For the most of us times of peace are a blessing and to be desired above all else, for a few peace brings nothing but trouble. One such person was a soldier of fortune who had for many years served the kingdom faithfully but was discharged when peace was bringing prosperity to the majority. Do not think of her as a warmonger bent on plying an evil trade, for she was quite the opposite. In the time when drought was ravaging the land she took the only opportunity available to her: to join the army. As a woman in the armed forces she had to work twice as hard as her male colleagues but in the end she triumphed as a leader of men in the toughest of situations. Perhaps because of her sex, she was amongst the first to be discharged when the down sizing began. She felt aggrieved that she was discarded so easily, sent on her way with little more than a few coins to rub together. Before she left she counted the men who had not been discharged and when she did not find one amongst them who was as brave and as valiant as she, she swore revenge on the king.
She set out to find men whom she could lead against the king.
She was walking in a wood when ahead of her she heard a great creaking followed by the crash of a tree falling. Through the gap made by the fallen tree she saw a man stronger than any she had met before. His shirtless torso was thick with muscle. Not the bulging muscles of the posers she had the misfortune of working with in the army, his was layered muscles creating a smooth barrel-like torso and arms as thick as thighs. She had no doubt his thighs were as thick as they looked in the loose trousers he wore. This was a man whom she could lead against the king.
“Hello there, my fine giant of a man.” She said stepping into the clearing. The man stood, turning to look at her, the sweat glistening on his skin. She, in that silent moment, decided her approach. This was a man worth knowing carnally and she had expertise to offer him. She stepped up to within arms reach of him.
“Well my quiet giant, it seems you have something I want.”
She reached out to touch his bicep, then ran her finger up his arm, down his chest to his nipple which she pinched. The giant did not flinch, and neither did he move away from her or tell her to stop.
“Now,” she continued as she playfully walked her fingers down his stomach, “all that is left to discuss is what I have to offer you.”
She kept his eyes engages with hers as she stepped back slightly and undid the top button of her shirt. She undid the second and third before his eyes darted down and back, he saw her practical sports bra. She finished undoing her buttons and let the shirt drop behind her before he glanced down again. She kept the look going while she slipped the elasticated straps off her shoulders, she held her hands over her loosely covered boobs, then looked down ready to reveal. Her breasts were quite small and very round. They looked like they had been added onto a boys body as an afterthought. She knew the effect her breasts had both men and women. Women understood they were strange and could not help staring at them, while men thought because their eyes were drawn to to them they must be what beautiful breasts look like. It was hard for her to work out the effect her boobs were having on the strongman as he had seemed mesmerised by simply being in in the presence of a woman. She place both her hands on her buckle.
“You do this at the same time as me.”
She pulled the belt halfway through the buckle.
“I’m waiting, pull your belt through.”
He did as he was instructed, she found the secret to being a good leader lay in giving straightforward achievable commands followed by considerable praise.
“Now you are getting it, you are making me very happy and very excited.”
“Now pull it all the way out and open up that fly.”
She dramatically pulled out the remainder of her buckle and undid her buttons, at the same time she pushed her hands into her cotton knickers pulling them down so he could view her pubic hair.
He unzipped himself and let his hands drop to his sides.
“That’s right, you are so hot, my big man, now will you do something for me? Will you slip your hands in your pants like I’ve done because we are going to drop them together, OK?”
He put his hands in as directed and she stretched hers down so he could just see the bottom of her pubic V.
“OK my big man, you are going to take the lead now. Every inch you pull down I will too. Why not give me your best drop it in one go?”
He did, he thrust his hands down and his cock sprung up, a little drop of precome flicked off the end and it was her turn to be mesmerised as the tiny drop arced towards her. She snapped back into action, bending her knees to slip down her clothes until she sitting back on her haunches her legs spread exposing herself to him.
“Now you do the same, you sit down too.”
He stood for a moment as if contemplating what to do. He could mounted her, pinning her to the ground. She did not want that as she would then cede control to him, this was the moment of risk, if he did what she commanded he would be hers to command.
“Now sit down in front of me and let me get a good look at that magnificent penis you have.”
He knelt down facing her.
“Yes, my big man, put your hand on that delightful beastie you have there. Let me watch you stroke it.”
It was a nice cock, straight and smooth and although it looked smallish she realised it was above average as his thighs were massive. She was a little sad that she had gained complete control over the strongman so easily as she would like to have rode the strongman, she would have liked to feel him inside her.
