Queen Arthur
(Futanari Erotica Fairy Tales #6)
By
Julie Law
Copyright ©2014
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Epilogue
Prologue
A
sword laid embedded in the rock, its hilt and the beginning of the blade the
only parts visible, yet that was enough to show its sheer beauty.
The
grip was made of black stone-like substance, uniform and smooth. Silver adorned
the pommel and the cross-guard while golden lettering could be seen all over
the sword – letters of a kind that most of those gathered around the stone had
never seen before.
Of
those men only Merlin, wisest of all wizards, could read those golden words,
but he wasn’t preoccupied with their content, already knowing what the words
said. He was too worried about other matters.
Part
of him felt like scoffing.
He
was surrounded by kings, nobles and princes, yet he felt like he was surrounded
by children, kids who were constantly provoking each other.
He
was worried about what would happen to his country if one of them took the
sword from the stone.
A
war was likely, but Merlin supposed he could do nothing about it. Not at this
point. His only comfort was that – behaving like that – none of these men would
be the chosen one.
He
shouldn’t have obliged the request of the Lady of the Lake.
He
should have ignored the fae woman and thrown the sword into the lake the moment
he understood what it was, but he had been awed by the possibilities the Lady
had dangled in front of him.
A
United Kingdom, the Isle of Britain reunited under the leadership of a single
king, ending the strife of brother against brother that had been going on for
centuries.
Merlin
shook his head.
It
was folly.
The
men around him wouldn’t bow down to just anyone – simply taking Excalibur from
the stone wouldn’t be enough to convince them, no matter how powerful it was …
and Excalibur was powerful, exceedingly so.
Merlin
could feel its magic from several feet away, a golden pool of pure energy that
would be capable of destroying anything in its path.
The
wizard turned his back on the stone and walked away, needing to be alone for
some moments.
At
first he had hoped one of the wisest kings would take the sword, pry it from
the stone and wield it – it would be easier for the others to fall in line if
the prophesized ruler was already powerful or respected.
In
that case, Merlin’s backup and Excalibur would make sure a new regime would
swiftly follow, but it was not to be.
Not
even Uther – who Merlin grudgingly admitted as the wisest king in the isle –
succeeded in taking the sword from the stone.
Tensions
increased when the last of the British rulers tried to lift Excalibur and
failed. Those without heirs turned their backs on their counterparts and left
the gathering, muttering behind their backs, calling Merlin a charlatan.
They
were afraid of what was to come.
Others
remained, waiting for their allies and retainers to have a try, hoping the
wielder of Excalibur featured amongst their ranks.
As
time passed more and more men left the scene, until only the most powerful and cunning
remained – those that understood that only by being in the thick of things
would they be able to affect the outcome.
Merlin
worried.
He
could vividly remember the words from the Lady of the Lake, words he made his
own when he convinced the kings of Britain to gather here.
Whoever pulls the sword from the stone is the rightful King of the
Britons.
The
wizard sighed.
He
felt old and, for a moment, he wanted to give up, leave these men alone and
rest, but then he heard it – the sound of laughs and mocking. He turned around
and saw a child approach the stone under the scrutiny of those gathered.
Merlin
couldn’t figure out much about the child from afar, seeing only the lad’s long
golden hair matted with dirt … and yet there was something child’s pose, some
inherent confidence that made Merlin
(Futanari Erotica Fairy Tales #6)
By
Julie Law
Copyright ©2014
All Rights Reserved
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Epilogue
Prologue
A
sword laid embedded in the rock, its hilt and the beginning of the blade the
only parts visible, yet that was enough to show its sheer beauty.
The
grip was made of black stone-like substance, uniform and smooth. Silver adorned
the pommel and the cross-guard while golden lettering could be seen all over
the sword – letters of a kind that most of those gathered around the stone had
never seen before.
Of
those men only Merlin, wisest of all wizards, could read those golden words,
but he wasn’t preoccupied with their content, already knowing what the words
said. He was too worried about other matters.
Part
of him felt like scoffing.
He
was surrounded by kings, nobles and princes, yet he felt like he was surrounded
by children, kids who were constantly provoking each other.
He
was worried about what would happen to his country if one of them took the
sword from the stone.
A
war was likely, but Merlin supposed he could do nothing about it. Not at this
point. His only comfort was that – behaving like that – none of these men would
be the chosen one.
He
shouldn’t have obliged the request of the Lady of the Lake.
He
should have ignored the fae woman and thrown the sword into the lake the moment
he understood what it was, but he had been awed by the possibilities the Lady
had dangled in front of him.
A
United Kingdom, the Isle of Britain reunited under the leadership of a single
king, ending the strife of brother against brother that had been going on for
centuries.
Merlin
shook his head.
It
was folly.
The
men around him wouldn’t bow down to just anyone – simply taking Excalibur from
the stone wouldn’t be enough to convince them, no matter how powerful it was …
and Excalibur was powerful, exceedingly so.
Merlin
could feel its magic from several feet away, a golden pool of pure energy that
would be capable of destroying anything in its path.
The
wizard turned his back on the stone and walked away, needing to be alone for
some moments.
At
first he had hoped one of the wisest kings would take the sword, pry it from
the stone and wield it – it would be easier for the others to fall in line if
the prophesized ruler was already powerful or respected.
In
that case, Merlin’s backup and Excalibur would make sure a new regime would
swiftly follow, but it was not to be.
Not
even Uther – who Merlin grudgingly admitted as the wisest king in the isle –
succeeded in taking the sword from the stone.
Tensions
increased when the last of the British rulers tried to lift Excalibur and
failed. Those without heirs turned their backs on their counterparts and left
the gathering, muttering behind their backs, calling Merlin a charlatan.
They
were afraid of what was to come.
Others
remained, waiting for their allies and retainers to have a try, hoping the
wielder of Excalibur featured amongst their ranks.
As
time passed more and more men left the scene, until only the most powerful and cunning
remained – those that understood that only by being in the thick of things
would they be able to affect the outcome.
Merlin
worried.
He
could vividly remember the words from the Lady of the Lake, words he made his
own when he convinced the kings of Britain to gather here.
Whoever pulls the sword from the stone is the rightful King of the
Britons.
The
wizard sighed.
He
felt old and, for a moment, he wanted to give up, leave these men alone and
rest, but then he heard it – the sound of laughs and mocking. He turned around
and saw a child approach the stone under the scrutiny of those gathered.
Merlin
couldn’t figure out much about the child from afar, seeing only the lad’s long
golden hair matted with dirt … and yet there was something child’s pose, some
inherent confidence that made Merlin
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