The scholar called upon the Earl at his manor house, but he was not there.Wasn't that an exciting beginning? But wait! There's more coming up next week.
“You will find him at the Boar and Bugle in the village,” said his housekeeper. “The Lady Catherine is quarrelling with her daughters today over their lessons, and he wants no part of it.”
Indeed, from within the walls of the great house he could hear a periodic crack, like twig snapping, and a cry of distress in response. It sounded to the scholar like Lady Catherine was winning the argument.
He found the Earl, Sir Hugh McCaslin, at the inn seated in a corner and chatting amiably with a few of his fellows. The scholar approached and introduced himself.
“Of course,” said Sir Hugh. “You’re the lad who wrote to me from the university at Castile. You are writing the history of the Five Kingdoms.”
The scholar admitted that that was indeed the case. “I am Benjamin Montcrief and the History is to be my master work. So much has happened and it is important that it be preserved. I have written much about the Great War but in my research I chanced to hear about the Princess of the Glen, Sophia. Events that occurred at home while the great armies were away had much to do with the Five Kingdoms. So at this point I am most interested in Sophia the Fair. I understand that you knew her. I would like to learn all you can tell me about her.”
Sir Hugh dismissed his fellows to give them some privacy.
“So you want to know about Sophia the Fair? A truly great lady. She ruled the Glen of Mountvail for only a short time, but during that time she was the fairest, and most astute ruler the Glen had ever known. She was beloved of her people, and for good reason. She saved them from conquest at the hands of Richard of Avignon. They are a free people today because of her.”
Montcrief asked, “She was special to you, wasn’t she?”
“Very much so,” said Sir Hugh. “I was the captain of her personal guard.” He shouted to the innkeeper, “Ned, bring more mead. This looks to be thirsty work.” To the scholar he said, “I hope you have some time.”
The scholar smiled. “I will listen all day if necessary.”
Sir Hugh began. “I was a simple hedge knight, but an educated one, when I met her brother Edward. He needed an entourage, some skilled fighters and engineers. We became friends, comrades in arms. We hunted together, fought bandits and chased women all over the kingdom.” Hugh shook his head chuckling, recalling a rowdy youth. Then he continued.
“One day when I was visiting Edward, he took me aside. He did not know why, but apparently my presence had caught the eye of Princess Sophia. She wanted to see me. So I was shown to her chambers.”
“She was beautiful, I’ve heard,” said the scholar.
“That doesn’t begin to do her justice. She had long hair so golden it was almost white, a face like an angel and the figure of a goddess. But mainly, it was her eyes. She had the most beautiful, large, deep blue eyes. A man could get lost in those eyes.
“She sought my help in understanding certain concepts in her study subjects and I was glad to help. She said she wanted to learn, but her tutor was a most difficult man and very obtuse, not capable of explaining things in a way she could grasp. After that we spoke quite frequently. I was able to boil complicated things down for her. She was bright, kind, and not at all the spoiled princess that you might expect being the daughter of a duke.
“Then one day she came to me. She wanted me to see something, she said. I agreed. Who could deny such a lady? It was an odd request. She swore me to secrecy, then she led me through a passage in the walls that she knew about and hid me in a chamber from which I could observe her in the keep’s library. That was where she met with her tutor. And she was to meet with him that day.
“Now, not all ladies have tutors, but old Henry deValse, her father the duke, wanted Sophia, who was nineteen at the time, to learn law and history, geography and mathematics. He was getting on in years and figured that Edward, who was to be the warrior, might need help ruling The Glen if he had to be absent. War was coming, and King Alfred wanted the knights of The Glen for his army. Anyway, Sophia confided to me that she had been doing poorly of late with her lessons and there were to be consequences. She wanted me to watch in secret. Someone was to be punished for Sophia’s failings.
“It wasn’t to be Sophia. Like most nobility, Sophia had a whipping girl. Actually, all of her ladies-in-waiting were at risk should she fail at her lessons. So I watched from a hidden chamber as Verna, a pretty lass and one of her ladies, was brought in. Remember, these ladies were Sophia’s close friends, the daughters of minor nobles, merchants and craftsmen who lived at the keep with her as companions. But today one of them had been chosen to be flogged in Sophia’s stead.
“The tutor was angry with Sophia for some recent failing. He bound the poor girl across a stool made expressly for the purpose of chastisement. It had buckling straps on all four legs and a curved in top. Well, when she was all trussed up, he raised her skirts to reveal a most shapely backside, all bare and vulnerable. He took up a rod, which, as you know, is sheaf of several whippy switches, and proceeded to whip the girl, forcing Sophia to watch. He gave her about a dozen strokes, hard. The poor girl cried bitterly as stroke after stroke striped her bottom. If Sophia shut her eyes, he made her open them. If she covered her ears he made her remove her hands. For several minutes I saw and heard the swish…thwack! of the rod, the futile squirming, heard the piteous wails. It was a thorough switching and they led Sophia’s little friend away in tears.
“So I wondered why Sophia had wanted me to see that. Well, I found out. A day later she came to me and bade me accompany her on a ride. Ostensibly, I was to be her bodyguard in case of an attack by brigands. We rode for a ways until we stopped at a secluded grove. Inside the grove there was a clearing. I wondered what we were doing there. Then Sophia reminded me of what I had seen in the library. I said ‘yes, but so what?’”
Sir Hugh chuckled. “I’ll never forget what she did next. She asked for my knife. I gave it to her and she cut some switches from a willow and bound them with a ribbon. She handed me this rod, and to my utter amazement, lifted her dress over her head and took it off. Underneath she was stark naked.”
Hugh shook his head. “You never saw such a beautiful creature. Her breasts were full, her waist tiny, flaring into shapely hips. I was in shock that she’d disrobe before me.”
“She said, ‘I’ve never been punished in this way. If others are to be whipped in my behalf, I want to know their pain so I can try harder. If I do better, they will be spared.’
I stood there like a fool while she turned her back. She bent over grasping a low branch and thrust out the loveliest, most perfectly rounded pair of female buttocks you’ve ever seen--firm, round, and exquisitely shaped. Then she said, ‘Strike, Sir Hugh, just like my tutor, a dozen hard strokes. And don’t hold back.’
“You could have knocked me over with a feather. But I did as she asked. I thrashed her like an errant stable boy. She took it. Her body flinched and she cried out. But throughout she presented that gorgeous posterior of hers for the rod’s painful kiss. She did not try to evade the strokes. I could see the white of her knuckles but she did not let go of that branch. Not once.”
Sir Hugh took a long drink. “And it wasn’t the only time. Any time a lady-in-waiting was to be flogged, she made me watch from the hidden chamber. Then we made a trip to the grove. If he used a leather strap, I used a leather strap. If it was a butter paddle, I spanked her with a butter paddle. Whatever the tutor did, I did the same. Later she told me she always showed her bottom to the poor girl and they consoled each other. It did not take long before there were no more thrashings. She had mastered her subjects.”
On The Hunt • Re: TALES OF WELLS FARGO (1957)
15 hours ago
4 comments:
Oh wow, I was only recently wondering if there were whipping girls as well as whipping boys! I guess this answers my question :D
Hi Hermione,
This is a different but wonderful story. Rollin was definitely a master of his craft. Looking forward to reading more of this. Thank you:)
Hugs
Roz
Hermione,
What a wonderful choice of story. Thank you. Rollin was definitely a master story teller.
Love,
Ronnie
xx
QBuzz - That's quite a coincidence!
Roz - Very different, but enjoyable.
Ronnie - He was, and I miss him.
Hugs,
Hermione
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