The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

As the woods gave way to a blasted, gravel-strewn field, Sir Cedric’s horse stopped, shied, and stubbornly refused to take another step. Cedric could not fault his mount. The land ahead did not look the least bit encouraging. The wide valley was coming to a narrow end. Beyond the timberline, there was nothing but rock and debris, climbing in tiers towards a gaping, jagged mouth of a cave set high in the valley’s wall. Cedric, although not without a poetic streak, was not enthusiastic about the image. He suspected that he would soon enough encounter an entirely non-metaphoric gaping, jagged mouth.

He tied his horse to a tree and gazed out at the terrain, which offered no shelter, no shade, and certainly no cover against anything that might come crawling, or flying, or racing out of the cave. The ground was useless for a charge with a lance; his horse would break a leg within five yards. His blue eyes hardening, he belted on his sword, adjusted his armor, and set off towards the cave. Whatever else could be said for his adversary, it was not a fool in picking its battlegrounds.

As Cedric strode towards the mouth of the cave, as briskly as the rocks would let him, he thought back on the train of events that had brought him to this place, to rescue Lady Urrica. As with all of the knights at court, he was expected to find a lady towards whom to display proper courtly love, to play the languishing, lovesick supplicant to her haughty, inconstant, aloof charms. Cedric considered this a tremendous folly and waste of time: if the lady was interested in his lovemaking, she would say so (or at least demonstrate, ideally by removing some interfering article of clothing), and if she was not, he would go about his business, which was, largely, killing people who had offended the king.

This was, however, not the way the game was played, as Queen Alissa had coldly informed him. The Game was courtly love, and he was expected to play it with enthusiasm and a proper show of respect of the forms. Anything less would be a grave offense towards the queen. Such offenses might earn her displeasure, and that was not a fate Cedric would have wished on his worst enemy.

It was certainly not for lack of interest in women that Cedric had avoided the entire game of romance. Far from it! He was intensely interested in women, women of every age, complexion and countenance. He was wide-ranging and enthusiastic in his tastes of the arts of love (those more physical arts of love that courtly love was intended to avoid), and had indeed won many a female admirer beyond the ladies of court. He was not an idiot, however, and did not practice his formidable arts of seduction with the female members of the nobility; far too great a risk in that sort of adventure. His aversion to marriage was not an aversion to women, but an aversion to the lack: to going from a world of travel, as it were, to a single plot of land.

Cedric gave a round, bleached rock an unnecessarily strong kick as he clambered up the terrain. He noted, sourly, that the rock was adorned with teeth and eye-sockets. He contemplated the ill-luck that had brought him to choose Lady Urrica as the object of his attempts at courting. Urrica was a beauty, no question about that: violet eyes, long, flowing blonde hair, slender and comely as any might desire (not as gifted in the bosom as his was taste, but one cannot have everything). She was the second daughter of an Earl; the first daughter would have been above his station, the third daughter would have a dowry of an old pack-horse, great beauty though she was as well. Further, Urrica was not beset by other suitors. That might have led to unpleasant duels and jousts and the like. If he must court someone, and run the risk of marrying, he thought he had chosen well.

Sir Cedric had then discovered why Lady Urrica was untroubled by male attention. Whereas the other ladies at court had to feign their cold, disdainful rejection, to Urrica, it was second nature. Indeed, she appeared to have no other nature whatsoever. She was sharp, she was petty, she was utterly ruthless in her rejection and belittlement of him. Sadly, however, he had made his choice, and was required to go back on a regular basis for more abuse, in the name of a passion of which he did not even feel a flicker. He attempted to keep his enjoyment of Urrica’s company down to one tongue-lashing a week, the minimum needed to convince the Queen that he was at least trying. In the meantime, the lower chambermaids of the castle and the barmaids in town gave his complaints a delightfully sympathetic hearing.

And then, disaster. Urrica was out riding, accompanied only by a pair of her maidservants (which, even in the relative peace of King Cormach’s reign, was foolish enough). Out of the sky appeared a dragon, a dragon large enough to devour the entire castle in one gulp (to hear the servants tell it, when they recovered enough from their shock to speak). One claw made quick work of Urrica’s horse, while the other grabbed Urrica herself, and took off. Cedric had seen the remains of the horse, and the memory did not, at this point, fill him with enthusiasm towards the forthcoming events of the afternoon.

