Chapter Eleven Look For Me by Moonlight
Author's Note-'The Highwayman' is a poem by Alfred Noyes. There is a beautiful rendition of the poem sung by a lady named Loreena Mckennit; you can find it on YouTube. As to how Alannah knows it-that will be explained.
Time passed, and Stayne found himself falling deeper in love with Alannah. She could send shivers of desire running through him simply by smiling, and his mind was filled with some rather pleasant memories of their nights together. She could reduce him to a quivering mass with a flick of her tongue, something that both pleased and embarrassed him. But he had his tricks as well, he reflected. He could cause her to shake with desire by breathing on her chest, slow, deep breaths that left her panting with need. He recalled the first time he had discovered this…
Stayne gasped in pleasure as Alannah slowly licked his throat, her hands gliding in smooth motions across his chest and arms. He started to reach for her, but she pinned his arms to his sides. "I told you. Wait your turn, Ilosivic. I'm not finished yet."
Stayne looked at her, a pleading expression in his gaze. Alannah smirked at him and kissed his throat, sucking on the flesh, and he arched his back and moaned her name.
"Alannah…I…"
Alannah smirked quietly, then kissed his chest, sucking and licking until he was panting with desire. He couldn't take it anymore, and his hands shot upwards, grabbing Alannah and flipping her over so he was on top. She grinned mischievously at him. He leaned forward and slowly licked her breasts, and she moaned with pleasure. He moved up to her ear, gently licking the rim, and whispered seductively.
"My turn, Alannah."
She moaned in response, and Stayne smiled. He slowly licked down her body, pausing at her breasts. When he reached her navel, he gently flicked his tongue over it, smirking softly as he heard her cry his name. He kissed her stomach, and she moaned in ecstasy.
Stayne sighed softly against her stomach, and to his surprise Alannah cried out. He looked at her, a bit bewildered, and sighed again. This time his breath landed just above her navel, and she groaned.
Stayne's eye widened in recognition and he smirked deeply at her before breathing on her chest. Alannah arched her back and cried out.
"Ohhhh…."
Stayne smirked, and moved so that his lips were hovering over her throat. He softly breathed on her neck. "You seem to be enjoying this, my love."
Alannah moaned in response then cried out as he slipped into her. "Ilosivic!!"
"I love you so much, Alannah. My beauty, my love, my life."
Stayne smiled softly as he watched Alannah at work in the garden. She was kneeling in the wabe, yanking up the weeds that seemed to always sprout there. She turned around and looked at him in mock exasperation.
"Yes, thank you. I would love your help. I'm surprised you even had to ask me."
Stayne laughed. "Not one for subtlety, are you, love? I suppose I could give you some assistance."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Thank you so much. I know that weeding the wabe isn't the most pleasant of activities, but it must be done."
Stayne grinned wickedly, and whispered in her ear. "I know of an activity that is infinitely more pleasant."
Alannah moaned, and struggled to keep her voice from quavering. "I agree, but this has to be done first. Then I promise, you may lead me to the bedroom and ravish me."
Stayne grinned happily at her. "Well, in that case, we should work quickly."
Hours later, they lay spent and happy in each others arms. Alannah sighed softly, and began to hum a tune Stayne had never heard before.
"What are you humming?"
Alannah rested her head against the crook of his arms, and softly sang.
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."
Stayne looked at her, bewildered. "Where did you learn that song? I've never heard it before."
"I didn't learn it. Songs just pop into my head sometimes. My mother tried her best to break me of the habit, but she was quite unsuccessful. This one popped in a few nights ago."
"Is that the whole song, or is there more?"
Alannah nodded. "There's more, but it's rather long."
"Please sing it."
Alannah smiled. "As you wish, love."
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
Riding—riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jeweled twinkle;
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet, black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
Marching—marching—
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest;
They had bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now, keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain .
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still!
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
They shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with the bunch of lace at his throat.
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
Riding—riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.
Alannah finished her song, and Stayne sighed. "That was a very tragic story."
"Yes, it was. But did you enjoy it?"
He grinned at her, and softly kissed her forehead. "I enjoy everything about you, Alannah."
She sighed in pleasure, pressing herself firmly against him. "Good answer."
Stayne sighed happily and wrapped his arms around her. "I love you."
Alannah purred in response, and Stayne smiled gently, then they slowly drifted off to sleep.
Three days later, they received a very surprising visitor.