Still in agonizing agony from that brutal kick to my nuts, I heard the commotion. Ilion, who was not of nobility was struggling with an arrow shot through his thigh. Somebody bandaged him up, stopping the blood flow once the arrow was removed. It's a good thing, otherwise he would have bled to death. Some soldiers at the behest of Queen Othello, dragged him down to the dungeon.

Omar, my trusted agent who I sent north now laid dead in a pool of his own blood. My despair grew stronger.

I thought about the time Othello threw herself at me in a zealous attempt to get a man in her life. Her ex-husband was murdered by thieves out on the road, which left her in charge of this vast estate, which she now dubbed a Queendom, since all her siblings were put to death, which left her the only heir. Rumor has it that she arranged for King Robert to be killed. He was a drunk, who was so drunk on their wedding night, he was not able to consummate the marriage. In fact he drank so much, he couldn't get it up ever, to the frustration of his wife.

So she looked elsewhere, not only for men but for women as well, which is why she has taken a liking to Miscella, a wholesome young lady that she could play with for as long as she wanted.

There was one hope for us. My friend in the northern Kingdom of Veranda was expecting me to visit him and to bring my family to his vast palace for a gala celebration. When we didn't show up, he might've thought I'd snubbed him. However, he has known me for a long time, and surely would've suspected foul play. He undoubtedly would've sent a search party out looking for us and they would've discovered the castle overrun. He has a vast army and I'm sure would come to our defense.

Meanwhile my daughter and wife had finished licking out each others' pussies. Othello spoke to one of the soldiers. "Take this slut," as she pointed to the daughter,"up to the royal bedroom and spread eagle to the four- corners of the large poster bed."