and straightaway he did lead them through the vows, and
master and little girl-thrall were wed, with the sun and the trees to
witness.

   When all was complete the Sage spoke unto those twain and said: "Here
then is the end of my journey with you; and ye wot all that I can tell you,
and I can say no word more save to bid you cast all fear aside and thrive.
Ye have yet for this day's journey several more hours of daylight;
therefore redeem ye the time."

   Then did Ralph and Allison both kiss and embrace the old man, for their
hearts were full and fain.  But he drew himself away from them, and turned
about with no word more, and went his ways, and presently was hidden from
their eyes by the ridge of rocks.  Then the twain mounted their horses
again and set forth silently on the road, as they had been bidden.

   Long and weary was their road, and of peril no little, yet so
well-schooled were they by the Sage, and withal Ralph a belted knight of no
mean skill, they did win through each turn of the Quest and found what
landmarks there were set for them as outlined in the Book which had been
read to them.

   There came a day when they reached a vale that was sunny and pleasant,
with plenty of deer both great and small, and woods and streams and
meadows, and Ralph purposed that they would abide there for a few days, for
they were weary, and their provisions were low for both man and beast.

   Now it befell on a fair sunny morning two days hence, that Ralph sat
alone on a toft by a rock-house in which they had made camp, for Allison
had gone down the meadow to disport her and to bathe in the river which was
hard by.  Ralph was fitting the blade of a dagger to a long ashen shaft, to
make him a strong spear; for the day before they had come across a family
of bears in the sandy bight under the mountains; to wit a carle, and a
quean with her cubs; the beasts had seen them but afar off, and whereas the
sun shone back from Ralph's weapons, they had forborne them; although they
were fierce and proud in those wastes, and could not away with creatures
that were not of their kind.  So because of this Ralph had bidden Allison
not to fare far abroad.

   He bethought him of this just as he had made an end of his
spear-shaping, so therewith he looked around and saw not his little
girl-thrall and wife in the meadow, nor heard her plashing in the river. 
Fear came into his heart therewith, so he arose and strode down over the
meadow hastily bearing his new spear, and girt with his sword.

   Sure enough as he came under the trees near the river he heard a shrill
cry, and knew that it could be naught save Allison; so he ran thitherward
whence came the cry, shouting as he ran, and was scarce come out of the
trees ere he saw Allison indeed, mother-naked, held in chase by a huge bear
as big as a bullock: he shouted again and ran the faster; but even
therewith, whether she heard and saw him, and hoped for timely help, or
whether she felt her legs failing her, she turned on the bear, and Ralph
saw that she had a little axe in her hand wherewith she smote hardily at
the beast; but he, after the fashion of his kind, having risen to his hind
legs, fenced with his great paws like a boxer, and smote the axe out of her
hand, and she cried out bitterly and swerved from him and fell a running
again; but the bear tarried not, and would have caught her in a few turns;
but even therewith was Ralph come up, who thrust the beast into the side
with his long-headed spear, and not waiting to pull it out again, drew
sword in a twinkling, and smote a fore-paw off him and then drave the sword
in over the shoulder so happily that it reached his heart, and he fell over
dead with a mighty thump.

   Then Ralph turned toward Allison, and he swept her up without a word,
and kissed her greedily; and she forbore not at all, but kissed and
caressed him as if she could never be satisfied.  And he carried her back
to their abiding-place and held her gently for some time, and she did sob
and weep away her terror, until at last she did fall asleep in his arms. 
And without stinting he did hold her until she awaked.

   Then did she ope her eyes and look about her as if affrighted, but
seeing no bear, and only her master holding her gently and looking on her
with love and care, she did settle into his arms and was contented.

   But at the last did Ralph hold her away from him, and did cup her chin
in his hands to tilt her face up, and did look her in the eyes and inquire:

   'Allison, what did ye so far from me?  Did the bear chase thee so far?
Or did thee wander?' And sternly did he look at her, and her chin did
tremble as she answered and spake:

   'I did wander, Master.  As I bathed I saw a spillway in the river, and
sought to dam it in play, and left the river with my little axe to cut
branches like unto a beaver's work, and did not think of how far I had
gone. I'm very sorry, Master.'

   Then Ralph did say:

   'I'm glad and joyful that thou art unhurt, but thou knowest that thou
might have been maimed or e'en killed, and I could not have borne that. 
Didst thou not think on't when thou went wandering?' And such pain was in
his eyes that the little maiden cast herself into his embrace and cried
out, 'I'm sorry-I'm sorry-I'm sorry!' and her tears did stain the cambric
of his tunic yet again.

   Then after some time of this did she look up at the knight and speak,
saying:
'Thou must punish me, m'Lord, for 'twas naught of me to do as I have

done.'

   And Ralph did agree that he shouldst do so, and at once.  'This tree
shall be the White Pillar,' he said, as he bound the little girl all
mother-naked to it, and her nipples and unfledged cleft pressed against the
bark, and she moaned at the feel of it.

   Then did Ralph take his belt and swing it against her trembling buttocks
and slender thighs which were bared to his view, and SNAP-WHAP-WHACK!  did
resound amongst the trees, and 'AAAH!  OOOH!  AAA, M'LORD, PLEASE!' did the
nine-year-old maiden cry out at the sting, and the red marks did spring
lightly to her fair skin as she was chastised.  After some time of such
whipping-cheer, he did loose her, and rebind her facing outwards, and she
did blush to think of her charms so bared to his view, to wit her
breastbuds with the nipples thereof all erect, and her girlcleft unfledged
between her thighs, and the clitoris thereof; and this latter being swollen
with passion was most clearly to be seen framed between her nether lips.

   Now did Ralph speak and say, 'Married are we, little one, though we will
not consummate it as yet.  But I will enjoy your charms e'en so.' And he
did run his hand up and down the front of her, and did tweak and pinch her
nipples, and knead and work her breastbuds as she did gasp and moan.  Then
did he seize her cleft itself, and did heft and pinch and twist the lips
thereof, and pressed her clitoris 'gainst the bone of her pubis, and she
did cry out thereat, and the moisture did spring from the core of her.

   After some time of such pastime, he did step back, and once more swung
his belt against her nakedness, now whipping the front of her: nipples,
breastbuds, thighs, mons, cleftlips, and clitoris, all reddening most
fetchingly with each stroke, as she did cry out wildly, 'AAAAA! 
OOO-OOO-OOO-OOO!  AAAHHHH!  M'LORD, PLEASE,
I'LLBEGOOD-I'LLBEGOOD-I'LLBEGOOD!' And the sting, and the embarrassment,
and the passion of her discipline did fill her mind and body, 'til she
scarce knew where or who she was, and the punishment-orgasm did grip her,
and she did writhe, and scream, and come, and come.

   Then did he loose her, and gather her into his embrace, and there was
the kissing and the clipping, and she did sob, and moan, and shudder out
the vestiges of her passion as he held her.

   Finally Ralph spoke to her saying:

   'Now, little one, though I will not take thy maidenhead at this time,
and I have already taken the virginity of thine anus, yet will I take that
other maidenhood which thou hast remaining, as is my right as thy husband.
So kneel before me, and ope thy mouth, and use not thy teeth, mind!  And I
bid thee swallow what I spend, for it is not meet that it should fall to
the ground.' And so the pretty little girl-thrall did kneel before him, and
he did take and thrust his manhood within the lips of her mouth, and soft
and warm was she, and most pleasing was the sight and feel of his tool
within the mouth of this nine-year-old girl, and he did work his rod in and
out of her, and it is not to be wondered at that it was no long time before
he did groan and spend, and his seed filled her mouth, and she strove to
swallow it, and did so for the most part, yet some did drip from the
corners of her lips.  And he was filled with love for his little
girl-thrall-wife, and did catch her up in his arms and kiss her most
deeply, heedless of the traces of his seed still on her lips.  And most
blithe and content were they with each other.

   And when they were well rested they left that place and rode on and
continued their quest.  As they travelled they passed over as it were great
land-waves, and they came to the last one and climbed it slowly, going
afoot and leading Ralph's horse; but when they were but a little way from
the brow they saw, over a gap thereof, something, as it were huge horns
rising up into the air beyond the crest of the ridge.  So they marveled,
and the young knight drew his sword, and they held them still awhile,
misdoubting if this were perchance some terrible monster of the waste; but
whereas the thing moved not at all, they plucked up heart and fared on.

   So came they to the brow and looked over it into a valley, about which
on all sides went a ridge, save where it was broken down into a narrow pass
on the further side, so that the said valley was like to one of those
theatres of the ancient Roman Folk, whereof are some to be seen in certain
lands.  Neither did those desert benches lack their sitters; for all down
the sides of the valley sat or lay children of men; some women, but most
men-folk, of whom the more part were weaponed, and some with their drawn
swords in their hands.

   Whatever semblance of moving was in them was when the eddying wind of
the valley stirred the rags of their raiment, or the long hair of the
women. But a very midmost of this dreary theatre rose up a huge and
monstrous tree, whose topmost branches were even the horns which they had
seen from below the hill's brow.  Leafless was that tree and lacking of
twigs, and its bole upheld but some fifty of great limbs, and as they
looked on it, they doubted whether it were not made by men's hands rather
than grown up out of the earth.  All round about the roots of it was a pool
of clear water, that cast back the image of the valley-side and the bright
sky of the desert, as though it had been a mirror of burnished steel.  The
limbs of that tree were all behung with blazoned shields and knight's
helms, and swords, and spears, and axes, and hawberks; and it rose up into
the air some hundred feet above the flat of the valley.

   For a while they looked down silently on to this marvel then from both
their lips at once came the cry THE DRY TREE.  Then Ralph thrust his sword
back into his sheath and said:

   "Meseems I must needs go down amongst them; there is naught to do us
harm here; for all these are dead."

   They went both of them down together, and that easily; for as aforesaid
the slope was as if it had been cut into steps for their feet.  And as they
passed by the dead folk, for whom they had often to turn aside, they noted
that each of the dead leathery faces was drawn up in a grin as though they
had died in pain, and yet beguiled, so that all those visages looked
somewhat alike, as though they had come from the workshop of one craftsman.

   At last Ralph and Allison stood on the level ground underneath the Tree,
and they looked up at the branches, and down to the water at their feet;
and now it seemed to them as though the Tree had verily growth in it, for
they beheld its roots, that they went out from the mound or islet of earth
into the water, and spread abroad therein, and seemed to waver about.  So
they walked around the Tree, and looked up at the shields that hung on its
branches, but saw no blazon that they knew, though they were many and
diverse; and the armour also and weapons were very diverse of fashion.

   Now when they were come back again to the place where they had first
stayed, Ralph said: "I thirst, and so belike dost thou; and here is water
good and clear; let us drink then, and so spare our water-skins, for belike
the dry desert is yet long." And therewith he knelt down that he might take
of the water in the hollow of his hand.  But the little girl-thrall drew
him back, and cried out in terror: "O M'Lord, do it not!  Seest thou not
this water, that although it be bright and clear, so that we may see all
the pebbles at the bottom, yet nevertheless when the wind eddies about, and
lifts the skirts of our raiment, it makes no ripple on the face of the
pool, and doubtless it is heavy with venom; and moreover there is no sign
of the way hereabout, as at other watering-steads; O forbear, Master!"

