Morgana's Handmaid and the Creature of the Dungeon
MORGANA’S HANDMAID
AND
THE CREATURE OF THE DUNGEON
by
Purple Hazel
TORRID BOOKS
www.torridbooks.com
Published by
TORRID BOOKS
www.torridbooks.com
An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC
Copyright © 2018 by Purple Hazel
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Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-68299-289-0
Credits
Cover Artist: Kristian Norris
Editor: Dave Field
Printed in the United States of America
WHAT THEY ARE SAYING ABOUT
Twin Paradox
Purple Hazel has hit a home run with Twin Paradox. This book has science fiction, action, sports, romance, and espionage. I found it hard to put down. I am inspired to write something myself, but first I want to finish reading another Purple Hazel book!
~ Frank Erwin, Austin
Intriguing, exciting, keeps you engrossed. Can’t put it down. A must read.
~ Melody Wisely, Indianapolis
Other Books by Author Available at Torrid Books:
www.torridbooks.com
Spanish Posse Serial
Episode 1: The Gentleman and the Saloon Girl
Episode 2: The Casanova and the Cyprian
Episode 3: The Hunters and the Hunted
Episode 4: Heroes and Villains
Twin Paradox Series
Twin Paradox Book One
Twin Paradox Book Two
Twin Paradox Book Three
Morgana’s Handmaid
The Elixir of Dreams
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Discovered at the Well
Chapter 2
Tried for Witchcraft
Chapter 3
Alone with Vile
Chapter 4
Story of Alguin
Chapter 5
Inside the Dungeon
Chapter 6
Cottage in the Forest
Chapter 7
Tale of Allora
Chapter 8
Holiday in the Village
Chapter 9
Tale of Bedemer
Chapter 10
Trouble with Twins
Chapter 11
Exposure of the Affair
Chapter 12
End of an Era
Chapter 13
Seduction of the Masses
Chapter 14
Return of Arthur
Chapter 15
Death of Alguin
Author’s Note
Inspired by characters depicted in Blackadder’s adult comics series, we wrote two steamy short stories four years ago called Cave of the Ogres and Garden of Gnomes. A couple of years later we built an Arthurian romance novel around those two stories and incorporated them into a book called Morgana’s Handmaid. Since then (February 2016) we’ve split the original work into two parts: Morgana’s Handmaid and the Elixir of Dreams, and Morgana’s Handmaid and the Creature of the Dungeon.
Chapter 1
Discovered at the Well
Thanks so much for staying with me today and sharing my table. Such a pleasure to finally have a guest in my humble home. I hope you enjoyed the porridge. Quite filling wasn’t it? You liked it, didn’t you? Like I said, it’s a joy having someone around to cook for once again. I miss that more than anything as I get older and feebler.
Saddens me at times, I have to admit. So used to being alone every day—with each day melding into the next. No one to talk to but the furniture. No one to answer me but the birds in the trees. Nothing to do but knit dresses and sweaters for the villagers down in the valley. It’s like that for little old ladies who live by themselves, I guess.
That’s my bed over there. Hard to believe it used to sleep two rather comfortably. But it did, once upon a time. Barely fit us—my lover and me. He was a big strong man, I assure you. But, alas, it’s just me now. Has been for decades. The only occupant in this lonely corner of the forest. And by the way, that old bed was here when I arrived many years ago. In fact, almost everything you see was already here, when I came to live in this cottage in my twenties. I was led to this place, through the forest you see, and found things much the way they are today. This table was here. The chairs. The fireplace. Most all of it.
But it’s such a wonderful afternoon, don’t you think? Outside? How about we get these dishes cleaned so I don’t get infested with ants, shall we? On a warm day like today they’ll be out and about looking for an easy meal. Best we keep them off my dinner table—or worse follow me into bed at night! Before long, if I’m not careful, I’ll have a whole colony living in my home. Nothing worse than waking to ants crawling over me. I’m far too old to be dealing with something like that at my age.
We’ll simply wash off these dishes in a pail of water, then dry them. I’ll draw some water from that spring over there at the back of the cave. That should keep the bugs away. Then we can take these chairs with us out front and enjoy the sunshine. Won’t that be nice?
And if you’d like; I’ll finish telling my story—of what happened to me back at Camelot when I was a beautiful young woman. Would that interest you? There’s so much more to tell! You see, it wasn’t long after Lorelei departed that I got myself into quite a bit of trouble at the castle. It’s kind of embarrassing, yes, but if you’d like to hear, I’ll tell you all about my little brush with death. It was back when Arthur was still king; with Queen Gwynevere—and brave Sir Lancelot—at his side. Back when I made a rather dangerous error in judgment…
Was I merely the next in a long line of unfortunate mistresses to that moral degenerate, Gilbert? Yes of course I was, and he likely took me into his bed only because I was all he had available to him at the time. Would he ever return to that village in the north and see his poor wife again? Probably not. Would I be brushed aside and abandoned when he found something better—or wished to pursue a fresh conquest? Most assuredly!
