Wednesday, August 17, 2011


A Horn of Mead
By Jerome Brooke

“Your eyes of blue do me beguile, sweet boy,”   whispered the woman.  “Come, another horn of mead.”
I smiled, and touched the hair of the shieldmaiden.
“You are most kind, lady.”
“Come, help me with my bath,” the woman said.
She pulled her tunic over her head, and stepped out the door.  I joined her on the plaza of the building.  She stood on the platform near the fountain.  I poured a pail of water over her head.   She was tall, with a powerful form and strong limbs.
When her bath was finished we returned to her room.  The woman pulled me onto her sleeping platform.  She mounted me, ripping open my bodice – I mean, my tunic.
“Give me your sweet mead, pretty face.”
When she was sated, she rose from her platform.  She cast a silver coin beside me on her bed.
“Come back later.” 
I gathered my tunic and belongings.
The day was young.  I might find another shieldmaiden of the chariot regiment.

- - -
Jerome Brooke was born in Evansville, Indiana. He now lives in the Kingdom of Siam. He has written Our Lady of Silk and many other books.


- - -

Help keep Yesteryear Fiction alive! Visit our sponsors! :)

- - -

Blog Archive