   Then he rose up and drew back with her but slowly and unwillingly as she
deemed; and they stood together a while gazing on these marvels.  But lo
amidst of this while, there came a crow wheeling over the valley of the
dead, and he croaked over the Dry Tree, and let himself drop down to the
edge of the pool, whereby he stalked about a little after the manner of his
kind.  Then he thrust his neb into the water and drank, and thereafter took
wing again; but ere he was many feet off the ground he gave a grievous
croak, and turning over in the air fell down stark dead close to the feet
of those twain; and Ralph cried out but spake no word with meaning therein;
then said the little thrall: "Yea, thus are we saved from present death."
Then she looked in Ralph's face, and turned pale and said hastily: "O
m'Lord how is it with thee?" But she waited not for an answer, but turned
her face to the bent whereby they had come down, and cried out in a loud,
shrill voice: "O Master, Master!  look up yonder to the ridge whereby we
left thine horse; look, look!  There glitters a spear, and lo a helm
underneath the spear: tarry not, let us save the horse!"

   Then Ralph let a cry out from his mouth, and set off running to the side
of the slope, and fell to climbing it with great strides, not heeding
Allison; but she followed close after, and scrambled up with foot and hand
and knee, till she stood beside him on the top, and he looked around wildly
and cried out:

   "Where!  where are they?"

   "Nowhere," she said, "it was naught but my word to draw thee from death;
but praise to the saints that thou are come alive out of the accursed
valley."

   He seemed not to hearken, but turned about once, and beat the air with
his hands, and then fell down on his back and with a great wail she cast
herself upon him, for she deemed at first that he was dead.  But she took a
little water from one of their skins, and cast it into his face, and took a
flask of cordial from the saddle pouch, and set it to his lips, and made
him drink somewhat thereof.

   So in a while he came to himself and opened his eyes and smiled upon
her, and she took his head in her hands and kissed his cheek, and he sat up
and said feebly: "Shall we not go down into the valley there is naught
there to harm us?"

   "We have been down there already," she said, "and well it is that we are
not both lying there now."

   Then he got to his feet, and stretched himself, and yawned like one just
awakened from long sleep.  But she said: "Let us to horse and begone,
m'Lord; it is early hours to slumber, for those that are seeking the Well
at the World's End."

   He smiled on her again and took her hand, and she led him to his horse,
and they gat a-horseback, and they rode away swiftly from that evil place;
and after a while Ralph was himself again, and remembered all that had
happened till he fell down on the brow of the ridge.

   Then halted them and dismounted, and sat them upon a rock nearby, and he
praised little Allison's wisdom and valiancy, and he drew her up close to
him and kissed her face sweetly.  Then did he say to her:

   "Sweetling, well hast thou learned thy lesson of wisdom and caution, and
now thou hast saved us both from an ill fate, to wit, me from death, and
thou from being left lonesome in the wilderness with none to ward thee, the
thought of which I canst scarcely bear.  Yet did thou speak falsely to me
just now, and for that thou must needs be disciplined." He spoke sternly,
yet he smiled on her as he spake, and well knew she that he did jest about
her fault, and did truly praise her and loved her well.

   Having neither a tree for a Pillar nearby, nor time forsooth to spare,
he forebore to bind her, but did cast her over his lap, and tossed up the
hem of her shift, and her buttocks trim and fair were bared to the breeze
that blew upon them over the ridges, and he did spank her gently yet
briskly, and she did moan and writhe most prettily.  Then did he sit her on
his lap and faced her away from him, and did pull her back against his
chest and pull her shift up and did spread her thighs wide, and her cleft
all unfledged was likewise bared to the breeze, and he did spank her full
upon her girlhood, and the mons and cleftlips and clitoris thereof, and her
moans and cries did wax most passionate, and indeed naught of sting did she
e'en notice, for he did treat her in this fashion as reward far more than
punishment, and this she wot well, and did abandon herself to the sensation
of it, and did revel in it.

   After some little while of this pastime most pleasant, the knight did
cast his cloak upon the sward, and lay his little girl-thrall upon it on
her back, and bade her draw her knees up and then let them fall, and the
core of her being, even her little girlhood, lay bare to him, and shy was
she to think that her nakedness was so exposed to the gaze of a man, and
her cheeks did flame at it.  Yet but little time was there for her to
consider this, for he did seize the very lips of her vulva, and did pull
them apart, and her maidenhead was bared, and it glistened before him, and
the opening thereof was small, for she was but a girl of nine summers and
had not yet known a man.  And he did thrust the little finger of him within
this aperture, and work it both in and out so that it was as if he were
verily raping her maidenhead with his finger, and she did cry out wildly
thereat.  Then did he knead and work the nether lips and the clitoris of
her, and she did writhe and moan with the passion thereof.  Then he spake
and said:

   "Now sweetling, I have punished thee well and given thee the sting e'en
upon thy girlhood and the lips thereof.  Therefore, since I love thee so
well, and am liken unto a father to thee as well as thy master and husband,
so will I 'kiss it and make it better'." And without further word he did
fasten his mouth both hot and passionate upon her unfledged cleft and the
puffy lips thereof, and he did fairly rape her with his tongue, thrusting
it in and out between the lips of her cleft, forcing it to the maidenhead
of her as she did near scream for as intense as it was to her to be treated
so.  And he did take the clitoris of her 'tween tongue and teeth in a bite
that inflamed her so that she did scream indeed and did spend and spend,
and buck and writhe, and spend yet more, and 'twas as if all the
punishment-orgasms she had been gi'en in her short life were cast into one
and made ten- or e'en a hundred-fold.  And he did sweep her into his
embrace and did hold her and rock her like unto the little child that she
was as her cries slowly faded to moans and whimpers and sighs, and she did
fall fast asleep in his arms.

   When she did awaken they traveled on.  Past the Valley of the Dry Tree
the land was still utterly barren, and all cast up into ridges as before,
yet the salt slime grew less and less, and before nightfall of that day
they had done with it: and the next day those stony waves were lower; and
the next again the waste was but a swelling plain, and here and there they
came on patches of dwarf willow, and other harsh and scanty herbage,
whereof the horse might have a bait, which he sore needed, for now was the
fodder done: but both men and horse were sore athirst; for, as carefully as
they had hoarded their water, there was now but little left, which they
durst not drink till they were driven perforce, lest they should yet die of
drought.

   They journeyed long that day, and whereas the moon was up at night-tide
they lay not down till she was set; and their resting place was by some low
bushes, whereabout was rough grass mingled with willow-herb, whereby Ralph
judged that they drew nigh to water, so or ever they slept, they and the
horses all but emptied the water-skins.

   When Ralph awoke in the morning he cried out that he could see the
woodland; and Allison arose at his cry and looked where he pointed, and
sure enough there were trees on a rising ground some two miles ahead, and
beyond them, not very far by seeming, they beheld the tops of great dark
mountains.

   Now they mounted the horse at once and rode on; and the beast was as
eager as they were, and belike smelt the water.  So when they had ridden
but three miles, they saw a fair little river before them winding about
exceedingly, but flowing eastward on the whole.  So they spurred on with
light hearts and presently were on the banks of the said river, and its
waters were crystal-clear, though its sands were black: and the
pink-blossomed willow-herb was growing abundantly on the sandy shores. 
Close to the water was a black rock, as big as a man, whereon was graven
the sign of the way, so they knew that there was no evil in the water,
wherefore they drank their fill and watered the horse abundantly, and on
the further bank was there abundance of good grass.  So when they had drunk
their fill, for the pleasure of the cool water they waded the ford
barefoot, and it was scarce above Allison's thigh.  Then they had great joy
to lie on the soft grass and eat their meat, while the horse tore eagerly
at the herbage close to them.  So when they had eaten, they rested awhile,
but before they went further they despoiled them, one after other, and
bathed in a pool of the river to wash the foul wilderness off them.  Then
again they rested and let the horse yet bite the grass, and departed not
from that pleasant place till it was two hours after noon.  As they were
lying there Ralph said he could hear a great roar like the sound of many
waters, but very far off.

   Being come to the wood they went not very far into it that day, for they
were minded to rest them after the weariness of the wilderness: they
feasted on a hare which Ralph shot, and made a big fire to keep off evil
beasts, but none came nigh them, though they heard the voices of certain
beasts as the night grew still.  And nought would do but that Allison
should make some mischief or other, in jest to be sure, meaning to be
disciplined for it, for she did long to feel the passion that flooded
through her when her beloved master punished her, and if she feared the
sting, she desired it also, and the upshot of it all was that Ralph took
his little girl in his arms, and stripped her, and bound her to a tree, and
she was spanked, and whipped, and her charms probed and molested so that
she did spend noisily.  Then did he loose her, and ere he could say ought
to her she dropped to her knees still mother-naked before him and drew his
rampant rod from his breeches and did service unto him, and in but a brief
space he was likewise spending in her mouth, and groaning from the pleasure
and sweetness of it.  And so spent were they both that, to be short, they
slept far into the morrow's morn, and then, being refreshed, and the horse
also, they rode strongly all day, and found the wood to be not very great;
for before sunset they were come to its outskirts, and the mountains lay
before them.

   The next day they entered them by a pass marked with the token, which
led them about by a winding way till they were on the side of the biggest
fell of all; so there they rested that night in a fair little hollow or
dell in the mountain-side.  There in the stillness of the night both
Allison, as well as Ralph, heard that roaring of a great water, and they
said to each other that it must be the voice of the Sea, and they rejoiced
thereat, for they had learned by the Sage and his books that they must
needs come to the verge of the Ocean-Sea, which girdles the earth about. 
So they arose betimes on the morrow, and set to work to climb the mountain;
and in five hours' time they were at the mountain-top, and coming over the
brow beheld some three or four miles away the blue landless sea and on
either hand of them was the sea also, so that they were nigh-hand at the
ending of a great ness, and there was naught beyond it; and naught to do if
they missed the Well, but to turn back by the way they had come.

   Now when they saw this they were exceedingly moved and they looked on
one another, and each saw that the other was pale, with glistening eyes,
since they were to come to the very point of their doom, and that it should
be seen whether there were no such thing as the Well in all the earth, but
that they had been chasing a fair-hued cloud; or else their Quest should be
achieved and they should have the world before them, and they happy and
mighty, and of great worship amidst all men.

   Little they tarried, but gat them down the steep of the mountain, and so
lower and lower till they were come to ground nigh level; and then at last
it was but thus, that without any great rock-wall or girdle of marvelous
and strange land, there was an end of earth, with its grass and trees and
streams, and a beginning of the ocean, which stretched away changeless, and
it might be for ever.  Where the land ended there was but a cliff of less
than an hundred feet above the eddying of the sea; and on the very point of
the ness was a low green toft with a square stone set atop of it, whereon
as they drew nigh they saw the token graven, yea on each face thereof.

   Then they went along the edge of the cliff a mile on each side of the
said toft, and then finding naught else to note, naught save the grass and
the sea, they came back to that place of the token, and sat down on the
grass of the toft.

   It was now evening, and the sun was setting beyond them, but they could
behold a kind of stair cut in the side of the cliff, and on the first step
whereof was the token done; wherefore they knew that they were bidden to go
down by the said stair; but it seemed to lead no whither, save straight
into the sea.  And whiles it came into Ralph's mind that this was naught
but a mock, as if to bid the hapless seekers cast themselves down from the
earth, and be done with it for ever.  But in any case they might not try
the adventure of that stair by the failing light, and with the night long
before them.  So when they had hoppled the horse, and left him to graze on
the sweet grass of the meadow, they laid them down behind the green toft,
and were forwearied so that Ralph forebore e'en to discipline little
Allison, save for a quick lifting of the hem of her shift, and a brief pair
of spanks upon her buttocks so bared, and it was no long time ere they
twain slept fast at the uttermost end of the world.