“Go on, my big man.”
She slipped her finger into her fold.
“Stroke your beastie, faster, big man, faster, I want to see you squirt. I want to see you squirt while you watch me come. You are turning me on so bad playing with your cock like that. ”
She watched the strong man’s face to see the right moment.
“Oh, I am coming, I am coming.”
She slowed her fingers to a stop as she watched the strong man jizz on the ground between them.
“Now, will you be my man? Two like us can stand against the world.”
For the first time the strong man spoke to her.
“Yes, but first I must take this wood to my parents. They are down yonder vale.”
“Right, my man, meet me at the top of that hill where I will camp tonight.”
With this plan the leader set off for the summit of the hill.
She would not have seen her next man had he not been directly in her path. He sat motionless, a wiry sinewy man with an extremely long rifle. She stopped to watch the man, it was more than a full minute before the man spoke in a quiet voice.
“I am going to fire now.”
The leader said nothing and did not move as the shot rang out. It was a strange sound as the echo seemed louder than the shot. The hunter lowered the rifle in a studied fashion. He inspected the rifle and although he had not glanced at the leader she somehow felt studied by him. The man was so measured, so controlled she decided he would be a good man to have on her side.
“What did you shoot, my fine hunter?”
“Two miles from here a frog was catching a fly, as his tongue shot out so I shot the fly in the left eye.”
“Such a fine and interesting thing, I am sure, but what have you to gain from this endeavour?”
“Perhaps you would answer me this: what sport is there in hitting a barn door?”
“Ah, if only our bellies could be filled by sport, what a wonderful world that would be.”
“But we all play games, what game are you playing with me now?”
“I don’t know if you could handle the games I play.”
“Oh, I love a game of dare, or is it truth you are after?”
“I offer you a dare and you give me the truth.”
“You like to be in control? I accept your terms, my condition is that if I win you will be my man.”
“My dare is simple: a man such as I has needs that need fulfilling. Your truth is as simple: for what purpose do you need a man such as I?”
“Your terms are surprisingly lacking in challenge but cleverly allow you to maintain your self control while following a leader as intriguing as me. Now make safe your rifle and take out your gun. You are not going to shoot, my man, you’re going to come.”
She had, after all, been in the army.
The hunter took out his cleaning kit, clipped together his cleaning pipe before running it through his barrel. Only when his rifle had been correctly maintained and stored did he lean back spreading his legs for the leader. The wait did not make her impatient. Quite the opposite, it embedded her feeling this man would be good to have by her side. She knelt between his legs and ran her hands over his thighs to his zip. She knew she could be quick and rough with this man but she wanted to take it slowly, to make the experience worth what she would expect of him. She undid his trousers and his zip, he lifted his bum so she could slip them down. His cock lay flaccid, it was nicely clean for a traveller. She wondered if he lived in the area, perhaps she had misjudged the man, perhaps he would not follow her. She took her time inspecting his penis, she squeezed it slightly and felt its weight in her hand. She smiled at him as if his cock had passed a test. She pulled it up and licked the very tip, the most sensitive bit. It immediately responded growing towards her wet tongue. She flicked it with her tongue ensuring her hand did not move. She wanted the only sensation to of the flick of her tongue to arouse the hunter. When his cock was fully hard she formed a little ring around it with her thumb and forefinger. His penis was thinner than she liked which was a shame as she would have liked to fuck him at her leisure. She took the head in her mouth and gently sucked while running her tongue over the tiny slit. She started stroking her hand up and down as she sucked and flicked. She kept a constant and regular rhythm. It was not long before she felt his cock spasm and fill her mouth. She swallowed without a fuss, she had never understood the big thing about spitting or swallowing. The flavour was not exciting nor was it offensive so it seemed simpler to swallow than to use a tissue that would need disposal later.
“Right, I was dismissed from the army without compensation and am seeking out some men to cause anarchy in revenge against the king for his injustice. I am to meet my strong man at the summit of this hill so shall we depart?”
The strongman was a little surprised to find the hunter with the leader by the campfire that evening but he did not complain. There was little conversation that evening and no sex at all but neither the strongman nor the hunter showed their disappointment.
