Black Knights, Dark Dungeon Read online

  Harkin couldn’t hold out any longer. He shoved urgently with his hips, and she took him with only the slightest of a gag. Her tongue danced over the head of his organ as her other hand milked the seed from his loins. He felt her body tremble in lust as he drew her pleasure button deep into his mouth so his tongue could works its magic on it. That was all it took, they both exploded with such power, Caitlin forced to gulp and swallow or choke to death. When he finished with her, his lips and face were covered in her pleasures; his organ still nestled in the depths of her hot mouth.

  * * * *

  They dressed only long enough to eat, the sexual tension still there. They went back to their bedroom, and it wasn’t long before they were in the bed and in a passionate embrace. Before the sun came up, Harkin took his wife one more time, both of them finally exhausted, and sated, but they knew it wouldn’t last long before the longing returned, yet they wouldn’t be together.

  They ate breakfast together, and Caitlin went to the docks to see him off. Most of the town was out; wives and children lined the shore to say their goodbyes, knowing that some of them would never return. The two ships were the finest the shipbuilders had made, sturdy but sleek, a large mast in the center, but they also had oars when the winds would let them down. There was only a small crew, needing more room for the soldiers, which would become adept at sailing once they got under way. The sailors would teach them the ways of the sea. They had adequate provisions to last for a while, but they would take what they needed as they raided the southern towns of England. There would be an occasional ship they could take at sea, but the ships they commanded weren’t built to withstand the onslaught of a British warship. If confronted, they’d count on speed and cunning to outrun the warship and use their shallow draft to hide in inlands and bays that were inhospitable to the large warships.

  It was a joyous and tearful day. There were high expectations for the mission’s success, but there were always risks. The soldiers looked over the railing to get a last glimpse of their homeland as the sail picked up the gentle breeze that would send them south into the territory of their fieriest enemy.

  Chapter 2

  Attack and Retreat

  They lost the winds after two days out. They were still along the coastline of Ireland. They took to rowing, but the calm water prevailed for almost a week. The soldiers already grew restless; they weren’t used to doing nothing, eager to pitch into battle.

  Harkin stood on the bow as the spray of the sea shot up. Finally, a nice wind drove them. Ireland was behind them as they crossed the Celtic Sea. Most of the southern coast of England was only small hamlets; they wouldn’t go far enough to get to London. They were no match for the mighty British Navy that docked there. His job was to harass the southern villages to keep the British Navy busy and out of Ireland. Other ships had the same task but attacked different parts of England. Between them all, they’d keep the warships sailing from one skirmish to the next, and if they were all successful, the warship would never find them.

  * * * *

  “Have the men clean up this pigsty.” They were nearing the coast of England, and it was time that the men began to think about battle. Harkin needed the boat to look like a warship, not a garbage scow.

  “Aye, Captain.” Fergus was the First Mate, and he knew what Harkin wanted before he said it. He wanted the men ready to fight like the fierce warriors they were. He ordered the men, and soon, the two ships were busy with cleaning. It didn’t take long; the men knew that the time was coming when they could get off the deck and put their feet on Mother Earth once again. It was where they were comfortable with fighting, not on water but on land.

  Within two days, the two ships split up; Fergus would captain the other into battle. They sailed close to Sutton, a small village on the mouth of the River Plym. Fergus sailed past it at a safe distance in order not to be seen, and then, doubled back to lie off the coast of the opposite side of the village. Harkin stayed put close to the shore about twenty nautical miles from Sutton. Harkin took five soldiers in a small skiff along the coast as far as they could go without being seen. Once Fergus got around the other side, he would do the same. They both would scout the village, and then, they’d meet up farther out to sea at night. The skiff had small sails, so they could get far enough off the coast in the dark of night.

