Author's note

Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/favourited/followed this story - I love to hear from you!

This chapter falls after the death of the King, Sybil's father in law, and it will be a two part chapter...


Sybil and Gwen were tiring as they neared the end of a long day of travel. King Edward and his Queen, after their coronation, had embarked on a grand tour of Scotland. Since the death of the last King, their realm had been unsettled and the new King wanted to stamp his authority on his people and prove he was just as strong a ruler as his father.

"Why won't they let me ride, Gwen – I have been doing it since I was a child and it's so much less exhausting than sitting in this little box all day?" "Your Majesty, it's tradition for the Queen to ride in a litter – it's always been done that way." Sybil grimaced and then composed herself, putting a regal smile on her face to meet the world outside. She pushed her way through the curtains of the litter, giving her hand to Sir Reginald Clare, the trusted steward of her household, and stepped down onto the ground, feeling better as the late afternoon sunshine hit her face.

At that moment, riders raced up to the King's tent, and were quickly announced – "Your Majesty, we have had word of rebel forces moving quickly up from behind your baggage train." Piers Mandeville, her husband's closest companion (indeed, some whispered of an unseemly relationship between them) frowned – "In that case, your Majesty, I'd advise you to divert the Queen and her ladies towards Oban, in case of an attack. That way, we will be ready for battle." Edward nodded – "Yes, I agree. For her safety, have her Majesty ready to depart before nightfall."

Sybil was excited and nervous when she heard the news. Although she was a long way north, she couldn't help wondering who the rebels were. She had heard of the brotherhood of the Celts and how the Scots and Irish were united in their hatred of Longshanks and his son – was it possible that the rebels coming towards them might count her lover Tom Branson amongst their number? She quickly gave the necessary orders and was ready within twenty minutes to divert from the main group and ride north west. They would head for Dunstaffnage Castle, the safest option for many miles. The castle was now held by Robert the Bruce and he, at least for the moment, was keeping to the terms of his uneasy truce with King Edward.

Sybil and her retainers headed out from the royal camp and soon found themselves riding in single file onto the trackless moors. Sybil was riding side saddle in front of a burly yeoman assigned to protect her, and as she looked around her at the wild, beautiful country they were travelling through, something in it stirred her blood and made her feel more alive than anything else she had seen so far in this land. She almost held her breath, as if she were waiting for something to happen... then, the whole party heard the sound of hoof beats approaching across the peaty ground.

"Halt – who goes there?" The accent sounded so strange in this landscape of the Scots, and yet so familiar to Sybil – surely, it must be Tom Branson whose path they had crossed! She looked shrewdly at Duncan, the young man guiding them – although Edward had paid him well for his services, it seemed as if loyalty had won out over gold, and that they had been brought straight to the rebels they were trying to escape. She held herself up haughtily – whatever she may feel for Tom Branson in private, in public she must appear to be nothing but a queen, outraged at this treatment.

"Do you dare to stop us, churl? It is your Queen whom you insult so grievously." Tom's head whipped around at the sound of her voice, and their eyes met and locked as he rode over to her, his fair, tousled hair picked out by the rays of the setting sun behind him. "Pardon, my lady, no insult was intended. These are restless times."

Sybil only half heard what he was saying – oh, the joy of seeing him again! Her face was flushed with a high colour that could be explained away with anger if anyone asked – only Tom knew its source was desire, desire for him. She dragged her eyes away from his intense gaze and looked down as he said – "I think our party will take custody of the Queen. Tell the Sassenach Edward that we have her and will keep her safe until we can find a way to return her to her home. We would not want to risk her encountering worse treatment on these dangerous paths. There are wild men abroad."

It was only the work of a moment for Sybil to move from her own horse to Tom's and to feel his hard, muscular body pressing up against her back as he pulled her close. She began breathing unevenly from excitement, her breasts rising and falling quickly in a way she could not hide from him, this man who already knew her body so well. He spurred his mount onwards and, before she knew what was happening, they had crossed the little ridge ahead and were riding alone into the lonely glen beyond.