The following day as they continued their journey they happened upon a windmill that was turning although there was not a strong enough breeze. A further ten minutes walking they came to a man sitting on a tall rock holding his finger over one nostril as he blew out with the other.
“What strangeness is this?” asked the leader as she looked up to him.
“A mile from here a windmill turns because of the air I blow from one nostril.”
“Certainly, that is a clever trick, but tell me young man why do you want to turn the windmill?”
“It is my job to turn the family mill when there is no wind.”
“So why are you here, so far from the mill?”
“It is my favourite place. Insects don’t bother me on this rock. I don’t like insects.”
“Very interesting, I wonder, you are such an extraordinary young man with an amazing talent. Tell me something, does this family of yours that sends you out to sit on this rock truly appreciate you?”
The blower looked confused, he had heard her ask him a question but he did not know what she had actually asked. She smiled at him: “I am not trying to trick you or confuse you. Perhaps I should introduce us. On my left you will see a hulk of a man, he is indeed the strongest man you will ever meet. On my right is the finest shot in the kingdom. These are my extraordinary men, together we are going to gain our fortune from King Ephrahim. I would like you to be one of my men too.”
The Blower was a straightforward young man and asked a straightforward question: “What is your special skill?”
Before the leader could answer the Hunter stepped forward saying: “Come on down from your perch, boy. Lie down on the ground here and take a deep breath and our leader will demonstrate her prowess.”
Being a straightforward young man, the Blower hopped down from the rock and dutifully did as he was told. He was a little surprised to see the leader strip off her trousers and knickers and stand over his head. Surprised and rather pleased. He had never before been given the chance to examine between a woman’s legs, it was as if her smooth muscular thighs extended into a fold. An exciting fold that came from the deep crevice of her bottom and extended to the hairy mound at the front and in the middle was the secret of excitement he had imagined when he masturbated on his rock. He would have gasped had be not been holding his breath as the leader squatted down on him, a little flower emerging from the secret spot. The petals opening up as they do for the sunshine in the morning. He managed to sniff in a tiny amount of the aroma of the approaching flower before his lungs started feeling like bursting. The aroma was like how wet moss in a rock pool smelt at the end of a hard working day on a hot spring afternoon. Finally his lips kissed the opening, his tongue slipped out to taste the flower. It was saltier than he thought it would be, he rubbed his tongue about to investigate the flavour: he liked it but he was unsure how to categorise it. It was definitely unlike anything he had tasted before. Wet, slightly salty, somehow a little bit creamy. It was not like any food his mother had cooked him but it was pleasant. He could happily lick on this … his thoughts were interrupted by the leader’s groan. Of course, it would feel good for her, he knew that sex was nice for women he just hadn’t actually experienced it. He thought he would blow gently into the fold like he did for the tip of his penis when he was wanking. He squeezed tight his nostrils and let two little jets of air shoot out while he continued to probe and stroke with his tongue. The air lifted the little hood and circulated about her clitoris. The little nub vibrated as electrical excitements flitted away from where his tongue brushed and she came. She clamped down, grinding into his face and covering him with her juices. He did not dare to move for fear of the orgasm that was much more violent than any he had ever imagined. Then she stood.
“You can breath again, my talented young man,” she said while dressing. “Now, answer me, will you be my man, will you seek your fortune with us?”
So it was that the ragtag group continued on, walking in near silence until they came upon a man resting with his one leg lying by his side.
“That is a handy way you have of resting your leg,” the leader joked with him.
“I am a runner. I take off one leg so I don’t go too fast, for if I run with both legs I will fly faster than a bird.” The runner did not look at the leader when he replied, making her mistrust his words.
“If you are indeed as quick as your tongue you could join us as we chase our fortune but you would need to give us a little taster of your special skill.”
“And why would a magnificent gazelle like me put myself through your little charade?”
“A little gazelle sitting alone underneath a tree, alone so far away from the herd is vulnerable to the approach of a lioness.”
The leader had knelt beside the man, she started walking her fingers up his leg. As her fingers marched along him she felt the firmness of his legs, this man certainly had a runner’s body underneath his loose fitting clothes. She decided she would try him out a little more. “The lioness will come up behind the tree and pounce when the little gazelle least expects it.” This said she grabbed his balls, holding them with enough pressure to let him know she would not let go but not tightly enough to hurt him.
He lifted his hand towards her but she shook her head. He decided to wait to see what she was going to do.
