B. Alexander Howerton by The Wyrding Stone Page B

as they dance around it.
    I look at Melinca to see fear etched on her face.  She
notices me watching her, and begins to explain.  “Oh, Thalastrel, I am so sorry
for your sake.  You who are a foreigner to our land and customs, you do not
know the gravity of that which you are witnessing.”  She holds me tighter and
continues.  “Not only are they celebrating their victory over the Romans, but
this is the feast of Beltane.  They mean to sacrifice us!”
    Suddenly our cage shakes.  I look up to notice a warrior
working at the side of it, apparently unlashing it.  He pulls one side away
from the others, reaches in, grabs my arm, and pulls me roughly to my feet. 
Another warrior extracts Melinca from the cage.  We are roughly pushed through
the circle and forced to crouch in front of the queen.  I am now confronted
with the object which I could not perceive clearly before.  It is a stone,
oddly shaped but roughly oblong.  It rests in a stand of ornately wrought
gold.  The stand consists of three women kneeling and leaning forward.  Their
arms reach out to the sides and their hands interlock with one another, forming
a receptacle to hold the stone.  It catches the firelight and sends wild rays
of color all around the gathered circles of Iceni, lighting their eagerly
onlooking faces with eerie glows.
    I stare into the demonically glowing face of Queen
Boudicca.  She is examining us and nodding appreciatively, a wicked smile
curling her lips.  She barks something to the warriors behind us, and we are
hauled to our feet.  Our clothes are cut from our bodies with daggers and
stripped away, and we stand naked and unprotected before the queen.  She
reaches with both hands and fondles our genitals, nodding appreciatively.  I am
frozen with fear and confusion, but I have the presence of mind to reach over
and grasp Melinca’s hand in a desperate show of support.  Boudicca nods to the
white-haired men behind her, who cease their chanting dance around the cauldron
and approach us.  They carry in their hands branches of the plant I recognize
as mistletoe.  They resume their chanting dance around us, slapping our
genitals with the leaves at each pass.  The pointed pricks of the mistletoe
leaves sting at every strike.  I wince, and so does Melinca, but we remain
standing.
    Eventually the old druids finish their dance.  They seize
Melinca and pull her to her back on the ground.  The young maiden who carried
in the stone approaches me and turns me gently with imploring, soothing phrases
toward Melinca.  She caresses me about the face and shoulders, apparently
trying to put me at ease.  Her ministrations do have somewhat of a calming
effect on me, which quickly reverts to anxiety as I realize she is working her
way down my body.  She achieves a kneeling position before me and begins to
manipulate my manhood with her hands and mouth.  The chanting of the gathered
circles sets a rather stimulating rhythm to the ceremony.  Despite my
paralyzing fear, I cannot help but become aroused.  At the same time, I witness
one of the three elder priests massaging the area between Melinca’s legs.  I
steal a glance over to Queen Boudicca and see her nodding in approval as she
caresses the strange stone.
    Before long the maiden has brought me to a state of great
arousal.  She backs away, and two warriors behind me thrust me down upon poor
Melinca.  They obviously intend for me to engage in coitus with the frightened
young girl.  I try to get up, but I feel the pricks of spears in my back,
preventing me from rising.
    “I’m sorry, my dear, I never intended this, and I am deeply
ashamed and aggrieved that it has come to this.”
    “Do not fret, Thalastrel,” the girl says with an odd calm. 
“We must face our fortune with bravery and strength.  Do what you must.  I only
wish we could have done this in more joyous circumstances.”  With that, she
begins to bring all her feminine wiles to play upon me, wrapping her