As soon as he was confident that they were out of sight, Tom pulled on the reins and brought the horse to a stop. Without speaking, he put his hand gently under Sybil's chin and turned her face towards him. Their eyes met and she let out a sigh of delight, which led him to lean closer and put his lips to hers.

There was almost total silence around them as Sybil closed her eyes and reached up to put her hand on the back of Tom's neck and deepen their kiss. As his tongue teased at her lips, she felt she could almost burst, as if her heart could not hold so much happiness. She pulled away for a moment and turned fully towards him in the saddle, burying her face in his neck - "Tom, Tom... take me away from here, please...". She could not put into words what she was asking for, but Tom knew what was in her heart. He had had the same thoughts as often as she had during the weeks since their last meeting, and when he had heard about the Highland progress of the King and Queen he had worked hard on putting together a plan to bring about this long desired reunion.

Tom's arms tightened around her again and the horse galloped for several miles towards an open fire near the shore of a deserted sea loch that ran through the heart of the glen, where they stopped. He lifted her off the horse and carried her over to the fire where he gently laid her down, throwing his rough plaid on the ground first to protect her. It was a clear, sparkling evening and the stars were starting to come out in the northern sky above them as Tom leaned over Sybil and she looked into his blue eyes again. Although no words of love or longing had yet been spoken openly between them, Sybil could read his feelings like a book in his eyes, and she felt tears welling up into her own eyes as she pulled him down to her. Their lips met in a passionate kiss and this time his tongue came as if by right into her mouth, caressing her there as his hands slid across her body. The perfume of the glen, equal parts sea salt and gorse blossoms, enveloped the lovers like a protective veil, shielding them from the world.

When their kiss broke, Sybil sat up slightly in his arms, and reached to loosen the ties at the front of her gown. Shyly looking down, she gently pulled it from her own shoulders, revealing her satiny skin to Tom's eager eyes. She seemed to glow from within, putting the fire to shame, and he could not wait to touch her. His lips moved down her throat, following his fingers as they lifted her body free of the constraints of the heavy brocade she wore, and as she felt his lips on her breasts she could not help letting out a little gasp.

Tom lifted his head at that, a cheeky smile on his face. "My lady, you enjoy that? Do you want some more?" "More, more..." breathed Sybil and he didn't wait to fulfil her request. His mouth brushed over her nipples again and again until they were aching and Sybil was starting to moan at his touch. His lips moved down her body, leaving a trail of fiery kisses down her ribcage and towards her stomach, where he paused to look up at her. Her body, naked now in the starlight, was fully revealed to him. As his eyes travelled over every inch of her, he realised she was even more beautiful, even more wanton, here in the wildest landscape in her kingdom than she had ever been before. He felt a wave of desire push him on, as if he were caught in the whirlpool swirling in the nearby loch, and he knew he was lost, totally helpless before its power.

His mouth moved down still further to her core, and he could feel she was already warm and wet for him. "Her taste, so good... how I have dreamt of tasting her again..." was the only thought that crossed his mind as he began to tease her there with his lips and tongue. He could feel her hand, thrusting itself through his tangled hair to pull him ever closer into her, and he heard her letting out words he was sure her confessor would consider to be blasphemous - "Yes, there, oh my God, THERE! Don't stop, Tom!" He could feel the excitement building inside her as she slipped in first one finger, then a second. As his tongue continued to stroke and taunt her, a raging torrent started to flow through her body and she did not even try to resist its force. The Queen of England came completely undone again and again in that wilderness, as Tom's caresses pushed her beyond the circle of the ten thousand stars above them. Her body bucked uncontrollably and her hips rose up from the wild heather beneath them as she screamed his name, for none but the sleeping chicks of the sea eagles in their nest to hear...


A/N -

As mentioned, this is a two-parter - next bit to come soon!