  They covered the skiff with branches and leaves, up from the beach and erased all tracks it made in the sand. They set off inland to find high ground where they could reconnoiter the village. Harkin lay prone as he gazed through the telescope at the small fishing village. There were a dozen boats tied to the wooden dock, but they were all small, not big enough for more than two men. He could see a dozen buildings on a dirt road that ran down to the docks with the usual types of shops, bar, store, fish and meat, as well as a small Catholic church made of stone. It wasn’t very big, so it gave Harkin an idea of the size of the village. It couldn’t hold more than forty or fifty people. He had thirty men, all soldiers, so they could easily overpower the village.

  They stayed hidden all that day and night. Harkin saw a few soldiers, but not more than six. They were there more to keep local law and order, not to defend it from an invasion. Harkin would make sure that they were subdued first; they were the most dangerous. “Let’s go.” They set back off for the beach. They dragged the skiff out, and they soon sailed out to the rendezvous spot.

  Harkin lit the lantern, swung it back and forth three times, and then extinguished it. He waited and saw the same blinking light shine back at him, but it was far in the distance. It went dark quickly. They began to row in the general direction. It was an hour before they stopped, and he lit the lantern once again. After he swung it three times, he got the same response, but it was close. It wasn’t long before they rowed close enough to hear each other, and they soon pulled alongside the other skiff. They tied them together, and Fergus climbed aboard.

  “Fifty people including men and children. Maybe eight soldiers, tops. I found the building they stayed in. It’s close to the dock.”

  Harkin hadn’t seen the guard’s location. That would make it easier. They would concentrate the attack there, overpower the soldiers, and then attack the rest of the village. He didn’t expect a lot of resistance from the villagers. They were fisherman, not soldiers. “We’ll round up the people and put them in the church while we ransack the village. I don’t think we’ll get much, but that’s not our purpose. The navy will have to send one of their ships to investigate, but we’ll be long gone.”

  “What about their boats?”

  “It’s their livelihood, but we’re here to create havoc. Setting them afire should do it. We can bring our ships close to the harbor. We’ll have twenty men already on the shore first, and we’ll attack as soon as the people realize we’re not friendly. The last ten will guard the ship and take the village buildings closest to the dock. I don’t want anything to go wrong and find our ships in enemy hands.” If they lost a ship, they’d have a hard time making it home, and England wasn’t a hospitable place for Irishmen.

  “Should we attack in daylight or nighttime?”

  “Daylight, I don’t want anyone getting hurt that doesn’t need to be. At least we’ll be able to see our targets, and we won’t strike women or children. But, we’ll do it late in the day. When we set sail, I want us sailing into darkness, just in case. We can make a lot of distance in the dark with no lights on.” Surprise was the most important aspect of the attack. Harkin had to make sure that the villagers weren’t alerted too soon.

  “Then, it’s the day after tomorrow. Late in the afternoon when the sun begins to set low in the sky. The two ships will meet about five nautical miles offshore; we’d be just specks for them to see. Hopefully, we can get a good wind or oar if we have to. We can reach the shore fast before they realize what happened. Each ship will have landed skiffs with ten men on each side of the town. I’ll shoot up a flaming arrow. Attack the soldiers first.” Fergus was eager for a fight. That is wha
t he came out here for.

  They set sail in opposite directions to go back to their ships. They rowed along with the sails; they needed to make good time to meet the short time span for the attack.

  * * * *

  Fergus had sent one of his men around the village to meet up with Harkin. They were ready for the attack in two hours. Harkin watched as the people moved about the small village with no sense of what would happen. They were naïve in thinking they were safe. Soon, they would learn of the Irish and fear them.

  The first soldier that saw them advance looked up as though he was in shock, frozen to the spot he stood on as he stared at the men. The men rushed from the woods carrying short swords and wood shields, but they wore no mail or armor to protect them. He almost thought it was a prank until he saw a sword aimed at his belly. He managed to push aside at the last possible moment, but the man that attacked him was quick. He had brushed aside death but only for a fleeting second. He never felt the red blood drain from his neck in spurts as his heart pumped the last of his lifeblood from his veins. He was dead before he hit the ground, his throat cut by a sword.

