Gay erotic novel with explicit language. A sequel to "The Squire of Carlovain" and "The Knight of Carlovain," it tells the story of Banred, a descendent of Andrew, the hero of these prior stories. Banred is an impoverished collateral member of his line, and when opportunity presents for him to join an expedition to the New World. He seizes this chance, only to learn that their colony, for political reasons, is intended to fail!
Following is an excerpt from the novel:
Banred saw the Italian nobleman's wife approaching and tried not to let his eyes betray his astonishment. He had thought his friends were joking when they described what she would look like.
She walked upon shoes with soles some sixteen inches thick, which made her gait so unsteady that a pair of handmaids supported her, her hands on their shoulders on either side. To add to her preposterously fake height, her hair had been braided up into two, curving, almost horn-like spikes on her head adding some nine or ten more inches to her altitude. Perhaps the braids were meant to suggest a halo, though they failed to meet by nearly a foot at their top in their curve towards each other, and they jutted some six inches in front of her forehead as well. Banred could not see what held those braids up, were there wires inside of them, or was it that the braids were simply woven tightly and expertly together?
As if to compensate for the preposterousness of her shoes and her hair, her dress of green silk and silver thread was embarrassingly decollete, the front of her dress was open down to nearly her navel, and she didn't wear any undergarments, you could see the sides of her breasts at the top of her dress.... Banred looked up (her face was nearly a foot above his due to those shoes) and into her eyes, and blushed. "My apologies, my Lady." he said to her.
She held a handkerchief of delicate lace in one hand, she lifted her hand and flapped it back and forth in his face, presumably in a gesture of dismissal/forgiveness. "Our fashion in Venice is new to you." she said.
"Yes. You are gracious, my Lady." he bowed to her. "I am Banred, a member of the House of Ernben, the fifth Moresta Duke of Heslov, and was sent to invite you and your Lord to visit us at our manor at your convenience. The Duchess wishes to inform you that she is at home on Vedrondays, which is the day after tomorrow and every fifth day after that." The Italian could not be expected to know the Carlovain calendar.
"Good." The handkerchief was flapped in his face again, it reeked of some perfume, sweet, too sweet, it was like some sweet liqueur spilled in a forgotten cellar, left to stain and concentrate its nectars, and then you opened the door and the long dead odor of wasted joy pounced on you. "You may tell the Duchess that I shall indeed call upon her this, uh, Vedronday, young Mister Moresta."
The lady stepped up next to him again and this time the handkerchief was drap ed on his shoulder, she then actually laid a hand upon him...oh, Lords of Heaven, the perfume wasn't in the handkerchief, it was on her! Had she bathed in the foul stuff?
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