   Ralph awoke from some foolish morning dream of Upmeads, wondering where
he was, or what familiar voice had cried out his name: then he raised
himself on his elbow, and saw little Allison standing before him with
flushed face and sparkling eyes, and she was looking out seaward, while she
called on his name.  So he sprang up and strove with the slumber that still
hung about him, and as his eyes cleared he looked down, and saw that the
sea, which last night had washed the face of the cliff, had now ebbed far
out, and left bare betwixt the billows and the cliff some half mile of
black sand, with rocks of the like hue rising out of it here and there. 
But just below the place where they stood, right up against the cliff, was
builded by man's hand of huge stones a garth of pound, the wall whereof was
some seven feet high, and the pound within the wall of forty feet space
endlong and overthwart; and the said pound was filled with the waters of a
spring that came forth from the face of the cliff as they deemed, though
from above they might not see the issue thereof; but the water ran seaward
from the pound by some way unseen, and made a wide stream through the black
sand of the foreshore: but ever the great basin filled somewhat faster than
it voided, so that it ran over the lip on all sides, making a thin veil
over the huge ashlar-stones of the garth.  The day was bright and fair with
no wind, save light airs playing about from the westward ort, and all
things gleamed and glittered in the sun.

   Ralph stood still a moment, and then stretched abroad his arms, and with
a great sob cast them round about the body of his beloved little girl, and
strained her to his bosom as he murmured about her, THE WELL AT THE WORLD'S
END.  But she wept for joy as she fawned upon him, and let her little hands
beat upon his body.

   But when they were somewhat calmed of their ecstasy of joy, they made
ready to go down by that rocky stair.  And first Ralph did off his armour
and other gear, and when they were naked they did on certain hallowed
raiment which the Sage had gi'en them; and so clad gat them down the
rock-hewn stair, Ralph going first, lest there should be any broken place;
but naught was amiss with those hard black stones, and they came safely to
a level place of the rock, whence they could see the face of the cliff, and
how the waters of the Well came gushing forth from a hollow therein in a
great swelling wave as clear as glass; and the sun glistened in it and made
a foam-bow about its edges.  But above the issue of the waters the black
rock had been smoothed by man's art, and thereon was graven the Sword and
the Bough, and above it these words, to wit:

   YE WHO HAVE COME A LONG WAY TO LOOK UPON ME, DRINK OF ME, IF YE DEEM
THAT YE BE STRONG ENOUGH IN DESIRE TO BEAR LENGTH OF DAYS: OR ELSE DRINK
NOT; BUT TELL YOUR FRIENDS AND THE KINDREDS OF THE EARTH HOW YE HAVE SEEN A
GREAT MARVEL.

   So they looked long and wondered; and Allison said: "Deemest thou, my
Lord, that any have come thus far and forborne to drink?"

   Said Ralph: "Surely not even the exceeding wise might remember the
bitterness of his wisdom as he stood here."

   Then he looked on her and his face grew bright beyond measure, and cried
out: "O my little love!  why tarry we?  For yet I fear lest we be come too
late, and thou die before mine eyes ere yet thou hast drunken."
"Yea," she said, "and I also fear for thee, though thy face is ruddy and
thine eyes sparkle, and thou art as lovely as the Captain of the Lord's

hosts."

   Then she laughed, and her laughter was as silver bells rung tunably, and
she said: "But where is the cup for the drinking?"

   But Ralph looked on the face of the wall, and about the height of his
hand saw square marks thereon, as though there were an ambrye; and amidst
the square was a knop of latten, all green with the weather and the salt
spray.  So Ralph set his hand to the knop and drew strongly, and lo it was
a door made of a squared stone hung on brazen hinges, and it opened easily
to him, and within was a cup of goldsmith's work, with the sword and the
bough done thereon; and round about the rim writ this posey:

   "THE STRONG OF HEART SHALL DRINK FROM ME." So Ralph took it and held it
aloft so that its pure metal flashed in the sun, and he said: "This is for
thee, Sweetling."

   "Yea, and for thee, m'Lord," she said.

   Now that level place, or bench-table went up to the very gushing and
green bow of the water, so Ralph took Allison's hand and led her along, she
going a little after him, till they were close to the Well, and stood
amidst the spray-bow thereof, so that she looked verily like one of the
painted angels on the choir wall of St.  Laurence of Upmeads.  Then he
reached forth his hand and thrust the cup into the water, holding it
stoutly because the gush of the stream was strong, so that the water of the
Well splashed all over him, wetting Allison's face and breast withal, and
her nipples erect could thence be seen through the thin fabric of the
garment the Sage had provided for her: and he felt that the water was sweet
without any saltness of the sea.  But he turned to Allison and reached out
the full cup to her, and said: "Sweetling, call a health over the cup!"

   She took it and said: "To thy life, beloved master!" and drank withal,
and her eyes looked out of the cup the while, like a child's when he
drinketh, which forsooth e'en so was she.  Then she gave him the cup again
and said: "Drink, beloved Master, and tarry not, lest thou die and I live."

   Then Ralph plunged the cup into the waters again, and he held the cup
aloft, and cried out: "To the Earth, and the World of Manfolk!" and
therewith he drank.

   For a minute then they clung together within the spray-bow of the Well,
and then she took his hand and they went back to the midst of the
bench-table, and he put the cup into the ambrye, and shut it up again, and
then they sat them down on the widest of the platform under the shadow of a
jutting rock; for the sun was hot; and therewithal a sweet weariness began
to steal over them, though there was speech betwixt them for a little, and
Ralph said: "How is it with thee, little beloved?"

   "O well indeed, m'Lord!" she said.

   Quoth he: "And how tasteth to thee the water of the Well?"

   Slowly she spake and sleepily: "It tasted good, and as if thy love were
blended with it."

   And she smiled in his face; but he said: "One thing I wonder over: how
shall we wot if we have drunk aright For whereas if we were sick or old and
failing, or ill-liking, and were now presently healed of all this, and
become strong and fair to look on, then should we know it for sure--but
now, though, as I look on thee, I behold thee the fairest of any
girl-child, and on thy face is no token of toil and travail, and the
weariness of the way; and though the heart-ache of loneliness and
captivity, and the shame of thy prior thralldom has left no mark upon
thee--yet hast thou not always been sweet to my eyes, and as sweet as might
be.  And how then"...But he broke off and looked on her and she smiled upon
the love in his eyes, and his head fell back and he slept with a calm and
smiling face.  And she leaned over him to kiss his face but even therewith
her own eyes closed and she laid her head upon his breast, and slept as
peacefully as he.



   Long they slept till the shadows were falling from the west, and the sea
was flowing fast again over the sands beneath them, though there was still
a great space bare betwixt the cliff and the sea.  Then spake Allison as if
Ralph had but just left speaking; and she said: "Yea, dear lord, and I also
say, that, lovely as thou art now, never hast thou been aught else but
lovely to me.  But tell me, hast thou had any scar of a hurt upon thy body?
For if now that were gone, surely it should be a token of the renewal of
thy life.  But if it be not gone, then there may yet be another token."

   Then he stood upon his feet, and she cried out: "O but thou art fair and
mighty, who now shall dare gainsay thee?  Who shall not long for thee?"

   Said Ralph: "Look, little love!  how the sea comes over the sand like
the creeping of a sly wood-snake!  Shall we go hence and turn from the
ocean-sea without wetting our bodies in its waters?"

   "Let us go," she said.

   So they went down on to the level sands, and along the edges of the
sweet-water stream that flowed from the Well; and Ralph said: "Beloved, I
will tell thee of that which thou hast asked me: when I was but a lad of
sixteen winters there rode men a-lifting into Upmeads, and Nicholas
Longshanks, who is a wise man of war, gathered force and went against them,
and I must needs ride beside him.  Now we came to our above, and put the
thieves to the road; but in the hurly I got a claw from the war-beast, for
the stroke of a sword sheared me off somewhat from my shoulder: belike thou
hast seen the scar and loathed it."

   "It is naught loathsome," she said, "for a young man to be a bold
warrior, nor for a grown man to think lightly of the memory of death drawn
near for the first time.  Yea, m'Lord, I have noted it, but let me see now
what has befallen with it."

   As she spoke they were come to a salt pool in a rocky bight on their
right hand, which the tide was filling speedily; and Ralph spake: "See now,
this is the bath of the water of the ocean sea."

   So they were speedily naked and playing in the water, and he reveled at
the sight of his little nine year old girl-thrall sporting in the waves,
and many a spank on bottom and tweak of nipple and clit did she have at her
beloved master's hand, and she did giggle thereat merrily as they plashed:
and Allison took Ralph by the arm and looked to his shoulder and said: "O
my lord of the pale edges, where is gone thy glory?  There is no mark of
the sword's pilgrimage on thy shoulder."

   "Nay, none?" quoth he.

   "None, none!" she said, "Didst thou say the very sooth of thy hurt in
the battle, O master of mine?"

   "Yea, the sooth," said he.  Then she laughed sweetly and merrily like
the chuckle of a piccolo over the rippling waters, that rose higher and
higher about them, and she turned her eyes askance and looked adown to her
own slender side, and laid her hand on it and laughed again.  Then said
Ralph: "What is toward, beloved child?  For thy laugh is rather of joy than
of mirth alone."
She said: "O smooth-skinned warrior, O Lily and Rose of battle, and mine
own dear master; here on my side yesterday was the token of the rock that
gored me when I had but four summers, and did slip on the greensward five
years ago: look now and pity the maiden that lay on the grass of the

forest, and the woodman a-passing by deemed her dead five years ago."

   Ralph stooped down as the ripple washed away from her, then said: "In
sooth here is no mark nor blemish, but the best handiwork of God, as when
he first made a woman from the side of the Ancient Father of the field of
Damask.  But lo you little love, how swift the tide cometh up, and I long
to see thy feet on the green grass, and I fear the sea, lest it stir the
joy over strongly in our hearts and we be not able to escape from its
waves."

   So they went up from out of the water, and did on the hallowed raiment
fragrant with strange herbs, and passed joyfully up the sand towards the
cliff and its stair; and speedily withal, for so soon as they were clad
again, the little ripple of the sea was nigh touching their feet.  As they
went, they noted that the waters of the Well flowed seaward from the
black-walled pound by three arched openings in its outer face, and they
beheld the mason's work, how goodly it was; for it was as if it had been
cut out of the foot of a mountain, so well jointed were its stones, and its
walls solid against any storm that might drive against it.

   They climbed the stair, and sat them down on the green grass awhile
watching the ocean coming in over the sand and the rocks, and Ralph said:
"I will tell thee, sweetling, that I am grown eager for the road; though
true it is that whiles I was down yonder amidst the ripple of the sea I
longed for naught but thee, though thou wert beside me, and thy joyous
words were as fire to the heart of my love.  But now that I am on the green
grass of the earth I called to mind a dream that came to me when we slept
after the precious draught of the Well: for methought that I was standing
before the porch of the Feast-hall of Upmeads and holding thine hand, and
the ancient House spake to me with the voice of a man, greeting both thee
and me, and praising thy sweetness and valiancy.  Surely then it is calling
me to deeds, and if it were but morning, as it is now drawing towards
sunset, we would mount and be gone straightway."

   "Surely," she said, "thou hast drunk of the Well, and the fear of thee
has already entered into the hearts of thy foemen far away, even as the
love of thee constraineth me as I lie by thy side, m'Lord; but since it is
evening and sunset, let it be evening, and let the morning see to its own
matters.  So now let us be pilgrims again, and eat the meal of pilgrims,
and see to the horse, and then wander about this lovely wilderness and its
green meads, where no son of man heedeth the wild things, till the night
come, bringing to us the rest and the sleep of them that have prevailed
over many troubles.  And mayhap I will have proved as naught as is my
wont." And she cast her face down, but did as it were peep up at him
through her lashes, which were long and fair to look upon.

