Chapter 6
The Steed slowly backed away from the enemy lance, but it remained leveled at Miss Ryder's midsection, its point aimed at her completely exposed and beautifully-shaped navel. He could feel her thighs squeezing his flanks as she prepared for action. The armored warrior blocking the path urged his mount forward as he bore down on the intruders.
"I am the Black Knight," he proclaimed.
"Fancy that," Miss Ryder said, not skipping a beat. "We're on the same side." She gave him a sweet, innocent smile and raised her palm in greeting. "Hail, brother Knight."
The Black Knight was having none of that. The tip of his lance did not waver as he herded them towards the field next to the path.
"I'm a Knight of Great Britain," he boasted, indicating the "KGB" monogram above the sword and shield emblem on his breastplate.
Miss Ryder smirked. "I doubt that. A double agent, more likely."
He pretended not to hear. "By the Knight's Code, I must see to it that you're armed." He gestured towards a nearby steel lance stuck point first into the ground; a small breastplate hung from its handle. The cuirass had a detachable round shield about a foot in diameter. The field had been set up as a makeshift jousting yard, with a low fence running down the middle as a tilt barrier.
The Steed retreated over to the armor. "You'd better put it on," he advised Miss Ryder under his breath.
"What? I'm not prepared to do battle on horseback!" she answered in a harsh whisper.
"You didn't think you could impersonate the Black Knight without the real one coming to hear of it?" the horse asked wryly.
"Actually, yes; I did. I thought the real Black Knight had been removed from the board."
"Apparently only one of them."
They watched the Black Knight move to the far end of the list.
"We could just run away," the Steed offered. "I feel like I could gallop really fast after taking that potion."
Miss Ryder shook her head. "He'd go straight to the Black Rook and warn him. Besides, if you're as fast and powerful as you say, can't we defeat him with this?" She pulled the lance from the ground and tested its weight.
"These weapons are steel, not wood. One of you could end up dead," the Steed cautioned. "What do you know about jousting?"
"Stay on—good; fall off—bad?" she ventured.
"Falling off isn't as bad as the alternative of having a hole through one's torso. If it looks like he's going to strike, jump off."
"Then I lose?"
"He'll likely pursue you on foot with his sword. You can outrun him since he's in full armor, but any hope of entering the Black Rook's stronghold in disguise will be shot, even if you can meet back up with me."
"Then you'll just have to see to it that we win," Miss Ryder affirmed. "Is the hoofoaccelerator still working? How long will it last?"
"Only one way to find out."
The Steed waited while she donned the armor. The Black Knight's chivalry had its limits; the breastplate was so brief as to scarcely cover her bosom, leaving her midriff still bare. The shield seemed sturdy enough, but the diameter was such that absolute precision would be needed to deflect a thrust. The armor wasn't even heavy enough to unbalance her when she remounted.
As the Steed galloped towards the near end of the list, Miss Ryder wrinkled her mouth in dismay. The pleated miniskirt was flapping wildly over her hips, and the tiny leather triangle tucked between her thighs was hardly adequate protection. The Tanner's garments were going to be far too breezy and delicate for a high-speed battle, particularly one where sharp points were involved.
The Black Knight raised his lance in salute. "May thy shield chip and shatter!" he shouted ritualistically.
"Chip and shatter?" muttered the Steed. "What's it made of, plastic?"
Miss Ryder smacked the barrel of her lance against her shield with a resounding ring.
"May thy lance bend and break!" she shouted back. The Steed winced and moved his rear legs closer together at the taunting innuendo. Miss Ryder raised her shield to indicate her readiness.
The Steed took his position at the starting mark on the other side of the fence. In a low voice, grim with determination, he encouraged Miss Ryder.
"Prove that you're more woman than he is man, and unhorse him."
With her thighs hugging the Steed's middle and her lower body pressed firmly against his back, she said, "Count on it."
The dark charger thundered forward as the Black Knight aimed his lance just across the tilt fence. Suddenly the Steed took off as well, and Miss Ryder tried to match her opponent's moves, leveling her own lance a few inches over the barrier.
She felt the Steed's acceleration deep in her belly and an irresistible wave of pleasure welled up inside her. This is no time to be stimulated! she thought. But beneath the breastplate and leather, once again her nipples were swollen to the point of absolute rigidity. What caused such fierce arousal? Was it the Steed, or the fight? Or was it fighting alongside the Steed?
Less than twelve feet separated the horses when the Black Knight abruptly shifted his weapon to change the attack angle. Miss Ryder tried to counter with the same, but the inertia of the heavy steel made her response sluggish and inaccurate. She suddenly realized that she had misjudged badly; her opponent was much more adept at handling the lance, and she was doomed, with insufficient time to react.
The Steed sensed her need, and at the exact moment of impact, he juked sideways in a blur of motion so that her shield was at the perfect deflection angle. The enemy's point made glancing contact and bounced harmlessly off the surface, while Miss Ryder's lance found only air, missing everything.
The Black Knight was momentarily startled by the last-second speed of his opponent's horse; then he shook his head in disbelief. "You won't be able to dodge another one of those," he smirked.