Finding the dragon’s cave proved uncomplicated. Dragons were not particularly thick on the ground, and this one had made a habit of appropriating the local sheep. The difficulty, of course, was that since Sir Cedric was Lady Urrica’s swain and courtier, it was up to him to slay the dragon and return her to safety. Needless to say, it would have been the height of bad form to deny affection for Urrica at that juncture, not to mention seeming cowardly. Whatever could be said of Cedric (and much was), he was no coward.

Cedric approached the mouth of the cave. He stopped. There was the sound of running water, but naught else. The sunlight pierced into the gloom inside only for a few yards. He knew that protocol demanded that he call the dragon out for a fight, but he was, again, not an idiot. This was a hunt, not a duel, and if the dragon was sleeping, better luck for Cedric. Pulling his shield tightly in front of him, he stepped in.

The cavern was empty. A small underground stream trickled down the far wall. A deeper passage, large enough for two men and horse abreast to ride down, burrowed farther down into the mountain. He scanned the huge, empty chamber. Nothing.

“It is bloody time you arrived!” said a shrill voice.

Ah, he thought. Not quite nothing. He turned to see Urrica, chained to the wall, wrist and ankle, with heavy manacles. Her hair was a bit matted and disarrayed, and her gown torn (rather fetchingly, he was forced to admit), but she seemed none the worse for wear.

“Lady Urrica. I am glad to see you are well,” he said coolly.

“Do not presume! Simply come here, get me out of these chains,” she said with a rattle on them, “and get us away from here!” She stared at him as if he had, personally, arranged for the dragon’s abduction.

“Of course, my Lady, nothing will please me more.” He sighed, sheathed the sword, slung his shield, and approached her, a bit warily. As he examined the wrist manacles, his heart sank. He saw no lock, no bolt, not even a seam in them; it was as if they had been forged around her wrist.

Without looking away, he asked, “My Lady, how did you get into these?”

She gave a loud sigh of exasperation. “I have no idea, you idiot! I recovered from my faint already chained to the wall! Are you incapable of removing manacles? You, who are supposed to be the bravest knight of our king! Hah! Why, I should...”

Cedric decided that he had heard quite enough. He stepped back, and said in a deathly harsh whisper, “My Lady, these manacles are closed by magic, and I am not a wizard. Your constant shrieking will do nothing but attract the dragon, who currently graces us with his absence. And I remind you that I have come to rescue you, and much against my will and better judgment? I request that you treat me politely for as long as it takes me to extricate ourselves from this unfortunate situation. Had it been up to me, I would now be busily buggering Sally the chambermaid, to the mutual pleasure of us both, while you were our friend dragon’s afternoon tea. And may I add what a delightfully cooperative partner Sally is in her buggering...”

He ranted on for a minute more in this vein. The look of shock on her face was delightful. He relished it greatly, until he realized that she was not, in fact, looking at him, but at a point over and somewhat beyond his left shoulder. He turned.

The dragon was about fifteen feet away, eyeing them both. Cedric returned the gaze levelly, thinking that the legends about dragons simply didn’t do them justice. Bards were constantly describing dragons as 10 yards or more, which this one was (give or take), but 10 yards of dragon is quite a bit of dragon indeed; simply saying “Oh, the great green dragon was 10 yards long!” did not convey the right impression. Not at all.

He had also expected a dragon to be wide, but this one was quite slender; very sleek and dangerous-looking, with powerful jaws, horned ridges on the head and enormous claws. This, he thought, is not going to be pleasant. He unslung his shield, carefully.

The dragon, in a very human if somewhat lisping voice, said, “I don’t think there will be any need for that.”

Cedric blinked. He stopped. “I beg your pardon?” was all he could manage.

“Cedric! It’s the dragon!” came an all-too-familiar voice behind him.

“Thank you, my Lady,” he said, without turning around. “I was wondering what this large, scaled, winged lizard was. I was concerned that the real dragon might be hiding behind it.” He took a breath. “Now, wyrm, you were saying?”

“Kill it! Kill it in my name!” Urrica shrieked.

“That,” Cedric snapped over his shoulder, “will be quite enough of that.” He was gratified to see Urrica’s eyes grow wide again. He paused, confirmed that she was content to be shocked at his impudence for a while, and turned around again to face the dragon.