   Even so they did, and broke bread above the sea, and looked to the
horse, and then went hand in hand about the goodly green bents betwixt the
sea and the rough of the mountain; and it was the fairest and softest of
summer evenings; and the deer of that place, both little and great, had no
fear of man, but the hart and hind came to Allison's hand; and the thrushes
perched upon her shoulder, and the hares gambolled together close to the
feet of the twain; so that it seemed to them that they had come into the
very Garden of God; and they forgat all the many miles of the waste and the
mountain that lay before them, and they had no thought for the strife of
foemen and the thwarting of kindred, that belike awaited them in their own
land, but they thought of the love and happiness of the hour that was
passing.  So sweetly they wore through the last minutes of the day, and
when it was as dark as it would be in that fair season, Ralph called her to
him, and sat her upon his knee, and spake unto her, saying:

   "Now, little love, have we both drunk of the Well, and fair and more
fair have thee become unto me.  Married are we, but I would yet hear from
thee once more: art thou willing to be mine in full?"

   And she did cast her face down as if in thought, but only for a moment,
then did raise it up to his, saying:

   "Thou meanest that the time is come that thou shouldst rape me of my
maidenhead, dost thou not, m'Lord?" And 'twas as if the question was
suspended in the very air twixt the twain, and did revolve in fashion most
lazy.  And Ralph, full of love and desire for his little girl-thrall, did
manage to speak and affirm it so.  But one heartbeat of time did he wait,
and she did speak unto him and say:

   "Fain am I to have it so, and to be thine most fully, master."

   Then were they most blithe with each other, and did entwine each in the
other's arms, and much there was of the kissing and the clipping.  And
Ralph did cast her garment from her, and mother-naked was she before him,
and if she was fair before she had drunk of the Well, now she was
heartbreaking in her slenderness.  Once more did he discipline her, with
switch, and hand, and belt, upon bare buttocks, and thighs, and nipples,
and yea e'en upon the anus and girlcleft of her, all unfledged, til the
faint redness did spring to the fair flesh of her, and she did writhe and
cry out in her passion.  And nigh unto spending did he bring her as he
fastened his mouth upon her girlhood, but e'en as she neared the peak
thereof, he did spread himself full upon her as she lay on the soft
greensward, and did thrust his rampant rod twixt her thighs and into the
vagina of her, and did rape her of her maidenhead with one stroke, and she
did scream but once and that loudly, and then fell to weeping with
shoulders shaking, and he did kiss and caress her, and soothe and stroke
her, and soon her distress faded to sobs and whimpers no more than a few.
Then did he resume the rape of her, and did thrust in and out of her with
his manhood all erect, and did drive for the cervix of her, and her cries
rang out, and the stretching of her little girlhood and the clitoris
thereof did bring the very passion to her hips once more, and he did force
her to climax, and she did scream thereat, and beat upon his sides with her
little fists, and kick, and writhe, and come near to fainting of it.  And
he did spend within her also, groaning most lustily, and the pleasure of
having raped his little girl of nine summers of her maidenhead, and having
his manhood thrust within her girlhood so tight and yet so soft, was beyond
his imagining.  And long did he lie buried within her, and she held tightly
in his arms as she murmured and whimpered, and was comforted to know how
much he loved her, as they lay by the green knoll at the ending of the
land, and were lulled to sleep by the bubbling of the Well at the World's
End.

   At the breaking of the dawn they did up their gear, and mounted, and
went on their way.  Long indeed was the returning as the going out, but as
is oft the way it seemed not so.  And it was on a fair evening of later
autumn-tide that they won their way out of the Gates of the Mountains, and
when they came out with joyful hearts into the green plain betwixt the
mountains and the River of Lava, they looked westward, and beheld no great
way off a little bower or cot, builded of boughs and rushes by a blackthorn
copse; and as they rode toward it they saw a man come forth therefrom, and
presently saw that he was hoary, a man with a long white beard.  Then Ralph
gave a glad cry, and set spurs to his horse and galloped over the plain;
for he deemed that it could be none other than the Sage of Swevenham; and
Allison before him was laughing for joy.  The old man abode their coming,
and Ralph leapt off his horse at once, and kissed and embraced him; but the
Sage said:

   "There is no need to ask thee of tidings; for thine eyes and thine whole
body tell me that thou hast drunk of the Well at the World's End.  And that
shall be better for thee belike than it has been for me; though for me also
the world has not gone ill after my fashion since I drank of that water."

   Then was Allison lifted from their steed, and come up, and she also made
much of the Sage.  But he said: "Hail, 'grand-daughter'!  It is sweet to
see thee so, and to wot that thou art in the hands of a mighty man: for I
know that Ralph thy man is minded for his Father's House, and the deeds
that abide him there; and I think we may journey a little way together; for
as for me, I would go back to Swevenham to end my days there, whether they
be long or short."

   But Ralph said: "As for that, thou mayst go further than Swevenham, and
as far as Upmeads, where there will be as many to love and cherish thee as
at Swevenham."

   The old man laughed a little, and reddened withal, but answered nothing.
Then they untrussed their sumpter-beast, and took meat and drink from his
burden, and they ate and drank together, sitting on the green grass there;
and the twain made great joy of the Sage, and told him the whole tale; and
he told them that he had been abiding there since the spring-tide, lest
they might have turned back without accomplishing their quest, and then
may-happen he should have been at hand to comfort them, or the one of them
left, if so it had befallen.  "But," quoth he, "since ye have verily drunk
of the Well at the World's End, ye have come back no later than I looked
for you."

   Then did they ride back with the Sage to his dwelling-place, and did
tarry with him for two week's time.  So they dwelt there for two week's
time happily enough; for they helped the Sage in his husbandry, and he
enforced him to make them cheer, and read in the ancient book to them, and
learned them as much as it behoved them to hearken; and told them tales of
past time.

   Blithe and merry were the three with each other as they had been before,
or e'en more so, for all had now drunk of the Well.  And little Allison
blossomed almost daily, or so it seemed to the eyes of her husband and
master, who was like unto a father to her, and to the Sage, who was like
unto a grandfather, and her sweetness and slender beauty was dazzling like
the sun on a swiftly flowing river.  Yet was she still a child, and
mischievous enow, and it is not to be wondered at that she was nearly
nightly bound again all mother-naked to the Pillar of the Sage's cot, and
one or the other of the twain of men would discipline her with switch or
belt, or hand-spank upon her buttocks bared, or yea even full upon her mons
and unfledged cleftlips and the clitoris thereof.  And what with that, and
the pinching and twisting of her small nipples, and other torments both
loving and tender, she was forced to punishment-orgasm daily and yea more
than daily.  Oft would the Sage exercise his rights as master of the house
and rape her anus to discipline her further, and oft after that would her
loving master and husband take her into the inner room of the cottage and
rape her once more in her ten-year-old girl's cleft, and take her
maidenhead again and again, as it replenished itself nightly, sith she had
drunk from the Well, and she did cry out wildly at all this, and writhe,
and moan, and spend.  And so had they much pleasure with each other.

   But when the time to travel further was at hand they set out on their
road, and whereas the Sage knew the wood well, he made a long story short
by bringing them nigh unto Whitwall in four weeks' time.

   Herewith they were come to a little thorp where the way sundered, for
the highway went on to Whitwall, and a byway turned off to Swevenham. 
Thereby was a poor hostel, where they stayed and rested for the night,
because evening was at hand.  So when those three had eaten and drunk there
together, Ralph spoke and said: "O my 'father', for so shall I call thee,
and 'grandfather' to my little thrall and girl-wife here, thou art for
Swevenham to-morrow?"

   And the Sage spoke and said: "What word hath come out of thy mouth, my
son?"

   Said Ralph, smiling on him: "It is the last word which we have heard
from thee of this matter, though verily it was spoken a while ago.  What
wilt thou add to it as now?"

   "This," quoth the Sage, "that I will leave thee no more till thou
biddest me go from thee.  Was this word needful?"

   Ralph reached his hand to him and said: "It is well and more; but the
road hence to Upmeads may yet be a rough one."

   "Yea," said the Sage, "yet shall we come thither all living, unless my
sight now faileth."

   Then Allison rose up and came to the old man, and cast her arms about
him and said: "Yea, 'Grandfather', come with us, and let thy wisdom bless
our roof-tree.  Wilt thou not teach me and discipline me more, for well do
I need and crave it at they hands, and our children likewise; yea, maybe
our children's children, since thou art a friend of the Well?"

   "I know not of the teaching of wisdom," said the Sage; "but as to my
going with thee, it shall be as I said e'en-now; and forsooth I looked for
this bidding of thee to make naught of the word which I spoke ere yet I had
learned wisdom of thee."

   Therewith were they merry, and fain of each other, and the evening wore
amidst great content.

   So the next morn the three held on their way to Whitwall, and it was
barely noon when they came to the gate thereof on a Saturday of latter May,
It was a market-day, and the streets were thronged, and they looked on the
folk and were fain of them, since they seemed to them to be something more
than aliens.  The folk also looked on them curiously, and deemed them
goodly, both the old man and the knight, and his war-taken thrall, for they
thought no otherwise of Allison in her shift than that she was bond unto
one or the other of them.

   But now as they rode, slowly because of the crowd, up Petergate, they
heard a cry of one beside them, as of a man astonished but joyful; so Ralph
drew rein, and turned thither whence the cry came, and little Allison saw a
man wide-shouldered, grey-haired, blue-eyed, and ruddy of countenance--a
man warrior-like to look on, and girt with a long sword.  Ralph lighted
down from his horse, and met the man, who was coming toward him, cast his
arms about his neck, and kissed him, and lo, it was Richard the Red.  The
people round about, when they saw it, clapped their hands, and crowded
about the two crying out: "Hail to the friends long parted, and now
united!"

   But Richard, whom most knew, cried out: "Make way, my masters!  will ye
sunder us again?" Then he said to Ralph: "Get into thy saddle, lad; for
surely thou hast a tale to tell overlong for the open street."

   Ralph did as he was bidden, and without more ado they went on all toward
that hostelry where Ralph and Allison had erst stayed a while.  Richard
walked by Ralph's side, and as he went he said:

   "Moreover, lad, I can see that thy tale is no ill one; therefore my
heart is not wrung for thee or me, though I wait for it a while." And he
looked upon Allison and laughed and said:

   "Well, it is a fair rose which thou hast brought from east-away.  There
will be never another couple in these parts like you.  Now I see the words
on thy lips; so I tell thee that Blaise thy brother is alive and well and
happy; which last word means that his coffer is both deep and full. 
Forsooth, he would make a poor bargain in buying any kingship that I wot
of, so rich he is, yea, and mighty withal."

   Therewith were they come to the hostel of the Lamb which was the very
same house wherein Ralph and Allison had abided aforetime; and when they
were within doors Richard turned to the Sage and said: "Hail to thee,
reverend man!  wert thou forty years older to behold, outworn and forgotten
of death, I should have said that thou wert like to the Sage that dwelt
alone amidst the mountains nigh to Swevenham when I was a little lad, and
fearsome was the sight of thee unto me."

   The Sage laughed and said: "Yea, somewhat like am I yet to myself of
forty years ago.  Good is thy memory, greybeard."

   Then Richard shook his head, and spake under his breath: "Yea, then it
was no dream or coloured cloud, and he hath drank of the waters, and so
then hath my dear lord." Then he looked up bright-faced, and called on the
serving-men, and bade one lead them into a fair chamber, and another go
forth and provide a banquet to be brought in thither.

   So came in the banquet, which was richly served, as for a King's son,
and wine was poured forth of the best, and they feasted and were merry. 
And then Ralph told all the tale of his wanderings how it had betid,
bringing in all that little Allison had done to ward him from death at the
Dry Tree; while as for her she put in no word of it, but only smiled on him
now and again, and sat blushing like a rose over her golden-flowered gown,
being only a little girl and abashed amongst the men, for all that she had
drunken of the Well.  And Richard looked on her and praised her in his
heart exceedingly.