  Harkin took his advance party in search of the soldiers that defended the village. The alarm sounded, people began to rush outside their doors, and they were stunned when confronted by the Irish soldiers. Harkin’s eyes were glued to the door that housed the soldiers. They started to come out, trying to put on their armor as they exited. That was a fatal mistake. Harkin took the first man out with ease, pushing him away with his shield, ready for the next. The next man was more prepared; Harkin stepped back as the soldier swung his large sword in a wide arc, trying to connect. It missed by inches, and Harkin moved in for the kill, slashing at the soldier’s arm and slicing it below the elbow. His blade sank deep into the fragile flesh, and it forced the soldier to drop his weapon to the ground. Harkin swung around, and this time, his aim was better, stabbing the short blade into the soldier’s back and pushed it through the bone to pierce the soldier’s heart. He kicked the soldier’s body away as it slumped to the ground.

  The clang of steel rose loudly along with the screams of men. His men engaged the others, and the English soldiers soon lay in a crumpled pile; the ground around them stained with pools of brilliant red blood. Harkin finally had a chance to see how Fergus and his men were doing. There were bodies of men on the dirt street, but next to them lay hoes and shovels, not spears or swords. Harkin rushed to help Fergus in hopes that he could spare as many of the townspeople as possible.

  Harkin didn’t get more than ten feet when three men rushed at him. They were burly and muscular, and these held swords, though one of them carried a butcher’s knife, but it was still big and sharp, not farmers’ tools. There wasn’t a word out of their mouths as they charged him. He took aim at one of the men with a sword. His size made him clumsy and inept at fighting. Harkin regretted having to do it, but the man had a determined look on his face. Harkin’s sword sank home into the chest of the man. Harkin gave it one more shove, and the life went out of the man’s eyes. He caught something out of the corner of his eye and moved away almost in time. An arrow sliced along his upper arm, but it barely drew blood. He put his shield up a bit higher as he lunged at the next man, moving to the left of him, the other man on his right. He slashed at the man’s arm, catching it but not enough to deter him. Harkin moved to the left this time, and he found the man with the butcher knife. The man stabbed at him, but the knife was too short, and he only cut air. Harkin slashed with his sword and caught him on the upper leg. The man stumbled to the ground as the blood poured from the artery he had severed. He wouldn’t last more than a minute.

  Harkin felt a pain and wetness in his shoulder and spun around to confront the last man. He had an evil smirk on his face as though he knew he got the best of Harkin, but Harkin’s pain barely registered; there was only revenge in his heart. Their swords clashed together, the man was strong. Sparks flew as the blade scraped against each other. Harkin put all his strength behind the shove of his shield against the man, throwing him backward. His opponent’s large size defeated him as he lost balance and fell to the ground, but his sword was still raised up in defense. Harkin moved in and swung his blade. It cut off the arm that held the sword until it bent and lay at his side, blood pouring from the ragged cut of bone and flesh. Harkin knew he was no longer a threat and death would take him quickly.

  Harkin raced to where Fergus and his men fought the villagers. Harkin pushed aside one of his men when he saw him swing his blade, a woman in the way that would have suffered the consequences. “Careful,” he warned him. “Put down your weapons and you’ll be spared,” he yelled out to the villagers that tried to defend themselves.

  The villagers saw the soldier rush at them, blood on his shirt, his sword, and shield covered in a badge of blood. There were too many of them, and the soldiers that were to defend them lay in a pile next to the dock. They were farmers and fisherman, no match for the fierce warriors that confronted them. “Don’t hurt us, we surrender.” John put his hands up as he dropped the sword he had picked up to defend himself. He ran the store; he wasn’t a warrior. He turned to the others. “Stop fighting, you’ll only lose your life,” he tried to warn them.