But it didn’t matter to me anymore, don’t you see? Sure, Duchess Lorelei had achieved something we long for in life…to find true love. Maybe I would someday as well, or so I would have hoped. Yet she was gone, and no longer my daily reality. Gilbert though; he was reality. The truth was—and by that, I mean the cold hard truth—was that I wanted to be in the loving arms of a man again—any man for that matter—if nothing else to assuage my loneliness. Bertie, as I called him, served as the only available option for me, though I hated myself for returning to him—I really did. He was the only lover I had at Camelot, and the best I’d ever experienced so far.
And though it pains me to say, it occurred to me that if I tried staying away from him, he’d simply go find another cute young peasant girl to sleep with in the village outside the castle. Might have had one lined up already! He was that way, you know? I should have spurned hi
m and allowed something like this to happen; perhaps so he’d ignore me and inspire me to get on with my life. Yet in my weakness I ultimately gave in.
I can hardly believe I’m saying this today, but the thought of him finding another lover, even though I was only his latest piece of flesh, latest girl-on-the-side, caused me to descend into despair. Every common-sense reason I devised for walking away from that sordid relationship; couldn’t overcome my irrational fear of losing him to another girl! It’s impossible to comprehend now, even after all these years. He was a filthy adulterer and deserved someday to meet a very sticky end. Yet, after only a week, I was back to my old routine, sneaking down the hallway from my private cell in the palace, down to the barracks to see him. Oh, I knew exactly what I was doing of course; and to make matters worse I was downright relieved at the thought of finally making love to him again; however incredible that might sound.
We reunited, after what amounted to just over two weeks apart, and wisely he asked no questions about the duchess. We drank with the men, enjoyed supper, caroused and sang, sat close to each other, and embraced like lovers once more. I said nothing of what I knew about him; and in an almost bizarre sort of way I tried finding peace with it. Maybe it was easier for me then, knowing what I knew. I no longer had to believe his lies about his wife nearing death and wanting to make me his wife someday. I didn’t have to believe his absurd claims that I might become mother to his children—which it turned out didn’t exist—and living out our lives together in his home village. All I had to do was enjoy the moment. Therefore…I settled! Yes, I settled for the ogre, just like in the dream I’d had. Only this was certainly no fantasy.
We made love once more, and to my surprise, it was quite decent this time. Maybe he was trying a little harder now. Or maybe it was only because he hadn’t had any companionship for two weeks and was deeply desiring me finally. My body yearned for him as well, but my heart didn’t need him anymore you see? And perhaps that made the difference. My mind didn’t understand him nor even want to; but I didn’t need to believe in him, and that’s what made it tolerable. All I wanted was his lustful passion and whatever he could do for me. Thus, I could receive him and enjoy the pleasure he could provide, without needing him to be in love with me.
He wasn’t capable of such a thing anyway; so in effect I was using him just as much as he was using me. I guess that’s how it somehow felt acceptable. Reality was, it was only soothing my loneliness—no differently than the wine had become Lorelei’s emotional crutch when she’d been missing her husband. Yet oddly enough, I never made the connection between the two tragedies until later, when it was far too late.
Throughout that last month as a handmaid, using my knowledge of the secret passageways, and with the guards keeping it quiet, I could slip down to the barracks several nights a week and enjoy Gilbert’s caresses whenever I wanted to. The stories about his home, his ailing wife, and his children, ceased completely after the duchess’s visit I might add. I knew he wasn’t going to risk finding out what Lorelei had told me about him; thus spoiling the charade. Meanwhile, after that first week, when the lovemaking returned to being rather average—when it started to get boring and predictable, I took to avoiding the barracks completely. Let him rest up and rekindle his lusts before returning. It was surprisingly quite easy to do! We weren’t friends anymore, just two people meeting in the night for meaningless sex—like two old drunkards drowning their troubles with a pint or two of ale at the village pub.
Yet even that started to fade after a while, I have to say, and my visits became gradually less frequent. Finally it fell to weekly encounters at best, and only then did I go crawling back when I was getting pent-up with desire—not necessarily for Gilbert of course but anything I could get. There was nowhere else I could go, really. I didn’t want to bother finding someone new, and never expected to find someone as good of a lover as Gilbert had been that first night. I tried remembering how good he’d been and dreamed of it during the nights I didn’t see him. Often, I’d weep in shame for the disgust I felt over my sinfulness—I really did, mind you. Yet I feared I’d never have a man make love to me like that again. Not like that first time with him.
