Cursed by a Witch Read online

  Copyright © 2018 K. T. Sayles

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Cursed by a Witch

  by

  K. T. Sayles

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  About The Author

  Chapter 1

  They put me at the back of the hunting band as I had expected. I wouldn’t have much to stare at but horse’s asses and the backs of my uncle and his men for a good while yet. Until the dogs bayed that they’d found prey, of course--a deer, a wild hog, whatever they might find. That’s what I had to be ready for. This was my chance--finally--to prove I wasn’t a bookish ponce who couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

  At least we weren’t in the deep forest yet. Dappled sunlight still danced on the floor through the leaves and branches above. This part of the forest was quite peaceful and pretty. There were even a few white and violet flowers peeking up from the forest floor. The deep forest was dark and foreboding, the oldest trees holding their branches aloft so high that they blocked out the sun’s rays entirely. That was where the greatest danger was. And the best hunting.

  I didn’t mind being in the back. I was left to my thoughts. I didn’t have to listen to my uncle telling bawdy jokes about his cousin’s handmaids having relations with donkeys, or whatever they were laughing about now. It didn’t matter. As long as I had some luck with game, they would have to respect me.

  Off to the left, a dog howled with a deep, melodious voice. I could tell from the voice that it had to be Uncle Wallis’s prized Grand Blue, his best hunting dog. This was it!

  “Gee!” I shouted to the horse. I gave it a quick roll of the spurs and leaned forward in my stirrups. I surged past the rest of the hunting party, who were still laughing about some off color joke. I cast them a quick glance backward with a smirk. The rest of the hounds were already starting to bay. They would chase the prey down, whatever they’d found, and corner it. They were well trained; they would wait until we arrived to finish it off. With any luck, I would be the first one present to deliver the final blow.

  I was already twenty yards ahead before the rest of the hunting party got up to speed. I may like books, but I was as good as anyone on horseback in the forest. With any luck, I’d be well ahead of them by the time we reached the pack.

  Especially since I knew a few shortcuts and tricks. You couldn’t ride through a forest nearly as quickly as flat, open land, but if you knew the terrain well enough, and took a few calculated risks, you could get close. I was hurtling toward a familiar thicket of short short shrubs with nasty prickly leaves. I knew that the rest of the hunting party would have to go around, lest their chargers break a leg. I, on the other hand--

  “Hup!” I ordered my horse, charging straight for the thicket. There was just the briefest of pauses in her stride before she leaped off the ground and over. We hung in the air for an eternity. Leaves rustled as the top of the thicket just barely brushed against her underside. We landed perfectly and kept going.

  Or, she kept going. The impact suddenly had me swinging crazily to the right. I clamped my knees into her side to try to steady myself. To no avail. The saddle slid off with me, and I went tumbling. I smashed into the ground with a thud. The impact knocked the wind right out of my body.

  As I lay there, gasping for breath, the rest of the hunting party caught up. Most of them continued on, but Uncle Wallis paused for a moment, bringing his horse around in a half circle.

  “Rotten luck, lad!” he said from atop his perch. “We’ll just have to get you on our way back!”

  He threw his head back in laughter as he brought his charger back around. With the clopping of hooves, he disappeared around a large oak.

  I coughed and spluttered for a few moments before I managed to pick myself back up. The saddle was on the ground a few feet away. I picked it up and inspected it. The straps that held it tight had snapped, but this was no accident. The straps had been sawed half through. I tossed it back onto the forest floor in disgust. No stableboy would have risked his neck doing something like that. Not without the blessing--indeed, the direct order--of Uncle Wallis himself.

  I kicked a convenient tree trunk in frustration with my tough, leather boots. A sheet of silvery bark flew off into the underbrush.

  My one chance. My One! Chance! I was nineteen already, and this was the first hunt I’d been allowed to join. By this age, Wallis had been on several dozen hunts already and taken down three boars completely solo.

  I embarrassed him, his orphan nephew. He thought of me as a weakling just because I read books. Well, he embarrassed me. He could barely read a package manifest. He could barely do sums. It was no wonder that he was constantly being cheated by the merchants. At this rate, my inheritance would be--

  My inheritance! Of course! In just two years, I would come into my majority. After that, Wallis would have to turn control of my family’s holdings back over to me. He had been named steward of my family holdings the week my parents had died. And the holdings were substantial. The castle in Northumberland. The mills. The reserves of silver and gold. And if there was even a farthing missing, I would have a cause of action before the king to be recompensed threefold.

  If uncle Wallis were even as half as incompetent as I thought him, I could potentially bankrupt him entirely and take all his lands.

  I paced the small clearing furiously. No doubt he hoped I would have broken my neck falling from my horse. Second best would be some boar or wolf finishing me off in the wilderness. At the absolute worst, if nothing else prevailed, he could put an arrow in my neck and claim a hunting accident. No doubt there would be an inquest. His reputation would undoubtedly suffer a cloud of suspicion for the rest of his life. But he would get my inheritance whole cloth regardless.