The horses turned at the end of the list to begin the second pass. Miss Ryder practiced hefting the lance, determined not to get caught off guard again.
The Steed advised, "I'll take care of the defense; you just focus on knocking him off his mount."
"Right." Miss Ryder leaned forward over his mane and carefully positioned her weapon.
Neither horse hesitated as they rocketed towards each other at full gallop with their shoulders brushing the barrier fence. The Black Knight kept his lance low and loose in his hand, confident that he could snap it into position at the last possible moment and gain the element of surprise, giving the Steed no time to adjust.
As the horses met, the Black Knight chose a sudden attack angle. Miss Ryder saw the steel point aimed directly at her chest and realized she had made another catastrophic miscalculation. What was it the Steed had said? If he looks like he's going to strike, jump off. She didn't want to leave the protection of the Steed. Weren't they invincible together?
In an effortless display of maneuverability, the Steed leaned so far that he nearly tilted sideways, causing the Black Knight's thrust to go wide. Miss Ryder saw her opportunity and angled her point outward to rake across the fence. The barrel of her lance made partial contact with the Black Knight's armored torso; in his panic he almost dropped his shield.
As the jousters completed the pass, the Black Knight was clearly unnerved. He gave his opponents begrudging respect.
"Incredible," he said. "Battling you two is like facing a centaur. You must have been together for a long time."
"Actually, we just met this morning," Miss Ryder said breezily. The Steed finished, "But we complement each other very well."
The Black Knight frowned. "We'll finish this with one pass."
"Agreed," said Miss Ryder. Now that she knew the Steed's capabilities were nearly unlimited, she could attack without restriction.
Both horses stood motionless at opposite ends of the list. Both riders raised their lances in salute.
"Now!" shouted the Black Knight.
The horses took off with such rapid acceleration that their legs were a blur. This time, Miss Ryder held her lance underslung and relaxed, waiting for her opponent to commit first.
The Black Knight finally took aim. This was what she was waiting for; Miss Ryder anticipated the Steed's reaction, aiming her lance out into empty air such that when the Steed moved into the perfect defense position against the Black Knight, her point would make direct contact.
The Steed jittered furiously through space, phasing in and out as if jumping between dimensions. When the horse finally materialized in place, Miss Ryder saw the Black Knight's eyes widen in uncertainty and alarm. The next thing she felt was the shock of contact through her weapon grip.
Her lance split the Black Knight's shield in two and powered on through, carrying him bodily from his horse and tossing him to the ground a dozen yards away. She reeled off-balance with the force of her thrust, but stayed seated with her legs clamped solidly around the Steed. The Black Knight was motionless. With the sudden realization that she had reached the climax and won, Miss Ryder collapsed onto the horse's mane, gasping from exertion. She dropped her shield and lance and wrapped her arms around his neck for support, stimulated almost beyond all capacity to think or breathe.
The Steed is amazing, magnificent! she marveled. If only he could take human form... With all the strange things she had seen since that morning, perhaps there was some wizard who could transform him. As a man, the Steed might still find that he enjoyed her warm, bare thighs.
The horse was in high spirits, as well.
"You're one-hundred-percent woman, Miss Ryder," the Steed said glowingly. "That'll teach him to pick on the White Knight."
She leaned forward and kissed the side of his muzzle. "I couldn't have done it without you." Then she dismounted, her legs still wobbly from the intense confrontation. She walked over and examined the prone form of the Black Knight. He was out cold.
"He'll live," she announced. "Might have a whale of a headache tomorrow, though."
"Take his breastplate and visor," the Steed suggested. "It has the official coat-of-arms of the Black Knight. We may be able to use it to get past the Gatekeeper in front of the Dark Tower."
Miss Ryder contemplated the KGB emblem. "Good idea." She stripped the armor from the fallen rider, leaving him embarrassingly in something that resembled long underwear.
The black charger had already wandered away from the battle site and was grazing in the field. Miss Ryder removed his reins and used them to tie up the Black Knight.
As she donned the spoils of combat, she smiled. Finally, a breastplate that actually covered her navel. There was a half helmet with a brim to hide her auburn hair, as well. She eyed the saddle on the enemy horse and unconsciously dipped her hand below her waist to touch herself through the thin leather. No; she had made it this far riding the Steed bareback, and she wanted nothing to come between them.
Miss Ryder returned to the horse's side and patted his nose. "I hope all the commotion didn't alert the Black Rook," she said as she remounted the Steed. "We don't want him escaping."
The horse neighed with delight. "I hope my TrotFast doesn't wear off soon."
-oOo-
On the parapet of the Dark Tower, a Pawn looked down onto the rolling field in front of the main gate. A horse and rider were approaching at a fast gallop. A cry came up from the Gatekeeper, "The Black Knight has returned!" The Pawn echoed it to his superior a few feet away.
"Sir? The Black Knight has returned."
The Black Rook turned and observed the path with ice-blue eyes, his face uncovered and his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. There was no need to wear the chessboard mask among his own forces; he only had to hide his identity from White pieces. He pulled out a gold pocketwatch and checked the time. The inscription inside the case seemed to hold his attention for a moment.
"Right on schedule," he said. "Let's see how the Knight fares after his battles."