“I was saying,” the dragon replied, “that there is no need for unpleasantness. I am quite willing to let you go, with this parcel, all safe and sound. With even a small token for your trouble.”

“If you will pardon my saying so,” Cedric ventured, “that all seems rather implausible. Why did you abduct her just to send her back?”

The dragon’s face was expressionless, but Cedric could have sworn he saw laughter in its eyes. It coiled up, slightly. “Have you,” it asked, “ever seen a female dragon?”

Cedric thought it unwise to say that sexing reptiles was not his forte. “If you are not one,” and a quick glance to its midsection confirmed that yes, this dragon was definitely male, “then, no, I can’t say that I have.”

The dragon snorted. A wave of warmish air washed over Cedric. “There aren’t any. Not in the history of the world.”

Cedric was in no mood for a discussion of the fine points of dragon reproduction, but clearly, the lizard was getting at something. “Then, how...?”

The dragon glanced over Cedric’s shoulder. The first took a quick gasp of breath, while the second, after a pause for the full import of the look to sink in, started screaming.

Cedric was, for a moment, at a loss on how to proceed. He did not take his eyes off the dragon, and Urrica, to his relief, stopped screaming after a moment, being content with high, rapid, gasping breaths of terror. Cedric was reminded of certain noises from Alice, that saucy little whole in Calmoston, but he brought himself back to the present situation quickly enough.

Still, words failed him. All he could manage was, “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite,” the dragon replied calmly. “Dragons breed with human females. After nine months, she gives birth to an egg, which will then hatch into a young dragon after another twenty years or so. That’s the gist of it.”

“Dragons lie with human females?” Cedric said, realizing that he sounded like the tutor’s slowest pupil.

“Yes. Precisely.”

“And...” His mind was spinning. “How does this involve me?”

The dragon did a passable imitation of a shrug. “I’m not going to keep her here for nine months. I need someone to look after her, make sure the egg is returned.”

Cedric blinked. “You expect me to marry her?”

Urrica had recovered from her terror. She gave a shout of dismay. “I am certainly not going to marry this loathsome creature.” For a moment, Cedric was unclear if she meant him, or the dragon. “I am a Lady, and I do not consort with such as he! Especially not such a vile beast as would have such a horrifying conversation with the very monster that stole me away...”

Cedric turned, about to silence her again; he found that he was rather enjoying that activity. Urrica was taking breath again for another rant when two thin beams of twinkling light flew past Cedric, directly into Urrica’s eyes. She gasped, her voice suddenly confused, as if she was just waking up. “I...” she stammered, “I feel so... strange. Cedric, Cedric stop it from...” Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, dangling from her chains.

“There,” said the dragon, as Cedric turned back. “We can have our conversation in peace.”

Cedric just stared.

“As far as you marrying this creature, or any other strange human social custom you wish to undertake, those matters are not my concern. I do expect you to make sure that the, ah, fruit of my loins is delivered back to me. If you wish whelps of your own, that’s your affair. After mine is completed.”

Cedric shook his head. “Even if I agreed to this, and I am not saying that I will or won’t, I don’t believe that Urrica is of the same mind on this as you are.”

The dragon snorted. “Mind. Interesting choice of terms. That’s not her concern, but it is my part of the bargain.”

Cedric frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Human, I do hope you are more clever than you are appearing now. In any event, what currently passes for Urrica’s mind and temperament are not set in stone. I can alter her in any way you wish. Indeed, I would insist that she be made a bit more, ah, compliant, just for the safety of my future offspring. It would not do to have her seek out one of your clever midwives.”

Ah, yes, thought Cedric. The midwives. Their arts had insured that the many unions he had enjoyed around the village had not yet produced a bastard to trouble his prospects at court.

“Alter her, you say?”

“Precisely.” The dragon sounded a bit smug.

“You could make her, ah, love me?”

The dragon snorted again. “Please. That is the work of a crone with a philter. I am an artist! Do not insult my talents, human.” Cedric shook his head quickly; insulting the work of a ten yard long artist with huge fangs seemed unwise to him as well. “Yes, of course, she’ll love you. Be more imaginative.”

“She’ll be an obedient wife?”

“Like a slave. You will be her sun, her king, her god.”

“She will be sweet and pliant?”

“Like the summer rain. She will have nothing but kindness for you, and indeed for anyone, although her chastity and faithfulness to you will never waiver.”

“Um, our marriage bed will remain warm?”