  Without any witnesses--his men would certainly vouch for him, as their livelihoods depended on it--there would be no one to gainsay his claim against my rightful lands.

  That was it, then. I had cousins in Cumbria. If I made it to their lands, I could plead for protection. If Wallis claimed that I had committed some crime in leaving, there was a church in Carlisle where I could claim sanctuary until I turned twenty-one. I could then bring a case against him and sue for my inheritance.

  Now I just had to escape uncle Wallis’ domain. Somehow. I would need to find my horse. I could ride without a saddle if needed.

  Chapter 2

  I wasn’t the best tracker in the kingdom, but I made do. A creature as large as a horse can’t go blundering through the forest without leaving a trail. Broken twigs, horseshoe impressions left in soft dirt, and of course big, soft, smelly balls of manure.

  What made it more difficult was that my horse had panicked after losing me off her back. Without my guidance, it was likely that I would find her rolling on the ground with a broken leg. I would never make it all the way to Cambria on foot.

  She hadn’t followed the rest of the horses to the hunt, God be praised.
Her path curved roughly back to the castle. It appeared that she had some sense of the way home. Either that, or it was pure luck.

  It had not taken her long to stop galloping. That made the tracking somewhat easier. But she had still kept going at a steady pace. She could walk much faster than I could through the forest. Especially without a rider and saddle weighing her down.

  After about half a mile, the tracks veered suddenly back into the deeper parts of the forest. That was a problem. Not only was it Uncle Wallis’ favorite hunting ground, it was also chock full of sharp-tusked boars, hungry wolves, and any number of other dangers. All I had left for protection was the dagger hanging from my belt. My boar spear had been in my saddle’s holster. I found it with the steel head broken off just a few yards from where I had fallen.

  My grip tightened on the hilt of my dagger in its sheath as I trailed the horse deeper into the forest. Twice, I lost the trail almost entirely . I had to double back to pick it back up. It grew harder and harder to follow as the sunlight dimmed through the branches and the underbrush thickened. After about an hour, I had lost the trail completely.

  I leaned my back up against a tree. Despair brought me sliding down to the ground. This was hopeless. Even if I could find the horse, Walis could doubtless send out a search party to find me. With an exhausted horse recovering from such a panic, there was not much I could do.

  The burbling of water tickled my dejected ears. It sounded like a rapid brook, or perhaps a small waterfall. A stroke of luck! My horse would undoubtedly be thirsty. She’d stopped panicking--the tracks had long since recovered from a gallop to a walking gait. The next thing she would want would be water.

  I got back up and plunged through the underbrush toward the sound.

  ◆◆◆

  I nearly fell face first into the water. As I broke through a thicket, and suddenly my foot came down on nothing but air. My stomach plunged. I snatched at a sapling. It bent under my weight, but it held me up, barely. My body swung crazily out into the air over a small, clear creek. It flowed about five feet below my foot suspended in the air.

  It took a moment to recover my footing. The underbrush grew right up to the edge before it fell away straight down to the flowing waters. The creek was certainly a welcome sight in the dim, deepening forest. The sun’s rays winked and shimmered through the broad break in the forest canopy.

  The banks looked more passable some ways upstream, where the creek disappeared around bend behind a copse of trees. I made my way down. It was slow going. Thick vines on the forest floor grasped at my boots and threatened to give me a tumble.

  The sound of a waterfall grew louder as I came around the copse. Finally, it came into view.

  It was a glorious sight. The falls were nearly two stories tall. The dancing water spilled down over a rocky, water-smoothed cliff until it fell with a roar into the creek. The creek itself was wide and slow here. I hadn’t known we had such wild beauty hidden within the forest. It was so unlike the domesticated banks of the slow, wide river that passed by our castle.

  The sight was so breathtaking that I nearly missed the raven-haired beauty washing herself in the falls. Another gem of the forest! She sat on one of the slick boulders She was clearly nude, though her womanly form was veiled by curtains of water. Even so, I could tell that her skin was as fair as the underside of a deer’s tail. I peered intently at her, hoping that the water might part, just for a moment, so I could see the rest of her.

  Chapter 3

  The sight of the bathing beauty filled my throat with hot desire. I felt a certain tightness in my riding breeches.

  I was seized with a wild desire. Some part of the back of my brain protested, insisting that I leave the girl alone and go find my horse. But that was just a whisper in the wind. Whatever else might happen to me, it would be okay if only--if only for an hour--this beautiful naked girl would be amenable to spending some time in my arms.

  Hadn’t Wallis boasted incessantly about finding and bedding mysterious forest wenches? I’d thought it was just another one of his stupid boasts. And yet, here she was.

  I cast my eyes briefly across the banks of the creek. She didn’t have any friends or comrades watching out for her. The banks were clear. I did not see any clothing waiting for her on the banks.

  There was no sign that she had noticed me. And no wonder. The falling water would leave her deaf and dumb to my approach. Good thing, too. I’d have no chance to woo her if she fled before I could get close.