   At whiles, being only a little girl, and childish, and weary from the
road, did Allison play at some japes or other with her husband and master.
So did he stand and without ceremony bend her under his arm and toss up the
hem of her gown and her bare bottom did gleam in the firelight and well and
pleasing was the sight to the three men, and much did little Allison blush
to think that her 'grandfather' and the friend of her master could see her
so.  And brisk and businesslike was the spanking that Ralph gave her, but
went no farther at that time, but sat them back down with some little of
clipping and kissing, and little Allison stayed upon his lap and leaned her
head on his chest and was well content.  And so he resumed the tales of
their wanderings and deeds.

   But when Ralph had done the story (which was long, and interrupted by a
spanking for Allison as is told above, so that by then it was over it had
been dark night some while), Richard said: "Well, fosterling, thou hast
seen much, and done much, and many would say that thou art a lucky man, and
that more and much more lieth ready to thine hand.  Whither now wilt thou
wend, or what wilt thou do?"

   Ralph's face reddened, as its wont had been when it was younger, at
contention drawing nigh, and he answered: "Where then should I go save to
the House of my Fathers, and the fields that fed them?  What should I do
but live amongst my people, warding them from evil, and loving them and
giving them good counsel?  For wherefore should I love them less than
heretofore?  Have they become dastards, and the fools of mankind?"

   Quoth Richard: "They are no more fools than they were belike, nor less
valiant.  But thou art grown wiser and mightier by far; so that thou art
another manner man than thou wert, and the Master of Masters maybe.  To
Upmeads wilt thou go; but wilt thou abide there?  Upmeads is a fair land,
but a narrow; one day is like another there, save when sorrow and harm is
blent with it.  The world is wide, and now I deem that thou holdest the
glory thereof in the hollow of thine hand."

   Then spake the Sage, and said: "Yea, Richard of Swevenham, and how
knowest thou but that this sorrow and trouble have not now fallen upon
Upmeads And if that be so, upon whom should they call to their helping
rather than him who can help them most, and is their very lord?"

   Said Richard: "It may be so, wise man, though as yet we have heard no
tidings thereof.  But if my lord goeth to their help, yet, when the trouble
shall be over, will he not betake him thither where fresh deeds await him?"

   "Nay, Richard," said the Sage, "art thou so little a friend of thy
fosterling as not to know that when he hath brought back peace to the land,
it will be so that both he shall need the people, and they him, so that if
he go away for awhile, yet shall he soon come back?  Yea, and so shall the
little land, it may be, grow great."

   Now had Ralph sat quiet while this talk was going on, and as if he
heeded not, and his eyes were set as if he were beholding something far
away.  Then Richard spoke again after there had been silence awhile:

   "Wise man, thou sayest sooth; yea, and so it is, that though we here
have heard no tale concerning war in Upmeads, yet, as it were, we have been
feeling some stirring of the air about us; even as though matters were
changing, great might undone, and weakness grown to strength.  Who can say
but our lord may find deeds to hand or ever he come to Upmeads?"

   Ralph turned his head as one awaking from a dream, and he said: "When
shall to-morrow be, that we may get us gone from Whitwall, we three, and
turn our faces toward Upmeads?"

   Said Richard: "Wilt thou not tarry a day or two, and talk with thine own
mother's son and tell him of thine haps?"

   "Yea," said Ralph, "and so would I, were it not that my father's trouble
and my mother's grief draw me away."

   "O tarry not," said little Allison; "nay, not for the passing of the
night; but make this hour the sunrise, and begone by the clear of the moon.
For lo!  how he shineth through the window!"

   Then she turned to Richard, and said: "O fosterer of my love and my
master, knowest thou not that as now he speaketh as a Friend of the Well,
and wotteth more of far-off tidings than even this wise man of many years?"

   Said Ralph: "She sayeth sooth, O Richard.  Or how were it if the torch
were even now drawing nigh to the High House of Upmeads: yea, or if the
very House were shining as a dreary candle of the meadows, and reddening
the waters of the ford!  What do we here?"

   Therewith he thrust the board from him, and arose and went to his
harness, and fell to arming him, and he spake to Richard: "Now shall thine
authority open to us the gates of the good town, though the night be
growing old; we shall go our ways, dear friend, and mayhappen we shall meet
again, and mayhappen not: and thou shalt tell my brother Blaise who wotteth
not of my coming hither, how things have gone with me, and how need hath
drawn me hence.  And bid him come see me at Upmeads, and to ride with a
good band of proper men, for eschewing the dangers of the road."

   Then spake Richard: "I shall tell Lord Blaise neither more nor less than
thou mayst tell him thyself: for think it not that thou shalt go without
me. As for Blaise, he may well spare me; for he is become a chief and Lord
of the Porte; and the Porte hath now right good men-at-arms, and captains
withal younger and defter than I be.  But now suffer me to send a swain for
my horse and arms, and another to the captain of the watch at West-gate Bar
that he be ready to open to me and three of my friends, and to send me a
let-pass for the occasion.  So shall we go forth ere it be known that the
brother of the Lord of the Porte is abiding at the Lamb.  For verily I see
that thy little thrall and fair girl-wife hath spoken truth; and it is like
that she is forseeing, even as thou hast grown to be.  And now I bethink me
I might lightly get me a score of men to ride with us, whereas we may meet
men worse than ourselves on the way."

   Said Ralph: "All good go with thy words, Richard; yet gather not force:
there may stout men be culled on the road; and if thou runnest or ridest
about the town, we may yet be stayed by Blaise and his men.  Wherefore now
send for thine horse and arms, and bid the host here open his gates with
little noise when we be ready; and we will presently ride out by the clear
of the moon.  But thou, beloved, shalt don thine armour no more, but shalt
ride henceforth in thy woman's raiment, for the wild and the waste is well
nigh over, and the way is but short after all these months of wandering;
and I say that now shall all friends drift toward us, and they that shall
rejoice to strike a stroke for my father's son, and the peaceful years of
the Friend of the Well."

   To those others, and chiefly to Allison, it seemed that now he spoke
strongly and joyously, like to a king and a captain of men.  Richard did
his bidding, and was swift in dealing with the messengers.  But the Sage
said: "Ralph, my son, since ye have no man-at-arms, and have but this
little golden angel at your side, I may better that.  I prithee bid thy man
Richard find me armour and weapons that I may amend the shard in thy
company.  Thou shalt find me no feeble man when we come to push of staves."
Ralph laughed, and bade Richard see to it; so he dealt with the host,
and bought good war-gear of him, and a trenchant sword, and an axe withal;
and when the Sage was armed he looked as doughty a warrior as need be.  By
this time was Richard's horse and war-gear come, and he armed him speedily
and gave money to the host, and they rode therewith all four out of the
hostel, and found the street empty and still, for the night was wearing. 
So rode they without tarrying into Westgate and came to the Bar, and
speedily was the gate opened to them; and anon were they on the moonlit

road outside of Whitwall.

   On the road towards Upmeads they met with chapmen and other travelers
and had of them news, to wit, that Upmeads was like to be besieged at any
time if it was not all ready taken, and those who rode against it were
verily the men of none other than the Baron of the Four Friths, who cast
his net ever farther in search of spoils, and more, that the news of Ralph
and that he had become a Friend of the Well and was like to be a mighty man
had gone before, and he met with those who had erstwhile been rievers at
times, but were yet men of worth, who hight the Champions of the Dry Tree,
and with shepherds who prayed him to take them for his vassals, and when
they were told over they made five hundred and fifty and four, and Ralph
and the Sage went in front, and little Allison rode before Ralph, and men
were astonied at them and how goodly a man Ralph was, and his girl-thrall
like unto an angel amongst them, and the strength and pithiness of the Sage
eld though he was.

   On the morn that they expected to make Wulstead they gat them into array
for the road; and Ralph went afoot with no armour but his sallet, and a
light coat of fence which he had gotten him in Whitwall.  And Allison held
it for mirth and pleasure that she should go afoot through the land, now
she was so nigh come home to her lord's house; so she went forth by Ralph's
side with her broidered gown trussed through her girdle so that the
trimness of her feet, as well as her slenderness that near broke the heart,
drew the eyes of all men to them.  As for Richard, he took a half score of
the champions, and they rode on ahead to see that all was clear before the
main host; which he might well do, as he knew the country so well.

   Thus went they, and nought befell them to tell of till they came anigh
the gates of Wulstead hard on sunset.  The gates, it has been said; for
whereas Ralph left Wulstead a town unwalled, he now found it fenced with
pales, and with two towers strongly framed of timber, one on either side
the gate, and on the battlements of the said towers they saw spears
glittering; before the gate they saw a barrier of big beams also, and the
gleaming of armour therein.  Ralph was glad when he saw that they meant
some defence; for though Wulstead was not in the lands of Upmeads, yet it
was always a friendly neighbour, and he looked to eke out his host therein.

   Wulstead standeth on a little hill or swelling of the earth, and the
road that the company of Ralph took went up to the gate across the plain
meadows, which had but here and there a tree upon them, so that the going
of the company was beheld clearly from the gate; as was well seen, because
anon came the sound of the blowing of great horns, and the spears thickened
in the towers.  Then Ralph stayed his company two bowshots from the
barriers, while he himself, with his sword in his sheath, took little
Allison's hand and set forth an easy pace toward the gate.  Some of his
company, and specially Roger and Stephen, would have letted him; but he
laughed and said, "Why, lads, these be friends."

   "Yea," quoth Roger, "but an arrow knoweth no kindred nor well-willers:
have a care, lord."

   Said the Sage of Swevenham: "Ye speak but after the folly of men of war;
the hands and the eyes that be behind the bows have other hands and eyes
behind them which shall not suffer that a Friend of the Well shall be
hurt."

   So Ralph and his girl-thrall went forth, and came within a stone's cast
of the barrier, when Ralph lifted up his voice and said: "Is there a
captain of the townsfolk within the timber there?" A cheery voice answered
him: "Yea, yea, lad; spare thy breath; I am coming to thee."
And therewith a man came from out the barrier and did off his headpiece
and ran straight toward Ralph, who saw at once that it was Clement Chapman;
he made no more ado, but coming up to Ralph fell to clipping him in his
arms, while the tears ran down his face.  Then he stood aloof and gazed
upon him speechless a little while, and then spake: "Hail, and a hundred
times hail!  but now I look on thee I see what hath betid, and that thou
art too noble and high that I should have cast mine arms about thee.  But

now as for this one, I will be better mannered with her."

   Therewith he knelt down before little Allison, and kissed her hands, but
reverently.  And she clasped him by the hands and raised him up, with a
merry countenance kissed his face, and stroked his cheeks with her hand and
said: "Hail, friend of my lord!  Was it not rather thou than he who
delivered me from the pain and shame of thralldom, whereas thou didst help
him on his way?  And but for that there had been no Well, either for him or
for me."
But Clement stood with his head hanging down, and his face reddening. 
Till Ralph said to him: "Hail, friend!  many a time we thought of this
meeting when we were far away and hard bestead; but this is better than all
we thought of.  But now, Clement, hold up thine head and be a stout man of

war, for thou seest that we are not alone."

   Said Clement: "Yea, fair lord, and timely ye come, both thou and thy
company; and now that I have my speech again which joy hath taken away from
me at the first, I shall tell thee this, that if ye go further than the
good town ye shall be met and fought withal by men who are over-many and
over-fierce for us."

   "Yea," said Ralph, "and how many be they?"

   Quoth Clement: "How many men may be amongst them I wot not, but I deem
there be some two thousand devils.  And they say that the Baron of the Four
Friths himself is among them."

   Now Ralph reddened, and he took Clement by the shoulder, and said: "Tell
me, Clement, are they yet in Upmeads"

   "Sooth to say," said Clement, "by this while they may be therein; but
this morn it was yet free of them; and thy gossip has told us much in this
matter, for as thou knowst she is foreseeing."