“She will be a minx in heat, desperate for your touch and affection. Continue, human. Please don’t restrain your ambition.”

Cedric’s mind reeled. He turned, and examined Urrica in a new light. She was quite a beauty, there was no question.

“She could be, ah, adventurous in the arts of love?”

“Human, she will be a geisha of the far east, a houri from the greatest seraglio of the near east, and the most sought-after courtesan of the warm south, all combined in one woman.”

Cedric could feel himself warming, in multiple ways, to this idea.

“She will be, ah, understanding of my conquests?”

“You do not wish her to object to your adventures with other women, that is?” asked the dragon sardonically.

Cedric nodded, suddenly a slight bit embarrassed.

“Certainly, human! Not only will the spectre of jealousy be banished from her, she will be your eager factor in this matter. She will be happy, gleeful even, to send her own maids up to your chamber for ravishment. Indeed,” the dragon said slyly, “she might participate the ravishment herself.”

Cedric, despite himself, gasped. “That is possible?” He was a man of the world, but he had assumed such tales of decadence were just idle talk over ale. He was starting to like this lizard.

“Very,” said the dragon, not containing his pride. “As I said, I am an artist. Anything else, human?”

He regarded Urrica again. “Can you do something about her, ah, her...”

“Her breasts, yes?” the dragon said coolly.

Cedric flushed. “Yes.”

The dragon grunted. “Yes, yes, I can make her breasts larger. As large as the enormous green and white melons from over the sea, if you wish. You human males are rather predictable. What is this fascination with teats?” It sighed impatiently. “Now, do we have a bargain?”

Cedric said, not looking away from the entranced woman, “And if I refuse?”

The dragon regarded him evenly. “Then we fight, I most likely win, I eat you, and I make the same offer to her next rescuer.”

The knight turned back. He was, as noted, no fool. “Very well, dragon, we have a bargain.”

The dragon reared back onto its haunches. Involuntarily, Cedric reached for his sword. “Excellent! You shall not regret your decision. Now, retrieve her.” Cedric walked up; when he inches from Urrica, the manacles released with a loud, metallic snap, and she fell into his arms, still asleep.

“Bring her here!” the dragon said. Cedric swung her into his arms, her long blonde hair cascading down, and walked back towards the dragon. He placed her down in front of the sitting dragon, who looked down, his eyes glowing slightly.

“There is no need,” the dragon commented, “for her clothes. They’ll just get in the way. Do you wish to remove them, or should I?” Cedric contemplated for a moment, then drew his sword. Running it up under her dress, he ripped it open with a single stroke. He pulled the shreds of the gown off of her unconscious form. I have, he thought as he sheathed the weapon, always wanted to do that.

“Now, human, do you wish to observe? I care not if you do or no; this modesty that your race is consumed with I find absurd.”

Cedric considered only for an instant. Some adventures in the fields of love, he thought, only come once to a man. He nodded.

The dragon snorted, and lowered its long, sleek head. Its tongue, thin and long and forked, wet and black as liquid pitch, slipped out of its mouth. The tongue ran up the inside of Urrica’s thighs, and found her yellow triangle. The sleeping woman gave a sudden gasp, and opened her legs slightly, but did not awaken. Cedric could smell a sudden cloying scent; the dragon’s musk, perhaps? he thought. As if the sight of Urrica’s body nude was not enough, the scent certainly seemed to arouse him further.

The dragon’s tongue had clearly pierced into Urrica’s own innermost reaches. Her body seemed to be responding on its own, her legs apart, her hips rising to meet the strokes of the black, wet tip. After a few long minutes, the tongue snapped back. She remained on the soft ground, her legs open and offering.

Cedric looked up at the dragon. “Um, was that it?”

“Of course not,” it said, not looking away from her. “That would no more plant my seed than yours. I was simply plowing the earth, as it where; she is now most fertile and ready to be mounted.” Urrica suddenly stirred, and open her eyes. She looked very confused, her eyes unfocused. “I... I... oh... what has happened?” she asked, her voice small and pleading. She made no move to cover herself.

The dragon did not reply, but exhaled a cloud of white vapor. It covered her like a spray of fog, nearly hiding her; the mist swirled around Cedric’s feet. Her voice emerged from the vapor.

“I... I... I cannot... Oh... please do not... please... I... I must... I must... I must, oh please, I must I feel such need please I must I must...”