  I quickly stripped off my boots and riding gloves. The leather would be ruined by the water. I removed my shirt, as well. My breeches I left on. I did not want to immediately frighten her off at the sight of my considerable trouser serpent. Besides, they would have plenty of time to dry as we played together on the riverbank.

  I waded out, barefoot, toward the waterfall. But I was not even waist deep yet when she dove off the rock into the water. Damn! She would see me for sure. But there was nothing for it but to keep going and hope she did not bolt for the opposite bank immediately.

  She broke through the surface some thirty feet from the waterfall, standing suddenly in waist-deep water. I stopped immediately. She threw her head back as she took a deep gasping breath. Her ample bosoms were pressed forward. Heat flooded my face. The cool flowing water did nothing to suppress fiery urges now flooding my breeches.

  She startled briefly when she saw me. She hadn’t expected to be met with a strange man halfway out in the creek. I expected her to start bolt at any moment. But that is not what happened.

  She threw her head back with tinkling, cheerful laughter. It was so infectious and full of promise that I found myself grinning.

  She waded toward me, her fingers playfully tracing ripples in the surface of the water. I’d never been so close to a woman this beautiful. I was captivated by the way her breasts gently bounced with each step. As she slowly walked to less shallow water, my eyes were drawn down to the gentle “V” at the base of her hips.

  She was a bold one, for certain.

  I felt heat rising off her skin as she finally came within an inch of me. I feared to reach out and touch her, and risk breaking the spell, but it was all my body wanted to do. My eyes darted furiously over her body, from her fertile hips to her beautiful, pale face framed by jet black hair. I couldn’t get enough of just looking at her. My heart pounded in my ears.

  “Mmmm,” she cooed. She leaned forward and pressed her breasts against my chest.

  My breeches were now painfully tight, crying for relief. I wanted to take charge and bear her down beneath me. But I stood frozen, panting with desire. My overloaded nerves wouldn’t obey me.

  “Well, now,” she said, “what do we have here?” She ran her hand down my arm and took my hand in hers. I shivered at the touch.

  She ran her finger around the edge of my signet ring.

  “Ooh, a princeling. From the castle yonder?”

  I nodded mutely. It brought a wicked, seductive smile to her face. I’d planned to bed this wench, but it seemed that she would be the one to bed me. I certainly had no objections.

  She placed both her hands on my chest. Her fingertips left traces of fiery desire as they trailed down my chest to my abdomen until she placed just one fingertip lightly on the tip of the bulge in my trousers. My jaw clenched with need at the touch.

  “How can I serve you, dear princeling?” There was an impertinent sparkle in her eye.

  “Please,” I gasped. I knew that I should just reach out and take her, as Uncle Wallis would have done. But I was simply frozen by desire.

  She grabbed my shaft through the fabric. I moaned with pleasure at the sudden pressure.

  “Oh my,” she said. “Your little prince seems a little lovesick.”

  “Yes,” I said. I pressed my groin forward into her hand. “Please!” Despite all the books I’d read, this girl had reduced me to monosyllables.

  She slowly undid the drawstring at my waist, teasing me.

  “I sha
ll administer the cure, my prince.”

  In one smooth motion, she tugged the breeches down to my ankles as she splashed to her knees in the gently running water. My manhood sprang free.

  She reached up and took in her hand. My cock jerked at the touch. More. I needed more. She pulled me down, angling me toward her parted, rose-red lips. Oh, yes. Please. She took my head into her mouth and placed it on her tongue. I moaned when I felt the warmth and wetness.

  Her lips slid down my shaft as she took me deeper into her mouth.

  Finally, my will broke through the stunned haze of desire. I grabbed the back of her head and grasped a tight handful of her black hair. She made a muffled noise of surprise as I slammed my hips into her face. She did not struggle or try to open her mouth. Instead, she closed her lips even tighter around my shaft, wrapped around the very base. Her nose was pressed into my pubic bone.

  I began thrusting furiously, overcome by desire, as I took her mouth with unmerciful force. Almost immediately, my pleasure reached its climax. I pulled her in, preparing to spill my seed down her throat.

  And then with the sound of a pop, it stopped immediately. My orgasm never came. The pleasure was suddenly gone without the release. It was like there was suddenly nothing but air between my hips and her lips. I lost my balance and fell backward into the water.

  My buttocks plopped against the riverstones. It did not hurt as much as I had expected. I suddenly had more padding than I was used to.

  “Wha--No!” I protested. The voice that came out of my throat was strange to me. It was high pitched and mewling. Like the childish complaints of my cousins.

  “No!” I shouted. “What is this?” I’d tried to speak in my normal masculine pitch, but it would not come. It came out more like a soft shriek.

  I looked down at my body. Gone were my masculine chest and taut muscles from years of riding the forest. I was suddenly soft and curved. On my chest were a pair of creamy breasts with large nipples that looked like they were begging for a child to feed--or perhaps for a randy stablehand to nibble on.