   Then spake Ralph: "Where are my father and my mother, and what has
become of them with the dogs of war nipping at their heels?"

   Said Clement, and therewith his face brightened: "Thou needest go no
further to look for them than the House of Black Canons within our walls:
there are they dwelling in all honour and dignity these two days past."

   "What!" said Ralph, "have they fled from Upmeads, and left the High
House empty?"

   "Verily," said Clement, "they have fled, with many another, women and
children and old men, who should but hinder the carles who have abided
behind.  Nicholas Longshanks is the leader of them down there, and the High
House is their stronghold in a way; though forsooth their stout heads and
strong hands are better defence."

   Here Ralph brake in: "Sweetling Allison, though thy feet have worn a
many miles to-day, I bid thee hasten back to the company and tell Richard
that it is as I said, to wit, that friends, and provisions await them; so
let them hasten hither and come within gates at once.  For as for me, I
have sworn it that I will not go one step back till I have seen my father
and mother in their house of Upmeads.  Is it well said, Clement?"

   "Yea, forsooth," said Clement; but he could not take his eyes off little
Allison's slender body, as she kilted her skirts and ran her ways like one
of Diana's faeries in the wildwood.  At last he said, "Thou shalt wot, fair
sir, that ye will have a little band to go with thee from us of Wulstead;
forsooth we had gone to-morrow morn in any case, but since thou art here,
all is well." Even as he spake a great shout broke out from the company as
Allison had given her message, and then came the tramp of men and horses
and the clash of weapons as they set forward; and Clement looked and beheld
how first of all the array came Allison, bearing a pennant in her hand; for
her heart also was set on what was to come.  Then cried out Clement: "Happy
art thou, lord, and happy shalt thou be, and who shall withstand thee Lo!
what a war-duke it is!  and what a little leader that marches with fate in
her small hands before thine host!"

   Therewith were they all joined together, and Allison gave the guisarme
into Ralph's hand, and with his other hand he took hers, and the bar of the
barrier was lifted and the gates thrown open, and they all streamed into
the street, the champions coming last and towering over the footmen as they
sat, big men on their big horses, as if they were very bodyguards of the
God of War.

   Much did Ralph long to see his father and mother again, and yea his
gossip Dame Katherine, but he spake unto his men, and Clement, and the
Sage, and Richard, saying:

   "Gain thee what provender is needed, for thyselves and thy mounts, and
replenish thy gear.  Then drive we in the shortest way for Upmeads, for the
foe awaits us!" And they with one voice yeasaid him.

   Yet before they set off, Ralph walked up and down the ranks of the stout
men of the Down-country, and saw how they had but little armour for
defence, though their weapons for cutting and thrusting looked fell and
handy.  So presently he turned about to their leader, who bore a long
hauberk, and said: "Friend, the walk we are on to-day is a long one for
carrying burdens, and an hour after sunrise it will be hot.  Wilt thou not
do with thy raiment as I do" And therewith he did off his hauberk and his
other armour save his sallet.  "This is good," said he, "for the sun to
shine on, so that I may be seen from far; but these other matters are good
for folk who fight a-horseback or on a wall; we striders have no need of
them."

   Then arose great shouting from the Shepherds, and men stretched out the
hand to him and called hail on his valiant heart.

   Then the horns blew for departure, and they went their ways out of the
market-place, and out into the fields through the new wooden wall of
Wulstead.  Richard led the way with a half score of the Champions, but he
rode but a little way before Ralph, who marched at the head of the
Shepherds.

   So they went in the fresh morning over the old familiar fields, and
strange it seemed to Ralph that he was leading an host into the little land
of Upmeads.  Speedily they went, though in good order, and it was but soon
that they were wending toward the brow of the little hill whence they would
look down into the fair meads whose image Ralph had seen on so many days of
peril and weariness.

   And now Richard and his fore-riders had come up on to the brow and sat
there on their horses clear against the sky; and Ralph saw how Richard drew
his sword from the scabbard and waved it over his head, and he and his men
shouted; when the whole host set up a great shout, and hastened up the
bent, but with the end of their shout and the sound of the tramp of their
feet and the rattle of their war-gear was mingled a confused noise of cries
a way off, and the blowing of horns, and as Ralph and his company came
crowding up on to the brow, he looked down and saw the happy meadows black
with weaponed men, and armour gleaming in the clear morning, and the points
of weapons casting back the low sun's rays and glittering like the sparks
in a dying fire of straw.  Then again he looked, and lo!  the High House
rising over the meadows unburned and unhurt, and the banner of the fruited
tree hanging forth from the topmost tower thereof.

   Then he felt a hand slip into his grasp, and lo, little Allison beside
him, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittering; and she cried out: "O
thine home, my beloved master, thine home!"

   And he turned to her and said; "Yea, presently, sweetheart!"

   "Ah," she said, "will it be long?  and they so many!"

   "And we so mighty!" said Ralph.  "Nay, it will be but a little while. 
Wise man of Swevenham, see to it that my beloved is anigh me to-day, for
where I am, there will be safety."

   The Sage nodded yeasay and smiled.

   Then Ralph looked along the ridge to right and left of him, and saw that
all the host had come up and had a sight of the foemen; on the right stood
the Shepherds staring down into the meadow and laughing for the joy of
battle and the rage of the oppressed.  On the left sat the Champions of the
Dry Tree on their horses, and they also were tossing up their weapons and
roaring like lions for the prey; and down below the black crowd had drawn
together into ordered ranks, and still the clamour and rude roaring of the
warriors arose thence, and beat against the hill's brow.

   Now so fierce and ready were the men of Ralph's company that it was a
near thing but that they, and the Shepherds in especial, did not rush
tumultuously down the hill all breathless and in ill order.  But Ralph
cried out to Richard to go left, and the leader of the Shepherds, who hight
Giles, to go right, and stay the onset for a while; and to bid the leaders
come to him where he stood.  Then the tumult amidst his folk lulled, and
the leader of the Champions of the Dry Tree, who hight Roger, and three
others of the Dry Tree came to him, and Giles brought three of the
Shepherds, and there was Clement and a fellow of his.  So when they were
come and standing in a ring round Ralph, he said to them:

   "Brothers in arms, ye see that our foes are all in array to meet us,
having had belike some spy in Wulstead, who hath brought them the tale of
what was toward.  Albeit methinks that this irks not either you nor me; for
otherwise we might have found them straggling, and scattered far and wide,
which would have made our labour the greater.  Now ye can see with your
eyes that they are many more than we be, even were Nicholas to issue out of
the High House against them, as doubtless he will do if need be.  Brethren,
though they be so many, yet my heart tells me that we shall overcome them;
yet if we leave our strength and come down to them, both our toil shall be
greater, and some of us, belike many, shall be slain; and evil should I
deem it if but a score of my friends should lose their lives on this joyous
day when at last I see Upmeads again after many troubles.  Wherefore my
rede is that we abide their onset on the hillside here; and needs must they
fall on us, whereas we have Wulstead and friends behind us, and they nought
but Nicholas and the bows and bills of the High House.  But if any have
aught to say against it let him speak, but be speedy; for already I see a
stir in their array, and I deem that they will send men to challenge us to
come down to them."

   Then spake Stephen a-Hurst: "I, and we all meseemeth, deem that thou art
in the right, Captain; though sooth to say, when we first set eyes on these
dogs again, the blood so stirred in us that we were like to let all go and
ride down on them."

   Said Richard: "Thou biddest us wisdom of war; let them have the hill
against them." And in like wise said they all.

   Then spake Stephen again: "Lord, since thou wilt fight afoot with our
friends of the Shepherds, we of the Dry Tree are minded to fare in like
wise and to forego our horses; but if thou gainsay it----"

   "Champion," said Ralph, "I do gainsay it.  Thou seest how many of them
be horsed, and withal ye it is who must hold the chase of them; for I will
that no man of them shall escape."

   They laughed joyously at his word, and then he said: "Go now, and give
your leaders of scores and tens the word that I have said, and come back
speedily for a little while; for now I see three men sundering them from
their battle, and one beareth a white cloth at the end of his spear; these
shall be the challengers."

   So they did after his bidding, and by then they had come back to Ralph
those three men were at the foot of the hill, which was but low.  Then
Ralph said to his captains: "Stand before me, so that I be not seen of them
until one of you hath made answer, 'Speak of this to our leader and
captain.'" Even so they did; and presently those three came so nigh that
they could see the whites of their eyes.  They were all three well armed,
but the foremost of them was clad in white steel from head to foot, so that
he looked like a steel image, all but his face, which was pale and sallow
and grim.  He and his two fellows, when they were right nigh, rode slowly
all along the front of Ralph's battles thrice, and none spake aught to
them, and they gave no word to any; but when they came over against the
captains who stood before Ralph for the fourth time, they reined up and
faced them, and the leader put back his sallet and spake in a great and
rough voice:

   "Ye men!  I am the Baron of the Four Friths!.  We have heard these three
hours that ye were coming, wherefore we have drawn out into the meads which
we have taken, that ye might see how many and how valiant we be, and might
fear us.  Wherefore now, ye broken reivers of the Dry Tree, ye silly
shepherds of silly sheep, ye weavers and apprentices of Wulstead, and if
there by any more, ye fools!  we give you two choices this morn.  Either
come down to us into the meadow yonder, that we may slay you with less
labour, or else, which will be the better for you, give up to us the
Upmeads thralls who be with you, and then turn your faces and go back to
your houses, and abide there till we come and pull you out of them, which
may be some while yet.  Hah!  what say ye, fools?"

   Then spake Clement and said: "Ye lord of the robbers and oppressors, why
make ye this roaring to the common people and the sergeants Why speak ye
not with our Captain?"

   Cried out the Baron, "Where then is the Captain of the Fools?  is he
hidden?  can he hear my word?"

   Scarce was it out of his mouth ere the captains fell away to right and
left, and there, standing by himself, was Ralph, holding his war-staff; his
head was bare, for now he had done off his sallet, and the sun and the wind
played in his bright hair; glorious was his face, and his grey eyes gleamed
with wrath and mastery as he spake in a clear voice, and there was silence
all along the ranks to hearken him:

   "O Baron of robbers!  I am the captain of this folk.  I see that the
voice hath died away within the jaws of you; but it matters not, for I have
heard thy windy talk, and this is the answer: we will neither depart, nor
come down to you, but will abide our death by your hands here on this
hill-side.  Go with this answer."

   The man stared wild at Ralph while he was speaking, and seemed to
stagger in his saddle; and one of the men with him started and stared at
Ralph as at a very ghost, for the man was the Baron's 'sorcerer', and well
he recognized the warrior who had bereaved him of his little thrall; then
the Baron let his sallet fall over his face, and, turning his horse about,
rode swiftly, he and his two fellows, down the hill and away to the battle
of those of the Four Friths.  None followed or cried after him; for now had
a great longing and expectation fallen upon Ralph's folk, and they abode
what shall befall with little noise.  They noted so soon as the Baron was
gotten to the main of the foemen that there was a stir amongst them, and
they were ordering their ranks to move against the hill.  And withal they
saw men all armed coming from out the High House, who went down to the
Bridge and abode there.  Upmeads-water ran through the meadows betwixt the
hill and the High House, as hath been said afore; but as it winded along,
one reach of it went nigh to the House, and made wellnigh a quarter of a
circle about it before it turned to run down the meadows to the eastward;
and at this nighest point was there a wide bridge well builded of stone.

   The Frith-devils heeded not the men at the Bridge, but, being all
arrayed, made but short tarrying (and that belike only to hear the commands
of their Baron) ere they came in two battles straight across the meadow. 
They on their right were all riders, and these faced the Champions of the
Dry Tree, but a great battle of footmen came against the Shepherds and the
rest of Ralph's footmen, but in their rearward was a company of well-horsed
men-at-arms; and all of them were well armed and went right orderly and
warrior-like.

