She pressed her groin against his through the sheet, and worked her hips back and forward. 'Ah, the Captain is already at attention…'

'For you? Constantly…'

Her mouth licked and sucked at his, smearing spit on his face, and he pushed his hand between her legs and she rubbed herself against it for a while, his sticky fingers squelching in and out of her. She grunted and sighed in her throat, and he did the same. She reached down and dragged the sheet out of the way. He took hold of his prick and she wriggled her hips until they found the right spot and worked her way down onto him, her hair tickling at his face, her rasping breath tickling at his ear.

There were two heavy knocks at the door, and they both froze. Another two knocks. Ardee put her head up, pushing her hair out of her flushed face. 'What is it?' she called, voice thick and throaty.

'There's someone for the Captain.' The maid. 'Is he… is he still here?'

Ardee's eyes rolled down to Jezal's. 'I daresay I could get a message to him!' He bit on his lip to stifle a laugh, reached up and pinched at her nipple and she slapped his hand away. 'Who is it?'

'A Knight Herald!' Jezal felt his smile fading. Those bastards never seemed to bring good news, and always at the worst possible times. 'Lord Marshal Varuz needs to speak to the Captain urgently. They're all over town looking for him.' Jezal cursed under his breath. It seemed that the army had finally realised he was back.

'Tell him that when I see the Captain I will let him know!' shouted Ardee, and the sound of footsteps retreated down the corridor outside.

'Fuck!' Jezal hissed as soon as he was sure the maid was gone, not that she could have been in too much doubt about what had been going on for the past few days and nights. 'I'll have to go.'

'Now?'

'Now, curse them. If I don't they'll just keep looking, and the sooner I go, the sooner I can get back.'

She sighed and rolled over onto her back while he slithered off the bed and started hunting round the room for his scattered clothes. His shirt had a wine stain down the front, his trousers were creased and rumpled, but they would have to do. Cutting the perfect figure was no longer his one goal in life. He sat down on the bed to pull his boots on and he felt her kneel behind him, her hands sliding across his chest, her lips brushing at his ear as she whispered to him. 'So you'll be leaving me all alone again, will you? Heading off to Angland, to slaughter Northmen with my brother?'

Jezal leaned down with some difficulty and heaved one boot on. 'Perhaps. Perhaps not.' The idea of the soldiering life no longer inspired him. He had seen enough of violence, close up, to know it was extremely frightening and hurt like hell. Glory and fame seemed like meagre rewards for all the risks involved. 'I'm giving serious thought to the idea of resigning my commission.'