She groaned, and rolled over onto her stomach. She pulled herself up onto her hands and knees, staring up at Cedric. “Please, please, do not deny me! I must feel it I must have it... I must... my need, please, help me satisfy me my body is yours... it is yours... do with me as you wish... I am yours to take... just do not deny me!” She gave a long moan, and collapsed down, her hips bucked up, her legs spread wide, offering herself up toward the dragon.

The dragon smiled, and moved slowly over her. Cedric looked down, and could see that its member was in full display; it was, in proportion to the dragon itself, not large, but it was still big enough, and very, very ready.

“Oh, oh, please now, do not deny me, please, I am yours, my body is yours please do not, please now, I am yours, I give myself up to you, all of me, please just do not deny me, give to me that which I need...” Urrica continued to moan. It was clear that her pleading was not directed so much at Cedric as at anyone who might somehow relieve the burning between her legs.

The dragon carefully moved over her, and guided himself towards her most private place. She felt just the tip of its shaft touch her, and she cried with need. “Oh, yes, please, I am yours entirely please do not stop please I must I must I need...” She pushed back, and impaled herself on the dragon. The dragon threw back its head and gave a great roar; her cry of pleasure nearly matched it.

The dragon gently lowered itself down, careful not to put weight on her. It began to move, slowly, sliding its long, wide shaft into and out of her needy wetness. “If you,” it said to Cedric, its voice cool and unchanged, “wish to use the end of her that I am not, she is in no mood to object.”

Cedric, with a grin, began to remove his armor. Within a few minutes Urrica’s cherry-red lips had his own member embraced, as the dragon continued to cover her.

The coupling went on for quite some time, hours perhaps. Although Cedric was denied the pleasure of her innermost nest, nothing else was disallowed him by the entranced woman, deep in the spell of the dragon-heat. In fact, he was reminded of Sally again when Urrica had been maneuvered on top of the recumbent dragon, and Cedric mounted her from behind, buggering her tight arsehole while the lizard continued its mating. The sensation of tightness, both from Urrica’s virginity and the dragon’s shaft filling her other entrance, was delightful.

It was dark outside when, finally, the dragon filled her womb with its seed, deafening Cedric for a moment with its great roar. He was already spent, and had been for an hour or more. He watched as Urrica also screamed with pleasure, writhing and thrashing, clearly experiencing pleasure far beyond any she had known before.

The dragon withdrew, and coiled up smoothly and sinuously; she collapsed into a heap, sweat-drenched. It sighed with obvious pleasure. “Remember, human, do not attempt to plant your seed in her for at least a fortnight.” Cedric nodded. “Now,” it added, languidly, “it is time for me to fulfill my part of the bargain. Lady Urrica?”

She stirred. “I... oh... oh God in heaven!” she screamed, curling up into a little ball. Sobs emerged from her prone form.

The dragon said, a bit more sharply, “Urrica. Look at me!”

She bolted clear to her feet, attempting to cover herself with her hands, without success. “No... Cedric, stop it... kill it... " Her comment was cut off by a long moan, as the green lights again twinkled out of the dragon’s swirling eyes and into her own.

The dragon began slithering towards her, one step at a time. She stood, stock-still, a puppet dangling on strings. “Now, Lady Urrica, do not attempt to resist me. It will be easier if you just allow yourself to succumb.”

“I... I feel strange... what are you doing... to me?” she gasped, slowly and with effort. She gave another soft moan.

The dragon said nothing, but just approached. Urrica took another long gasp, and began speaking, the words sounding distant and wooden, as if she was reading from a scroll.

“Sir Cedric is my lord and Master. I give myself entirely to him, body and soul, mind and will. I desire nothing but to love him and serve him, pleasure him in any way I can and that he wishes. My body is my offering to him, and I live for his touch and his love; nothing else can truly satisfy me...”

Sparks of green danced over her body, through her hair, in her eyes. Her bosom, ripe apples to start, were growing fuller, rounder, heavier. The dark areola spread like slow oil over her enlarging breasts. Cedric watched intently, slowly growing hard again.

Cedric’s horse was not pleased by the ride back to the castle, as it was expected to carry Cedric, his bundled armor, his bundled lady love, and the dragon’s “small token,” a heavy weight of gold coin. Cedric was never cruel to his steeds. He was perfectly happy to give the horse several rests, and Urrica was happy for the time to express her undying gratitude to her savior in the most delicious and intimate of ways. They did not arrive back at King Cormach’s court until daybreak.