   It was but some fifteen minutes ere they were come to the foot of the
hill, and they fell to mounting it with laughter and mockery, but Ralph's
men held their peace.  The horsemen were somewhat speedier than those on
foot, though they rode but at a foot's pace, and when they were about
halfway up the hill and were faltering a little (for it was somewhat steep,
though nought high), the Champions of the Dry Tree could forbear them no
longer, but set up a huge roar, and rode at them, so that they all went
down the hill together, but the Champions were lost amidst of the huge mass
of the foemen.

   But Ralph was left at the very left end of his folk, and the foemen came
up the hill speedily with much noise and many foul mocks as aforesaid, and
they were many and many more than Ralph's folk, and now that the Champions
were gone, could have enfolded them at either end; but no man of the
company blenched or faltered, only here and there one spake soft to his
neighbour, and here and there one laughed the battle-laugh.

   Now at the hanging of the hill, whenas either side could see the whites
of the foemen's eyes, the robbers stayed a little to gather breath; and in
that nick of time Ralph strode forth into the midst between the two lines
and up on to a little mound on the hill-side (which well he knew), and he
lifted up his guisarme, and cried on high: "Home now!  Home to Upmeads!"

   Then befell a marvel, for even as all eyes of the foemen were turned on
him, straightway their shouts and jeering and laughter fell dead, and then
gave place to shrieks and wailing, as all they who beheld him cast down
their weapons and fled wildly down the hill, overturning whatever stood in
their way, till the whole mass of them was broken to pieces, and the hill
was covered with nought but cravens and the light-footed Shepherds
slaughtering them in the chase.

   But Ralph called Clement to him and they drew a stalworth band together,
and, heeding nought the chase of the runaways, they fell on those who had
the Champions in their midst, and fell to smiting down men on either hand;
and every man who looked on Ralph crouched and cowered before him, casting
down his weapons and throwing up his hands.  Shortly to say it, when these
horsemen felt this new onset, and looking round saw their men fleeing
hither and thither over the green fields of Upmeads, smitten by the
Shepherds and leaping into the deep pools of the river, they turned and
fled, every man who could keep his saddle, and made for the Bridge, the Dry
Tree thundering at their backs.  But even as they came within bowshot, a
great flight of arrows came from the further side of the water, and the
banner of the Fruitful Tree came forth from the bridge-end with Nicholas
and his tried men-at-arms behind it; and then indeed great and grim was the
murder, and the proud men of the Friths grovelled on the ground and prayed
for mercy till neither the Champions nor the men of Nicholas could smite
helpless men any longer.

   Now had Ralph held his hand from the chase, and he was sitting on a
mound amidst of the meadow under an ancient thorn, and beside him sat the
Sage of Swevenham and little Allison.  And she was grown pale now and
looked somewhat scared, and at whiles she hid her face in the arm of her
'grandfather', who held her on his horse, and she spake in a trembling
voice to Ralph, and said:

   "Alas master!  that this should be so grim!  When we hear the owls
a-nighttime about the High House, shall we not deem at whiles that it is
the ghosts of this dreadful battle and slaughter wandering about our fair
fields?"

   But Ralph spake sternly and wrathfully as he sat there bareheaded and
all unarmed save for the staff:

   "Why did they not slay me then?  Better the ghosts of robbers in our
fields by night, than the over-burdened hapless thrall by day, and the
scourged woman, and ruined child.  These things they sought for us and have
found death on the way-- let it be!"

   And now there come riding across the field two warriors.  They draw rein
by the mound, and one lights down, and lo!  It is Long Nicholas; and he
took Ralph in his arms, and kissed him and wept over him for all his
grizzled beard and his gaunt limbs; but few words he had for him, save
this: "My little Lord, was it thou that was the wise captain to-day, or
this stout lifter and reiver!"

   But the other man was Stephen a-Hurst, who laughed and said: "Nay,
Nicholas, I was the fool, and this stripling the wise warrior.  But, Lord
Ralph, thou wilt pardon me, I hope, but we could not kill them all, for
they would not fight in any wise; what shall we do with them?" Ralph knit
his brows and thought a little; then he said:

   "How many hast thou taken"

   Said Stephen: "Some two hundred alive."

   "Well," quoth Ralph; "strip them of all armour and weapons, and let a
score of thy riders drive them back the way they came into the Debateable
Wood.  But give them this last word from me, that or long I shall clear the
said wood of all strong-thieves."

   Stephen departed on that errand; and presently comes Giles and another
of the Shepherds with a like tale, and had a like answer.

   Presently Ralph arose and took Allison by the hand, and said: "Beloved,
we must needs ride back to Wulstead to bring hither my father and mother,
as I meant to do after the battle.  In good sooth, I deemed it would have
lasted longer."

   Said Allison: "Dear master, this is even what I should have bidden
myself, for sorely do I long to enter thine house, beloved." Then Ralph
turned to Nicholas, and said:

   "Our host is not so great but that thou mayst victual it well; yet I
deem it is little less than when we left Wulstead early this morning."

   "True is that, little lord," said Nicholas.  "Hear a wonder amongst
battles: of thy Shepherds and the other footmen is not one slain, and but
some five hurt.  The Champions have lost three men slain outright, and some
fifteen hurt, and few sorely."
"Better than well is thy story then," said Ralph.  "Now let them bring
me my horse." So when he was horsed, he took Allison before him and they
went their way, and Clement Chapman rode ahead of them and came to Wulstead

before them.

   Thus came they into the market-place of Wulstead nigh to Clement's
house, and the Ralph looked round about half expecting to see his gossip
standing in the door; but Clement came to the door and smiled and said:

   "Thou art looking round for thy gossip, fair sir; but she bids thee seek
they mother and father first, and she shall be here against thou comest
back from the Austin Canons, wither forsooth thou mayst go at once if thou
wilt let me be master in this matter."

   Said Ralph, smiling: "Well, Ring of Wulstead, since thou givest leave I
will e'en take it, nor needest thou give me any guide to the House of St.
Austin, for I know it well.  Sweetheart," said he, turning to Allison,
"what sayest thou: wilt thou come with me, so that I may show thee to my
kinsmen?"

   "Yea," she said, "I will with thee at once, my lord, if thou wilt be
kind and take me; for meseemeth I also have a word to say to thy father,
and the mother that bore thee." And Ralph took little Allison's hand and
went his way with her.

   It was but a few minutes for them to come to the House of the Canons,
which was well walled toward the fields at the west of the town, so that it
was its chief defence of that side.  It was a fair house with a church but
just finished, and Ralph could see down the street its new white pinnacles
and the cross on its eastern gable rising over the ridge of the dortoir. 
They came to the gate, and round about it were standing men-at-arms not a
few, who seemed doughty enough at first sight; but when Ralph looked on
them he knew some of them, that they were old men, and somewhat past
warlike deeds, for in sooth they were carles of Upmeads.  Him they knew
not, for he had somewhat cast down the visor of his helm; but they looked
eagerly on the sweet and slender girl-child and the goodly knight.

   So Ralph spake to the porter and bade him show him where was King Peter
of Upmeads and his Lady wife; and the porter made him obeisance and told
him that they were in the church, wherein was service toward; and bade him
enter.  So they went in and entered the church, and it was somewhat dim,
because the sun was set, and there were many pictures, and knots of flowers
in the glass of the windows.

   So they went halfway down the nave, and stood together there; and the
whole church was full of the music that the minstrels were making in the
rood-loft, and most heavenly sweet it was; and as Ralph stood there his
heart heaved with hope and love and the sweetness of his youth; and he
looked at little Allison, and she hung her head, and he saw that her
shoulders were shaken with sobs; but he knew that it was with her as with
him, so he spake no word to her.

   Now when his eyes cleared and he was used to the twilight of the church,
he looked toward the choir, and saw near to the Jesus altar a man and a
woman standing together even as they were standing, and they were somewhat
stricken in years.  So presently he knew that this would be his father and
mother; so he stood still and waited till the service should be over; and
by then it was done the twilight was growing fast in the church, and the
sacristan was lighting a lamp here and there in some of the chapels, and
the aisles of the choir.

   So King Peter and his wife turned and came slowly down the nave, and
when they were come anigh, Ralph spake aloud, and said: "Hail, King Peter
of Upmeads!" And the old man stopped and said unto him: "Yea, forsooth, my
name is Peter, and my business is to be a king, or a kinglet rather; and
once it seemed no such hard craft; but now it all goes otherwise, and
belike my craft has left me; even as it fares with a leech when folk are
either too well or too ill to need his leech-craft."

   Then he looked at Ralph and at Allison, and said: "Either my eyes are
worse than I deemed yesterday, or thou art young, and a gallant knight, and
she that is standing by thee is a most fair girl-child, mayhap thy daughter
or beloved thrall.  Ah, lad!  time was when I would have bid thee come
home, thou and thy little sweetling, to my house with me, and abide there
in ease and feastfully; but now the best rede I can give thee is to get
thee gone from the land, for there is all unpeace in it.  And yet,
forsooth, friend, I know not where to send thee to seek for peace, since
Upmeads hath failed us."

   While he spoke, and Ralph was sore moved by the sound of his voice, and
his speech wherein kindness and mocking was so blended, the Dame of Upmeads
came to Ralph and laid her hand on his arm, and said in a pleasant voice,
for she was soft-hearted and soft-spoken both: "Will not the fair young
warrior and his little one do so much for an old man and his wife, who have
heard not tidings of their best beloved son for two years well nigh, as to
come with them to their chamber, and answer a little question or two as to
the parts of the world they have seen of late?"

   Ralph nodded yeasay and began to move toward the porch, the Dame of
Upmeads sticking close to him all the time, and King Peter following after
and saying: "Yea, young man, thou mayst think the worse of me for hanging
about here amongst the monks, when e'en now, for all I know, the battle is
pitched in Upmeads; but Nicholas and all of them would have it so--Yea, and
all my sons are away, fair sir; though of the eldest, who meseems was born
with a long head, we hear that he is thriving, and hath grown great."

   As he spake they were come into the porch, and passed into the open air,
where it was still light; then the Dame turned round on Ralph and caught
him by the two arms and cried out and cast her arms about his neck; and
when she could sunder herself a little from him, she said: "O Ralph, I
deemed that I knew thy voice, but I durst not halse thee till I knew it was
mine own flesh and blood, lest I should have died for grief to think it was
thee when it was not.  O son, how fair thou art!  Now do off thy sallet
that I may see thee, thy face and thy curly head."

   So did he, smiling as one who loved her, and again she fell to kissing
and clipping him.  Then his father came up and thrust her aside gently and
embraced him also, and said: "Tell me, son, what thou are become?  Thou art
grown much of a man since thou stolest thyself away from me.  Is there
aught behind this goodly raiment of thine?  And this fair young one, hath
she stolen thee away from thy foes to bring thee home to us?"

   Ralph laughed and said: "No less than that, father; I will tell thee all
presently; but this first, that I am the captain of a goodly company of
men-at-arms; and"----"Ah, son, sweetheart," said his mother, "and thou wilt
be going away from us again to seek more fame: and yet, as I look on thee
thou seemest to have grown great enough already.  I deem thou wilt not
leave us."

   "Mother, my dear," said Ralph, "I come back from battle in Upmeads, and
the day is won, and I have come hither again, to bring you back to the High
House with all honour and glory.  But look, mother," and he took Allison's
hand, "here is a grand-daughter and a darling that I have brought back to
thee, for this is my war-taken thrall and new wedded wife."

   Then Allison looked beseechingly at the Dame, who took her in her arms
and clipped her and kissed her; and said, "Welcome, granddaughter; for I
feel thy body that thou lovest me."