She unbuckled his trousers with her other hand and reached beneath the folds. She wrapped her fingers about his cock as it lay folded into a ball. She held it while she gently squeezed and relaxed her grip on his balls. The cock grew, filling her hand and expanding beyond it. He glanced across at the group of men watching them.
“Look at me, look in my eyes.” She spoke as she started to stroke.
“The little lioness is hunting her baby gazelle. She has found the tree. Concentrate on the feeling of the little lioness on her tree.” She gradually increased her speed and squeezed his balls again.
“Is my little gazelle hiding here, is there one gazelle or are all the little gazelles in here. Are they about to make a run for it?”
She felt his balls tighten and she poked the tip of his penis out so she could catch all his semen as it squirted out.
“Now my young runner, your little gazelles have all been captured by the lioness, every last one of them. So tell me, would you like to audition for our band of fortune seekers?”
The words spoken she released him. The runner sprang to his feet, picked up his leg with one hand and his trousers with the other. He disappeared as fast as he had claimed he could run. The group continued their walk in silence and in single file. Moments later he appeared from another direction: “Is that quick enough for you?”
And again he ran off, this time they came upon him five minutes ahead of them in the path sitting as they had found him earlier. “So,” he asked, “can I join your band of bandits?”
The leader smiled at him but did not reply. She did not reply for the following five times as he ran away and returned. Only on the sixth time when he fell in-line walking behind the hunter that she called to him: “Welcome back, my man.”
The scraggy group continued their single file trek until they came to a man wearing his hat at a jaunty angle. His unkempt hair was barely contained by the black beret. His bearded face turned from its contemplation of the horizon to concentrate on the leader. His stare was directed at her eyes but somehow she had the feeling that he was looking through her to the horizon, or perhaps looking at her horizons.
“Manners, manners,” said the leader, “with your hat like that you look like a jack-fool.”
“If I put it straight I cause such a frost that even the birds flying by will drop to the ground frozen. You are an interesting group, prey tell me where are you off to with such sternness?”
The leader was so affected by the sound of the man’s voice that her usual wit deserted her. “We are going to claim our fortune from the king. We have a strong man, a hunter, a blower and a runner. Would you like to join my men?”
“What do you bring to the group?”
The leader was flummoxed, the hunter needed to answer for her: “She is the glue that binds our rugged group together. Without her we would achieve nothing more than a man sitting in the wilderness with skew hat, no insult intended. She is the essence, a concentration of the music that makes us get up the morning. She is instinct and survival. She is lust, love and desire rolled into one. What she offers is as important as the fortune we are seeking, indeed any fortune we can get for her would only be a part payment of what she gives us on our quest.”
The man turned his gaze back to the leader.
“Impressive, right. I will walk with you.”
“OK, yes, come walk with me.”
“I will do”
“So, are you from these parts?”
“No, actually, I have traveled a long way from my home.”
“Really, where is that?”
“I come from a forgotten place, forgotten in times of war, forgotten in times of peace. My people struggle every day to feed themselves and their children. I have come to represent them, I have come to seek out justice for my people…”
The four men watched as the leader and the frost man walked away from them, walking side by side chatting with their heads leaning towards each other. The hunter spoke first: “We have come this far, might as well follow along.”
“I was just here for the money, anyway.”
“Yes, and I. And we should keep an eye on them.”
“Yes, in case things go wrong.”
The rough hewn group arrived at the king’s town the following morning to find a day of sport was on offer. The zenith of the games was a race with the king’s daughter who was famed far and wide for her running ability. If the challenger won he would win the daughter’s hand in marriage but if he lost he would lose his head, as was the brutal nature of sport in those days. The leader was full again of confidence when she approached the king, the silliness of her walk with the frost man forgotten now there was a task at hand.
“My noble king, I bring before you my champion to challenge your daughter to a race, is my challenge accepted?”
“Foolish woman, in the unlikely event of your man winning you would not be able to marry my daughter, what do you name as your prize?”
“The right to state whom she shall marry.”
“I accept your terms, and when my daughter wins both your man’s head and yours will roll.”
The race was announced to be run on the hour. The crowds gathered along the route, the elders and respected members of the kingdom claimed their seats near the finish where they could see both the race and the guillotine.