The return of Sir Cedric and Lady Urrica to the castle was met with great rejoicing. A celebration of several days was declared immediately. That joy was compounded when it was announced that the first of the bans for their marriage would be posted at once. The entire court was amazed at the transformation in Lady Urrica. Where before, she was sharp, now, she was gentle. Where before she was cold, now, she was warm and loving. Where before, no one could get a kind word from her, now, she had no ill to speak on any matter, yet her quick wit was not dulled in the least. Clearly, her brush with death had made her appreciate the gallant Sir Cedric and his undying love for her. (Although some of the acid-tongue ladies did mention that the dragon must not have been starving her, given the way she now filled up her bodice.)

The queen herself gave them her blessing that first evening. In her smug smile, Cedric could see that she was pleased to have proven him wrong: true love did, in fact, conquer all. Cedric was entirely content to have been proven wrong by the gracious queen.

Very late that evening, Cedric was hauling himself up the stairs to his chamber. Lady Urrica had been reunited with her parents, whose joy and relief at her return was boundless. As he approached his bedchamber, he heard soft sobbing coming from an alcove. He yanked back the covering tapestry, to see Sally weeping piteously, a filthy cloth held to her face. She saw him, and squeaked, pulling herself together and giving him a quick curtsey.

He stepped into the alcove, and let the tapestry fall behind them; they were alone in the darkness. “Sally! What is the matter? What has happened?”

“Ah... nothing, Sir Cedric, I’m sorry...” She paused, and collapsed into him, weeping. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I should be happy for your marriage to come, but... oh, please, forgive me... I shall perish when I am denied your touch!”

She straightened again. “But it is not my place to wish you ill.” She sobbed, once.

Although she could not see it, Cedric smiled. “Sally, come with me.” Taking her by the hand, he looked out from behind the drape; no one, excellent. He lead her up the stairs, quickly, furtively. She followed, curious. He reached the door of his chamber, and pushed it open, and pushed her inside with a quick laugh. He followed her in, barring the door behind him.

He turned quickly at her soft shriek. Urrica lay in his bed, under the furs and blankets, watching them both with a wide, friendly smile. Sally backed up into Cedric, quaking with fear. “Mymylady I’m sorry I didn’t know I didn’t mean oh please myLady...” she gasped, in abject terror.

Cedric wrapped his arms protectively around the quivering maid, and cocked an eyebrow at Urrica. “I did not mean to intrude, my Lord,” she said in a low, sultry tone. “My parents have retired for the evening, and I thought I might see you again before bed.” Her smile growing, she slid out gracefully from the covers; she was nude except for her jewelry. She glided up, her hips rocking, her eyes full of promise. The young maidservant retreated further into Cedric’s arms.

“You must be Sally,” she purred softly. “Cedric has said so much about you.” She reached up, ignoring Sally’s flinch, and stroked her cheek, a lover’s gentle pet. “You are quite a buxom and beautiful young girl. I can see why Cedric is so fond of you. And as there are particular pleasures I cannot give him for a fortnight yet, why should either he or you be denied?” She slid one hand back over Sally’s hair, and tilted her head back. In pure surprise more than anything else, Sally responded, offering her lips up to the other woman. “I am certain that I will grow to be very fond of you as well,” Urrica whispered, covering Sally’s surprised gasp with a deep, wet kiss.

Sir Cedric and Lady Urrica married without delay. Several years later, Urrica’s father passed away without male issue. His first daughter and her husband had died in a shipwreck a year before, so Lady Urrica became Countess in her own right. The King, in gratitude to Cedric for his long and faithful service, created him the first Baron Greystahl, the double titles providing the foundation of a long and noble lineage.

They both lived to a ripe old age. Their great wealth matched their great generosity, and their lands prospered. There were persistent rumors of unusual practices in their bedchamber, wild tales told by young grooms and maids who had left their service, but these were put down to the idle tongues of gossips. So loving and fruitful was their marriage that these stories were soon forgotten entirely, as was the tragedy of their first child, conceived on their wedding night. After a full nine month term, the child had been stillborn. The king’s wise men said it was the final curse of the defeated dragon, who had been spotted circling near Cedric’s lands the very night of the birth.