   Then said King Peter; "Forsooth, son, she is a sweet and dainty
creature. If there be a fairer than her, I wot not; but none so fair have
mine eyes looked on." And therewith he took her hand and kissed her.

   Then spoke Ralph: "Father and mother both, I may well thank thee and
bless thee that your eyes look upon this half of me with kind eyes."

   Then the Dame of Upmeads put her arms about Allison's shoulders again,
and bade her all welcome once more, with sweet words of darling and dear,
and well-beloved granddaughter.

   But King Peter said: "Son, thou hast not told me what thou are become;
and true it is that thou hast the look of a great one."

   Said Ralph: "Father and King, I be the Conqueror of the robbers and the
devils of the Frith.  And this be not enough for me, hearken!  I and my
little girl-wife both, have drunk of the Well at the World's End, and have
become Friends thereof."

   And he looked at his father with looks of love, and his father drew nigh
to him again, and embraced him once more, and stroked his cheeks and kissed
him as if he had become a child again: "O son," said he, "whatsoever thou
dost, that thou dost full well.  And lo, one while when I look on thee thou
art my dear and sweet child, as thou wert years agone, and I love thee
dearly and finely; and another while thou art a great and mighty man, and I
fear thee; so much greater thou seemest than we poor upland folk."

   Then smiled Ralph for love and happiness, and he said: "Father, I am thy
child in the house and at the board, and that is for thine helping.  And I
am thy champion and the fierce warrior afield, and that also is for thine
helping.  Be of good cheer; for thine house shall not wane, but wax."

   And all those four were full of joy and their hearts were raised aloft.

   But as they spake thus came a lay-brother and bent the knee before King
Peter and bade him and the Dame of Upmeads to supper in the name of the
Prior, and the Captain and the Lady therewith; for indeed the rumour of the
coming of an host for the helping of the countryside had gotten into that
House, and the Prior and the brethren sorely desired to look upon the
Captain, not knowing him for Ralph of Upmeads.  So into the Hall they went
together, and there the holy fathers made them great feast and joy; and
King Peter might not refrain him, but told the Prior how this was his son
come back from far lands, and how he had beaten the Baron of the Four
Friths and his men; and the Prior and all the fathers made much of Ralph,
and rejoiced in their hearts when they saw how goodly a man of war he had
gotten to be.  And the Prior would lead him on to tell him of the marvels
he had seen in the far parts of the world; and Ralph replied and said:

   "Father, when my father and mother be back in their own house, and all
is set in order, I may ask thee to give me guesting for a night, that I may
tell thee all the tale of what hath befallen me since the last summer day
when I rode through Wulstead.  But now I beg thee and my parents to give me
leave, for there is one other that I must visit in Wulstead ere we return
to Upmeads."

   So the Prior gave him leave, loth though he were, and Ralph kissed his
father and mother, and they blessed him.

   Ralph and little Allison went straight from St.  Austin's to Clement's
house, and found much people about the door thereof, what of the townsmen
who had by now heard of the tidings of victory, and loudly they hailed
Ralph, and it was only with difficulty that he passed through these, and
saw lights in the chamber or ever they entered, and when they came to the
door, lo!  there within was Katherine walking up and down the floor as if
she knew not how to contain herself.  She turned and saw Ralph at the door,
and she cried aloud and ran towards him with arms outspread.  But when she
drew nigh to him and beheld him closely, she withheld her, and falling down
on her knees before him took his hand and fell to kissing it and weeping
and crying out, "O my lord, my lord, thou art come again to us!"

   But Ralph stooped down to her, and lifted her up, and embraced her and
kissed her on the cheeks and the mouth, and led her to the settle and sat
down beside her and put his arm about her; and Clement looked on smiling,
and sat him down over against them.

   Then spake Katherine: "O my lord!  how great and masterful hast thou
grown; never did I hope to see thee come back so mighty a man." And again
she wept for joy; but Ralph kissed her again, and she said, laughing
through her tears: "Master Clement, this lord and warrior hath brought back
with him something that I have not seen; and belike he hath had one fair
girl in his arms, or more it may be, since I saw him last.  For though he
but kisses me as his gossip and foster-mother, yet are his kisses closer
and kinder than they were aforetime."

   Then she looked and beheld little Allison, and her heart went out to
her, and she gathered her into her arms, and said:

   "And lo, here is the reason for it, for this fair youngling is beyond
doubt thy beloved, is she not?" And she was fain and blithe with her, and
Allison clung to her as she were her mother long-lost.

   And Ralph replied and said:

   "Yea, gossip, she is my little girl-wife, and my war-taken thrall, and
she is a Friend of the Well, and will be my little Queen for many a long
year.  But how has it thriven with thee since last we met, which now has
been near a year ago?  For I perceive that thou hast somewhat now that long
thou had lacked, is it not so?"

   And Dame Katherine spoke no word, but passed into an inner chamber, and
returned with a bundle.  And when she drew close Ralph and Allison could
see that she bore a child, to wit a babe of three months, and he was a
boychild, and fair to look upon.  And Clement Chapman spoke and said:

   "Verily, my prince and lord, we deem that this our child, who hight
Ralph thou shouldst know, is near as much thine as ours, for surely was he
conceived on the day in which thou did exercise the droit de seigneur in
discipline of my loving but errant lady, and if thy seed went not in thy
womb, something there was in thy punishment-raping of her anus that drove
my seed into it, for long had we striven to conceive and yet she was barren
until that day." And much joy did these four have with each other and this
fair babe, and little Allison was fain to bear him for as long as Dame
Katherine would let her, and his mother averred that the girl should hold
him at the font at his christening which was to be the next month.

   Then did they spend much time in tales of their adventures and the time
that had passed.  And ere long Ralph looked upon little Allison, who sat in
Clement Chapman's lap as if he were her grandfather, and he nothing loth
for as slender and fair as she was, and at Dame Katherine, who stroked the
cheek of little Allison, and laid her head first on Ralph's shoulder, then
on the Goodman's, and he spake, saying:

   "Master Clement, is my gossip thy lady still as errant as ever?  And
forsooth my little girl-thrall is naught and very naught.  And perhaps it
would be meet that thou shouldst discipline her, being the very master of
this house?  And it is not to be denied that I would fain punish the fair
woman who is e'en the lady thereof." And Clement yeasaid this with a will,
and sooth to say the little girl and the fair woman made objections of a
token nature only, and Dame Katherine took little Allison into an inner
chamber and made good use of the sheep's bladder and the carven nozzle on
the girl and herself, and soon the twain of them were bound mother-naked to
the White Pillar of the house.  And Master Clement took a tawse that hung
from the wall, and Ralph his belt, and they did discipline them, and
Clement's tawse brought the faint red flush to the ten-year-old girl's
thighs and buttocks, and the soft cries to her lips, and Ralph's belt did
likewise to the fair woman's.  And after some while of this whipping-cheer
they did pause, and each took the one he chastised in his arms, and made
much of her, and caressed and kissed her, and pinched and twisted her
nipples, and hefted even the cleft-lips of her and molested the clitoris
thereof, so that the wetness did spring to her nether regions, and she did
moan and come nigh to climax.

   Then did the men take and bind the little girl and the fair woman
backwards to the Pillar, so that their charms were displayed in the
firelight, and they blushed to be so exposed, and Dame Katherine's breasts
heaved, and the nipples erect thereon, and though she had born and suckled
a child, still were her paps firm and high; and her cleft all bare and
unfledged, for so would her husband and master have it.  And little Allison
looked like an angel in despair from her discipline, with the look of
passion upon her face and the tears starting in her eyes, though forsooth
as strong a man as Clement was he was nought but gentle in his punishment
of her nakedness; and her nipples erect atop her breastbuds, and her puffy
cleftlips framed between her thighs, and the swollen clitoris thereof
visible twixt them.

   Then came the front-whipping, with the loving strokes laid upon nipple,
and breast, and breast-bud, and the front of their thighs, and lo even the
mons and cleftlips and the clitoris thereof, and little Allison's cries
like unto a songbird's did mingle with Dame Katherine's contralto, and fain
were the men to see and hear their beloveds' passion so aroused as they
writhed and moaned.  And when they were come to their peak they bound them
again facing the Pillar, and bent over the stanchion, and they took their
rods from their breeches, and they were rampant, and the sweet oil was
dropped upon their clenching anuses, and Ralph thrust his manhood into
Katherine's nether aperture as she cried out wildly, and forsooth did the
touch of his member inflame her more than it had before, for he was a
Friend of the Well, and little Allison felt Clement Chapman's tool invade
and violate her deeply as he took her and took her and she came near to
screaming and fainting, and he groaned with pleasure to feel the tightness
and soft warmth of her tender anus, and the feel of it near sent him to
frenzy, for she also was a Friend of the Well.  And the men did reach
around the waists of the lovely objects of their ministrations and seized
each one her clitoris, and what with the punishment they had already
received, and the manhood of each invading their intimacy, and the pinching
and twisting of each one's clit, full soon they were lost in the throes of
climax, and spent and spent, and cried out, and spent yet again, and the
men groaned and took great pleasure in their duties, and spilled each his
seed, Ralph inside Dame Katherine, and Clement Chapman into the little
ten-year-old.

   Then did they loose their precious victims, and there was the kissing
and the clipping, first of Clement with Allison and Ralph with Katherine,
then each man with his own mate, and fain and blithe they were with each
other for that time.

   And afterwards Ralph took his mother and his father, and his beloved
war-taken thrall and girl-wife Allison, and wended his way back to Upmeads
and its high house, and much was made of them by all the folk, and great
was the rejoicing as King Peter yielded his throne with all good will to
his son Ralph, and long and joyful was his reign, and it is told of Ralph
of Upmeads that he ruled over his lands in right and might, and suffered no
oppression within them, and delivered other lands and good towns when they
fell under tyrants and oppressors; and for as kind a man as he was in hall
and at hearth, in the field he was a warrior so wise and dreadful, that oft
forsooth the very sound of his name and rumour of his coming stayed the
march of hosts and the ravage of fair lands; and no lord was ever more
beloved.  The new folk of the Burg of the Four Friths made him their lord
and captain, and the Champions of the Dry Tree obeyed him in all honour so
long as any of them lasted.  Ever was he true captain and brother to the
Shepherd-folk, and in many battles they followed him; and were there any
scarcity or ill hap amongst them, he helped them to the uttermost of his
power.  The Wood Debateable also he cleared of foul robbers and reivers,
and rooted out the last of the Friths-devils, and delivered three good
towns beyond the wood from the cruelty of the oppressor.

   Certain it is that Ralph failed not of his promise to the good Prior of
St.  Austin's at Wulstead, but went to see him speedily, and told him all
the tale of his wanderings as closely as he might, and hid naught from him;
which, as ye may wot, was more than one day's work or two or three.  And
ever when Ralph thus spoke was a brother of the House sitting with the
Prior, which brother was a learned and wise man and very speedy and deft
with his pen.  Wherefore it has been deemed not unlike that from this
monk's writing has come the more part of the tale above told.  And if it be
so, it is well.

   And as for little Allison, e'en though she bore eight children to King
Ralph, for many a long year did she appear in body as a girl of ten
summers, and fain was her master and 'father' and husband to discipline her
sweet and tender flesh so that she moaned and was forced to
punishment-orgasm, and every night did he rape her afresh of her maidenhead
so that she did cry out wildly and writhe with passion.  And while she was
wise as the Sage in some ways, in others she maintained still the mind of a
child, and was a delight to her lord and master, her 'father', her husband,
and they lived happily ever after.

   The End of the Knight, the War-Taken Thrall, and THE WELL AT THE WORLD'S
END

   By cc

   I sure hope someone reads this and likes it.  All comments gleefully
welcomed.
   ccccc12345@lavabit.com