That of course was incorrect. I certainly did find an even better lover one day; and ironically it would yet again be a man whose heart belonged to another. As luck would have it, I was about to meet him too! But it was in the most unlikely of circumstances, which I couldn’t possibly have imagined or even dreamed up in my tangled mind. Not even with one of Morgana’s potions!
I continued my rare visits with the Captain of the Guard, slipping out of the palace well after bedtime, and sneaking back to my cell in the wee hours of the morning. It was bound to have gotten me into trouble eventually, and I should have expected it, but sure enough the other servants eventually saw me. Looking back I knew full well not to stay with the captain in his barracks quarters so close to dawn. That had been the rule. What’s more, people were up and about earlier and earlier as the season turned. It didn’t take long to notice me in the castle courtyard making my way back to the palace—several times in fact. On numerous occasions I was even seen cleaning myself off by the well! Hiking my dress up over my waist, squatting down next to a bucket of icy water, I was seen splashing it over my private area and removing the wad of herbs I used for birth control.
Maybe I got lazy. Maybe I thought they should mind their own business. Or, maybe I didn’t think through it that far. I should have been more careful! But I wasn’t, and it cost me dearly.
It was amazing how fast they turned on me too! In the fall I’d been a celebrity, and with the success of the captain inspiring the servants and townspeople to believe in their safety and security; I had been respected for being a part of Camelot’s rejuvenation after that bloody campaign in the north. However, though the theories of a plot to overthrow King Arthur ended up directing suspicions toward Princess Morgana, this only served to elicit fear and distrust among the servants toward anyone connected with her. I never could have imagined how this might have affected me personally.
You see, aside from that splendid week during Lorelei’s visit, Morgana had remained hidden from view the whole winter; and when servants were cooped up inside their homes for nearly three months with nothing to do, and having way too much time on their hands, tongues were sure to wag. One silly rumor led to another, then became bundled with newer, even more outrageous ones until folks began to form them into working theories. Seemed that when they got tired enough of suspecting Morgana as the biggest villain in the kingdom, they needed a new target.
Then there was the unfortunate incident with the wine steward…and the vinegar. I should have managed that better, but I did not. Plus there was the lusty afternoon at the pond where the girls and I frolicked naked in the water and bathed ourselves wantonly. Surely everyone in the castle had found out about that naughty story within days. The stories also spread that I’d been seen privately with the duchess—even slept with her, alone, in her quarters—and likely poisoned her at dinner that first night with some kind of evil potion from Morgana’s laboratory. The duchess had been married to Arthur’s strongest ally in the north after all. Couldn’t I, a member of Morgana’s personal staff, have been part of some plot to undermine this alliance and eventually overthrow the king?
Yes, word spread, and rumors flew that one of Morgana’s own servants was even seen exposing herself in the castle courtyard. That certainly got folks talking. And if I’d been a “nobody,” just some lowly servant who’d experienced nothing in the way of local notoriety; no doubt I’d have been disciplined by my mistress or perhaps simply discharged—at the worst permanently banished from the castle. Yet now my lofty reputation for being the great healer of the guards in the barracks evolved into suspicions about me as some sort of threat to the kingdom.
Was I a conjurer? Did I cast spells? Had I been learning from Morgana how to possess and corrupt a man’s soul? Was I in league with Morgana, and learning
to be a witch? Or worse, was I already a witch, and using my powers to seduce and emasculate King Arthur’s personal protectors? Maybe it wasn’t Morgana who was behind the plot, if there ever was one. Hadn’t I, after all, magically healed that poor injured guard? Did I use “sorcery” to accomplish this?
Given enough time and a little creativity, those jealous and superstitious fools could come up with most anything, I was about to learn. Possibly, they began to say, I was consorting with some form of demon that I was calling up from the depths of the castle well; and that resulted in me having to wash my burning genitals! They had seen me removing a wad of something gooey from between my legs, after all. Few good Christians knew of this ancient form of birth control and what’s more the church patently opposed such pagan methods of contraception as tantamount to practicing witchcraft. Preventing a birth or conception was strictly forbidden, you see? This was an insult to God.
Yet as outrageous as that sounded, it was only slightly laughable. I began to notice servants staring at me wherever I went during the day, and even my good friends the guards were suddenly hesitant when greeting me. It wasn’t long before I pieced it together—especially when I found myself turned away when I visited the barracks one afternoon. Looks of fear and apprehension were all that greeted me; or men casually ignoring me as they went about their daily duties. Even back in Morgana’s chambers I found strange looks being cast toward me and faces turning away. Conversations interrupted when girls saw me approaching. I got a pit in my stomach whenever I detected this; especially when I overheard several handmaidens talking about me and something about the castle well. That’s when my heart sunk. The well! I should have been more careful, and yet at the time I didn’t know what I could do about it.