The hour approached and when the town clock struck the two ran, the runner was soon clear of the princess and, as per the rules of the race he filled his pitcher from the river and carried it back. But he tired and felt a need to rest. He was so far ahead of the princess that he lay down and rested his head on the skull of a horse that was lying nearby, for, he said to himself, I wouldn’t want to feel too comfortable. Alas, he fell asleep and the princess caught up with him and emptied his pitcher. From where they stood the rudimentary group watched in horror but the hunter remained calm. He drew out his rifle, took aim and shot the skull from under the runner’s head. The runner woke with a start, realised immediately what had happened and ran as if, well, as if his life depended on it. He raced again to the stream and back arriving a yard ahead of the princess.
The king and the princess did not take well to being beaten by a commoner so they made a plan. The king ordered his chef’s to prepare a feast for the indigent group, to lay it out in a dungeon room and when they were eating to heat the room unbearably and fill it with toxic fumes.
The tenderfoot group gathered happily in the room to drink their wine and celebrate their victory. The leader was sure the king would join them shortly to find how he could buy his way out of the deal. She raised her glass as the door clanked shut behind them:
“My men, my amazing men. Today I raise my glass to you. We celebrate the first step to our fortune. The negotiations with the king will start shortly. What you need to remember is we are on the high ground and they are in the mud. So let us drink our glass as victors elect.”
All the men finished emptied their glasses, after all it was rude to leave drink for the next toast.
The frost man looked at the leader’s glass: “You didn’t empty your glass, you know what that means. Forfeit!”
“Right?” She often used the ploy of not finishing her drink in a toast as a forfeit usually got the party off to a good start.
“What do you say, lads, should she give us all a kiss?”
Five heads nodded in agreement, and anticipation. First she stepped towards the strong man who was seated to her left. She was still holding her glass in her hand, she raised it saying: “My strong man, we have got ourselves at an advantage. Soon we will need your incredible strength to carry away the king’s treasures, so I raise my glass to you for what you will do.” She leaned down to him, ran her fingers along his muscular shoulders and slipped her hand into his shirt to feel his chest while their lips came together. Their kiss was tender, their lips brushing and hovering together, her tongue ran along his lips touching his teeth in places. Her hand had squeezed beneath his belt to reach his cock when she drew her head back a little. She massaged his cock for half a minuted while looking in his eyes as if the others were not in the room.
She stood and the men all emptied their glassed in their toast, but she, again, didn’t.
“I think that is another forfeit,” said the frost man, “as is the tradition, we ask you to remove an item of clothing.”
The leader bent down and in a businesslike fashion she removed her shoes. She walked to the door, slipped the bolt as she did not think shoeless was the right attire to negotiate with a king. Next she walked round to the blower resting a hand on his shoulder: “My man, with your skill you can move mountains. I have a feeling we will need such powers to get what we want from this king. So to you I raise my glass for you are our ace in the hole, no pun intended.” She ran her hand down the outside of his shirt to his cock, massaging it as her lips touched the blower’s. Their kiss was even more gentle than the previous, their lips barely touching but the anticipation was great. She ran her tongue along the amazing lips as his cock pressed at the fabric of her trousers. She bumped his nose in a playful way before withdrawing.
She stood waiting for the men to finish their drinks. “I know, a forfeit,” she said. She pointed her toes on her left foot pulling the sock off in a flourish then repeated the trick with her right foot. It was functional but all the men at the table thought it highly seductive.
She walked round to the runner. He had shifted his chair away from the table so she straddled his lap facing him. She held her glass aloft declaring: “Our hero, to you!” She wiggled her bottom on his lap she could feel his cock respond as she bent her neck to kiss him. The kiss was firmer than the previous two, their mouths opened in unison as if they had kissed many times before, their tongues danced as she ground against his cock. When she sat up on his lap she took a small sip of her drink.
She watched the runner down his drink before standing, turning, and sitting back on his lap, facing away from him. “Another forfeit,” she said quietly. She leaned back on the runner to unbuckle and undo her trousers. She lifted her bum slightly to slide her trousers down before bending forward to grind her bum on the runner’s lap, the thin material of her knickers giving little protection against the bulge in the runner’s trousers. When her trousers were off she tossed them to her chair.
She slinked round to the hunter who had, unsurprisingly, pushed his chair clear of the table. He held up his glass and said: “I am sorry, I must forfeit too.”