A partial helmet hid the Knight's face, and he seemed to have lost the lower half of his armor. The only thing visible below the cuirass was a short Roman-style leather battle skirt. His noble black charger was striding effortlessly through the gate. Nothing out of the ordinary. Or was there? Curious that there was no saddle. The Black Rook frowned.
"Bring me some field glasses."
The Pawn quickly fetched them. The Black Rook looked through the binoculars, examining the returning warrior. He checked the KGB symbol emblazoned on the front of the armor.
"Well, that's certainly the Black Knight's breastplate," he said.
As the horse galloped along, the leather skirt flapped up over the figure's hips, revealing what was underneath. The Black Rook set the zoom to maximum and focused below the waist. A tiny leather triangle was stretched taut between the rider's legs. The distinct groove in its form-fitting outline left no doubt as to the gender of its wearer.
"A good disguise," the Rook smiled, "but the real Black Knight doesn't have thighs that are quite that luscious." He turned to the Pawn.
"Prepare a welcome."
-oOo-
Nearly a mile separated the fence at the lodging-house from the gate of the black stone tower. The Steed hurried down the path, hoping to avoid any more chance encounters with enemy forces. Miss Ryder wasn't used to wearing a helmet, and her head looked like it was on a swivel as she surveyed the landscape, watching for trouble.
Looming nearly eight stories tall in front of them was the Dark Tower. The notched castellations along the roof gave it the appearance of a giant chesspiece rook. A spiked steel barrier a dozen feet tall encircled the keep at a radius of about a hundred yards. The guard at the front gate wore a black silk hood, like an executioner; this resemblance was boosted by the large battle-axe that rested casually on his left shoulder.
Miss Ryder held her breath as they approached, waiting for the Gatekeeper to take a wicked swing at them with his blade. If the Steed's potion was still working, he could probably elude the strike and save her from harm, but it would mean that they had lost the element of surprise. The Gatekeeper let them pass with a simple nod.
"So far, so good," the Steed said. "The Black Knight's armor is working."
Miss Ryder stole a quick glance at the top of the tower. The Black Rook was standing on the parapet, checking a gold pocketwatch.
"There's bad luck," she whispered back to the Steed. "The Rook himself is on the tower."
"Don't look so concerned. You're the Black Knight, remember?"
Miss Ryder studied the cylindrical castle. The outer surface was covered with narrow windows and battlements that could easily hide scores of archers.
"How many soldiers do you think that thing holds?" she asked.
The Steed read her mind. "Arrows could rain down on us at any moment. Keep your shield high," he advised. "Remember Agincourt."
As she moved her shield to a more protective angle, Miss Ryder saw the glint of sunlight off a glass lens at the top of the tower.
"He's looking at us with binoculars," she said.
"Try to be nonchalant," the Steed replied.
"He's saying something to his lackey."
"Maybe you should wave."
Miss Ryder decided that a jaunty wave would be very un-knightly. Instead, she raised her lance in salute.
Even as she did so, the taped grip suddenly became too hot to hold, and she instinctively dropped it to the ground. A split second later, there was a blinding flash and her shield was blasted from her hand.
"What?" she cried.
A charred spot on the nearby ground sizzled.
"Something's wrong," she warned the horse.
The Steed hazarded a look upwards. "Lightning bolts are coming from the top of the tower!"
"The terriers were right!" Miss Ryder exclaimed.
"I think I saw this on a tarot card." The Steed grunted with exertion as he accelerated to battle speed. "This was the secret weapon the White King warned us about!"
Miss Ryder pressed her body flat to the horse's back to present less of a target. "The White Bishop said that no one had ever seen it, and lived," she said grimly.
"First time for everything," the Steed said cheerily.
Another bolt blasted the earth near them. This time, they could hear the crack immediately after the flash. Only the horse's reflexes, as fast as the lightning itself, saved them.
"The steel breastplate is attracting them!" the Steed shouted. "Take it off!"
She hurled it to the ground just as a bolt blasted it into molten metal.
"The helmet as well," the horse urged. Miss Ryder pulled it off and threw it as far as she could; even as it left her hand, a tendril of electricity sought it out and followed it all the way down.
She had once again been reduced to wearing nothing but her leather bodice and miniskirt, and was completely unarmed save for the leather whip. At least she still had the Steed between her legs; that was enough to boost her confidence and keep fear at bay.
"We're being driven inside," the Steed observed.
"Good," Miss Ryder said resolutely. "That was my plan all along. Besides, we can't tarry about out here; we'll get barbecued."
They reached the Dark Tower's large wooden door. The severity of the angle to the roof gave them a temporary respite from the lightning generator.
"It's undoubtedly a trap," the Steed persisted. "He expects you to go upstairs alone."
"True. But you can't follow me inside of a nearly-vertical building," she said reasonably.
"If I were an ordinary horse, you would be correct. But I'm an extraordinary chamelequine with a bloodstream full of hoofoaccelerator."
The door in front of them burst open. Inside, a line of three spherical black helmets marked enemy chesspieces. They were fully armed for attack.
"Pawns!" the Steed exclaimed.
-oOo-