165

"Could this information be correct?" Blackthorne demanded of Ian. He had finished reading Teárlag's letter as Bonnie sucked his cock. "Could Thorburn really turn his training over to this chit of a girl?"

Ian shrugged his shoulders and Blackthorne grabbed a handful of Bonnie's hair and dragged her off his cock.

"Have you seen this?" He commanded, holding the letter in her face. "Is Lady Ailene really training Cameron's soldiers?"

"She does seem to be training them, Lord. She speaks to them of what she expects and they seem to follow her instructions," Bonnie replied, drool running down her chin.

"They listen to her?" Blackthorne asked. "These men listen to her?"

"I know nothing of warfare, Lord, but they do seem to listen to her, very respectfully."

"Where is this information coming from?"

"Lady Mackintosh has gathered it all sir. She meets with the family almost every night. They had another meeting last night. It is hard for any of the rest of us to get any information. They don't speak of it at all. I believe they know there are spies in the Keep, sir. They've threatened all of us if they catch someone snooping or being somewhere they don't belong. We have to be extremely careful, sir."

Blackthorne thrust her back down on his cock. Bonnie started moaning as she'd heard Teárlag do last night, trying to entice Blackthorne to release in her mouth. Her knees were getting sore.

"What is there about this woman, Ian? Why would Thorburn trust her to train his men? She's young, has absolutely no military experience and she's barely started training herself. Is this another deception? And to what purpose?"

"I don't know, Lord. Perhaps we can ask her if we can capture her."

"Are you familiar with the glade she mentioned?"

"I believe so, Lord. As far as I can tell, there's only one with a pond. It's fairly close to the Keep, less than a mile."

"Do you think we can take her if she's out there or is it a trap?"

"It may very well be a trap, Lord, but it's a dangerous one for them. Do you think any of the Cameron's would willingly risk their women knowing what happened to Màiri?"

"I'm not sure what the Cameron's think given they turn their training over to an untested lass. The devil! I want this woman so bad I can taste it. Stuart's young wife; what I wouldn't give to have a week alone with her. How many men would you want in the event it was a trap and I chose to spring it?"

"At least 80, Lord, all mounted. I think we could fight our way out against any forces they could bring to bear on us."

"Make plans. I don't know yet if I will, but I want you ready if we do."

Blackthorne closed his eyes and grunted, sending his seed down the servant girl's throat. What was her name again; Becca, Berta, Bess, something like that. No, Bonnie. She gobbled up his sperm like the good little girl she was.

"This little tart is quite good, Ian. You may sample her yourself if you like, mouth or ass, I don't care as long as I don't have to support any rug rats she produces."

"Thank you, Lord."

Ian pulled up his kilt and let the lass have a go with her mouth.

"How accurate has Teárlag's information been to this point, Ian?"

"100% since she moved to the Keep, Lord," Ian said, groaning. "It was an excellent idea letting her move in."

"Anyone else close to 100%?"

"No, Lord. The big details that can't be missed are all pretty consistent, but much of the rest is completely off, the times and routes. Teárlag says they don't pick a route until they leave. It would be smart to do so and agrees with what we've observed ourselves. What about the news about Frang coming to the Keep? Should we try to intercept him?"

Ian grabbed the maid's hair, stood her up and bent her over Blackthorne's desk, plunging his cock into her tight ass. She whimpered in pain.

"Would you have any earthly idea where to intercept them? It's a completely new route he's taking according to Teárlag's letter," Blackthorne responded.

"Not and take on a large force," Ian said. "I could have five or ten men on a number of different possible approaches, but if he's moving most of his fighting men, they'd have to let him pass. What about attacking Lady Luck when they've gone?"

Ian started slamming into the maid's small sphincter, enjoying the friction she was giving his cock in her tight orifice. She started moaning louder, then begging, "Fuck me, sir. Fuck my ass and give me your cum. Give it all to me, sir. I want you to cum in my ass, feel you squirt in my bum."

"She's really begging for it, isn't she, Lord. She loves to have cock up her ass," Ian grunted, panting hard.

Blackthorne looked at her oddly. He'd heard these cries before, often. Teárlag said much the same thing when fucked. The maid hadn't been so vocal before. Ian bucked into her ass and released, spewing the contents of his bollocks into her dark passage.

"Aye, she appeared to love your cock, Ian. She sounded just like Teárlag when I'm fucking her ass. Almost exactly the same. Where'd you hear this before, Bonnie, is it?"

"Aye Lord, Bonnie." Ian pulled out of her ass and wiped himself on her buttocks. She stood up, Ian's cum dripping from her ass down her legs. "Beg pardon, Lord, if I be mistaken in your likes. Lady Mackintosh said men like to hear women beg for it. It can help stiffen their cocks, or speed their release if you're sore. If this be not to your liking, I can stay silent, Lord."

"Lick his cock off, my little canary. Nay, I guess I don't mind your singing, though I'm sure I'll pay far less attention to the tune the next time I hear it."

She obediently cleaned Ian's cock.

"You may go now, little bird. Your work here is done. Take your clothes with you and dress outside."

He waited until she'd left before saying, "I shall have to remember this song the next time I hear it. I'm inclined to think I shall disregard it altogether. I wonder what song she'd sing if it was the fifth cock in a row plugging her ass."

"What song is that, Lord?"

"Never mind, it doesn't concern you at this time, though it may later."

"You haven't answered my question about Lady Luck, sir. Shall we burn it down?"

"What's the point. He's building a new place anyway. You'd be doing him a favor, burning McTavish's pigsty to the ground. He'll only have to do it himself later."

"Aye, Lord."

Thorburn went into the magistrate's office in Dervaig and asked to speak with him.

"Can I ask what it's in reference to?" The clerk asked.

"Aye, just say it's a matter of extreme importance," Thorburn responded, "and could be lucrative."

Thorburn waited patiently while the magistrate was fetched.

"You haven't got any more dead, decaying bodies for me to look at, I hope," he said when he saw who was waiting for him.

"Nay, your Lordship. I do have an urgent matter for you to address. I would like to persuade you to come to Cameron Keep tomorrow at six P.M."

"Why would I want to do such a thing?"

"We have a matter of great importance to the throne, and we'll be happy to provide you with food and drink and a bed for the night so you needn't return to Dervaig late. It would be worth at least ten crowns to you if you could join us."

"You will pay me ten crowns to come to Cameron Keep tomorrow evening, plus provide me with food and drink and a bed because you have something you wish to discuss something you think the king would consider important?"

"Very important. We can't discuss it here and now," Thorburn said, "but if you promise to come, you won't be disappointed, I can assure you."

"Very well. I'll be there."

"Excellent. I have some very fine whiskey and would be happy to crack a barrel in honor of your company, your Lordship." Thorburn bowed and departed.

He made the rest of his sales and purchases and headed back to the Keep.