  Fergus and Harkin were glad that the rest of the villagers decided to surrender. Even the ones that didn’t do so at first, finally succumbed to reality as they quickly became outnumbered by a superior force.

  The women were scared of the soldiers that attacked. They looked barbaric, not like the knights of the English in their handsome armor. These men wore rough clothing and held wooden shields and short swords. But they were fierce and determined, cutting down the soldiers as though they were sheepherders, not soldiers. The villagers were no match, and now, they feared their fate, herded into the church. Are these men godless?

  John stood up as the rest of the people huddled on the floor, their arms raised in surrender. There were at least ten of these warriors standing over them, their faces etched in evil. “What do you want?” He said it boldly, but he feared for his life. He saw one man come over to him, his sword in his hand, and John’s life flashed before his eyes, fearing a swift death.

  Harkin stood in front of him. He had seen him help make the villagers surrender and that spared their blood. He was smart. “What’s your name?”

  John heard his Irish accent, knowing that England and Ireland had been at odds with each other for centuries. Was this the beginning of a war? “John; I run the store.” His voice shivered with fear. He waited, fearing the sword slicing through his body at any second.

  “You look like a sensible man, John. Keep the people calm and seated, and there will be no more lives taken. We’ll be out of your village soon enough.”

  John saw the way some of the villagers looked at the women. “And the women, no harm will come to them? Their virtue will be safe?”

  “We are not animals, John. No one will be touched, as long as you control your villagers. You have my promise.” Harkin pushed the tip of his sword toward the ground. “When we leave, tell your king that Lord Harkin of the O’Donoghue Clan sends his regards and warns him to stay away from our land.”

  “I’ll convey your message to our king. Thank you for your mercy, Lord Harkin.” John turned to the others. “We’ll not be harmed, just stay quiet and seated until they’re gone.”

  Fergus stayed with the five men to guard the villagers to ensure their safety. He didn’t want any of his men do to anything foolish. The rest of the men sought out the treasures of the village.

  Harkin signaled the ships to come in close to the shores as they began to loot the village. It wasn’t a wealthy village, gathering food and provisions more than treasures. They found some jewelry and money, along with more swords. They even took some of the fishing nets so they could catch their own dinner if provisions got too low.

  It was an hour before Harkin went back to the church. The ships were loaded with the loot. The village’s boats were coated with coal tar a
nd ready to be set ablaze as soon as they raised anchor. He found John herding over the villagers to keep them calm. “You’re a good man, John. The village is lucky to have you. We’ll be off now. We’ll lock the door, but don’t try to get out for an hour until we are gone. It’s for your safety,” he warned them.

  “You’re a man of your word, Lord Harkin. I’m sorry we have to meet under such circumstances.” John was honored to shake his hand, in spite of the fact that it had the blood of some of his fellow villagers on it. But, it could have been worse; they might have all faced the same fate and been slaughtered by them.

  Fergus was the last one out. He ran the chain through the door handles, the back already done. They could smash the window to get out, but he suspected they wouldn’t destroy such sacred and beautiful stained-glass windows. The men were at the end of the dock, and they climbed in the skiffs. One held the burning torch for Fergus as he ran onto the dock. He grabbed it; it was easy to set the boats on fire, the coal pitch caught easily, and it soon engulfed every single boat. He jumped in the skiff, and they soon headed out to the two ships that were parked not far from the dock. As he climbed aboard, he caught sight of the dock, the fire moved from the ships to the dock, setting it ablaze with high red and yellow flames that flickered in the dimming light as the sun began to set. The sails flew up the masts and both ships turned and headed out to sea, picking up speed as they flew over the water as if they floated above it.

  Harkin watched with Fergus as the coast slowly became further away and the night began to settle in. The shore still lit up from the fire, the smoke billowed up into the sky, but it soon became a faint, distant sight. Harkin kept all the lights on the ship extinguished, just in case there was an English warship close. They sped off far out to sea to lie low for a few days before they moved up the coast, away from London to find another small village to ravage.