At his attention, they backed towards a very pretty woman standing behind them. They looked rather dubious. Prof stood still for their inspection until there was a scream from the children's right. Three men were carrying off a woman with lovely legs -- all that could really be seen in her position. Prof started forward with his sword in his left hand and his spear ready for throwing.
"Uther don't!" called the woman holding the children.
"Those are friends of Julie's." Prof stopped, but the children were truly frightened now, hiding in the woman's skirts.
"What's wrong?" a man's voice called from behind Susan's shoulder. She turned, and memory flooded into her. She had forgotten the events in the castle from the instant she had left it, but from some sort of magical influence rather than disinterest. Those events had been memorable, especially her time with this man, her castle lover.
"Uther got carried away," a woman said somewhere behind her. Susan barely noticed, her attention centered on the face of the man. That face had kissed her, moved above hers while she spiraled towards ecstasy, smiled up at her as she lowered herself onto him, contorted as she contracted around him, and finally returned to focus as she reluctantly raised herself from resting against his neck. She could still remember how the neck had tasted; she wondered if she would taste it again. And taste other things again....
"Um," Prof said. "Technically, Julie got carried away. I overreacted."
"Gus managed his scene, then?" His voice drew her one tentative step towards him. What if *he* didn't remember? What if he remembered and didn't care? "Susan!" he said. Her castle lover did remember and, from the tone of his voice, did care. "Love," he spoke over her shoulder, prompting a pang of jealousy, " could you excuse me for a while longer?"
"Enjoy yourselves," called the woman. Then she murmured something to the two children. *There* was a woman without a grain of possessiveness. Susan was ashamed of her own jealousy, but that feeling washed away when his hand touched hers. She remembered his touch, a particularly knowing touch.
"I don't want the twins to see," he said.
"I don't want anybody to see." This surprised her as much as the jealousy. It was true, though, and she wanted to speak truth to him.
"The barn?" he asked. She pulled her eyes off his face and followed his gesture. Across a stream was a large wooden structure. It looked awfully far away just now. She would follow him anywhere, however, especially away from this audience. He was already pulling her onward.
She hurried to catch up, wanting to see his face. Instead of looking at her, he was watching their footing. While she would have rather had his attention, their footing was in danger. They were just going past a dense patch of shrubbery which seemed to be hiding a man dancing an odd jig by himself, when the dancing man stumbled forwards. The hand on her arm jerked her sideways, making her look down to catch her balance. The man fell onto the path ahead of them, impaled in a woman who had been hidden by the shrubbery until then. Neither of them wore a stitch below the waist. The woman shrieked, but another glance suggested that she had not been badly hurt. She continued to shriek and moan, but she never stopped thrusting her hips back at the man lying on her.
They managed to reach the stream without another interruption. Her castle lover swept her up in his arms and carried her across. She was wearing sandals and a skirt that would not have touched the water; he was wearing slacks and shoes. Still, this way, she was in his arms. She spared one glance for the barn, then returned her gaze to his face as he strode towards it.
The barn seemed designed for horses, but none were in sight. He set her down at the bottom of a ladder. She climbed into