She smiled at him: “It took you a while to catch on.” She straddled his lap and started unbuttoning his shirt so each button punctuated a sentence in her toast: “My hunter. We are here because of you. Because of your fabulous eye. Your steady hand. We salute you too. To our hunter!” She bend to shower kisses on his chest, avoiding his lips completely.
This time she emptied her glass but said: “Silly me, the glass was not full for the toast. I will have to forfeit anyway.”
She stood up, hooked her fingers beneath her knickers and slipped them left and right. She turned away from him, bent forward and slowly revealed to him first her bottom them her peach. “Now is the time for your kiss, my hunter.” He leaned forward and slipped his tongue into the ripe juicy fruit, probing, delving into its loveliness. He held raised his hands to her bum to keep her in place but she wiggled a little and stood upright, her shirt falling to cover her bum.
She looked about the table. “I don’t think any of you naughty boys finished your drinks, I think it is forfeits for every single one of you!”
She sashayed round to the frost man who was sitting with his trousers and pants round his ankles, his cock stiff and held in one hand.
“My mystery man of promise,” she said to him as she waited for him to take his hand away. “I haven’t quite figured out how you fit into our tale,” she continued straddling his lap. Although she let their sexes touch she did not enclose him. “It is getting very hot in here, perhaps it is time to straighten your hat,” she straightened his hat and kissed him. She kissed him with trepidation, she was worried he would not like her kiss. He kissed her back, his lips moving in time with hers and suddenly everything was cool and good. She felt the tension leave her body and she wiggled her hips letting the tip of his cock slip into her. She kept her hips high so the penetration remained shallow, she needed to stay fairly still for fear of him slipping out.
“My boys, I want to feel every one of you inside me today.”
She sat down feeling filled, she rocked her hip, she gyrated her hips causing sliding sensations all inside her. She felt her body begin to tingle anticipating her first orgasm approaching. She kept grinding hoping the frost man would be patient enough to allow her to grind until she came. She loved the feeling of his cock, she loved the way he was reading her, rocking his hips on time with her and she came, squeezing down on him and clinging to him. When her breathing relaxed he put her hands on her hips and started lifting her so she rode up and down on him. This was the sensation that excited him and she went with it. Faster, faster until she thought she would have to give up with exhaustion, but his face tensed as he came. She collapsed onto him breathing heavily.
When she got her breath back, she stood up, pushed the food to clear a space on the table, lay back and said: “Boys, who is next?” She was a little surprised her strong man was the first. He was enthusiastic, fucking her quickly. He came quickly and was almost apologetic but mostly happy.
The runner was the next to step up. His cock was long and thin. She enjoyed the sensation of him sliding inside her but it was not bringing an orgasm. The runner took it slow, taking time to enjoy the feeling on his cock before gradually speeding up until stopping completely as he was about to come. Both of them felt the gush as he came inside her.
There was quite a long wait before the blower stepped forward. He simply used her as if he were wanking. He stroked in, out, in, out, grunted and stepped away from her.
The hunter jumped in quickly, as if he had been waiting right behind the blower. He tried rocking, he tried stroking her, he tried slipping a finger in her anus but he couldn’t get her to orgasm. Eventually he came while trying. He smiled wryly at her before taking his seat.
The leader lay on the table feeling hot. Hot and bothered. She looked about at her men, they had all wilted. This was not post coital bliss, something was wrong. She stood but found the floor was hot, burning hot.
“My men, something is wrong. The king should have been here by now.”
The men had all put their feet up, they were breathing shallowly, quickly. She pulled herself to the other side of the table, reached down for her shoes and slipped them on. She walked to the door, the rubber on the soles of her shoes soft and sticky from the heat. The door was locked.
“Strong man, come break this door.”
Her voice was tiny, the sound barely travelled to her own ears. She took all her strength and stumbled back to the frost man.
“Now is your time. Now you must straighten your hat. Save us with your frost.”
The frost man’s head lolled. She sat her still naked arse down on his still naked lap. She reached up to straighten it herself.
She wiggled his hat again.
Still nothing happened.
The frost man smiled wryly. “Sorry, I was nothing more than a pretty face. My hat was never magical.”
The leader leant forward, slowly, dying with her men. Dying, at least, with her shoes on.
The next day the king posted pictures of the leader and her crew claiming the villains had welshed on their deal and left the princess in the lurch. The leader and her men were soon forgotten, they had no lasting effect on the kingdom.