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Unable to see while she descended, she fell to her hands and knees in front of the scaffold. Yvette smiled as she cranked her tiny catapult back and changed the payload.

 Cl-Splat! Vittoria’s eyes were just coming into focus when she felt something hit her backside. Putting a hand behind her to feel her dress, she ascertained what she feared. It was honey. In moments, the bees were flocking to the skirt of her gown.  

She barely had time to process the sound, when her vision suddenly went white. Her henin and veil had been knocked loose, her eyes were burning, and her face was covered in cream.

Click-Zzzzzzip!

Vittoria was alarmed at the change in the knight’s fortunes.

She looked around for Foxglove soldiers, but none were there to protect her. She had assumed Rowena could keep her safe, but this green knight had resorted to dastardly tricks, and was defeating her. For her own safety, Vittoria thought a quick retreat was in order. 

In short order, she started furiously doffing her armor. First the pauldrons, then the gorget, then her breastplate and harness.

While one might have expected layers of clothes underneath, each of Rowena’s armor pieces was carefully molded to the shape of her ample body to provide not only protection, but maximum comfort and support. Her flesh practically spilled forth from the armor that had been endowing her with a much more lithe, compact shape than what was underneath. Helena felt disappointed that so few people were there to see Rowena’s chubby body being revealed, bouncing frantically...

The next catapult shot landed a beehive, just feet from Rowena. A bone-shaking BZZZZZZZ came from the angry insects.

 In moments they were swarming around the honey splattered over her dark armor. Her attempts to wave them away with her sword only made them angrier, and, from her face, it was apparent she had received at least a few stings under the armor. 

With a massive SPLAT, a golden glob exploded over Rowena’s black armor.

“What’s this?” she said, looking down. Turning to Helena, she laughed. “You thought to defeat me with what, honey? That’s right, run, you little fool.” And Helena was backing away to a safer distance.

That was Yvette’s cue to loose her miniature catapult.

“I like you, little ginger,” Rowena said, still parrying every move Helena made, “that’s why I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to humiliate you…slowly…and enjoy every minute of it.”

With that, Rowena started her offensive. A masterful series of cuts to Helena’s tunic let the garment blow away, leaving her in her bracers, pants, boots, and greaves. “Now!” shouted an unsurprised, but still humiliated Helena.

Meanwhile, the women in the stocks were cheering this mysterious knight on.

Vittoria, much comforted by her ally’s performance, started laughing, "pathetic!"

Rowena leapt from the scaffold, and the duel commenced.

“You have no chance, Helena the ginger. Surely you’ve heard tales of my prowess?” Rowena merely parried every attempt Helena made to attack, not even bothering to launch her own offensive. She was playing with her opponent.   “I don’t know how you expect to beat me if you can’t even hit me?” 

“Perhaps I should find a more suitable location while you deal with this,” Vittoria said, her voice cracking with cowardice.

Rowena chuckled, “No, stay and watch me school this haughty knight like I have so many others. She needs to learn how to speak to her betters.” 

“I am known as Helena the Green,” the knight said with a bow.

“I can see why,” Rowena said, gesturing toward the verdant armor. “But it will take more than a green recruit to beat me. Are you sure you don’t want to scurry back to whatever rock you slithered out from?”

“Oh, my…a challenge,” Rowena said, stepping toward the front of the scaffold.

“And presented with such confidence—I have to admit the idea of a good fight makes me tingle in all the right places. Of course, my reputation precedes me, but I don’t know who you are. May I have the pleasure of my challenger’s name?

She hadn’t been gone long, when Rowena and Vittoria were interrupted by an unexpected voice from the square below:

 “Lady Rowena! Your aggression against the peaceful people of Dacqoise has not gone unnoticed. I am here to free them.” 

“I’ll return to my cottage, I have to prepare to move somewhere better,” Lorraine said, fondling the purse of coins Vittoria had recently handed her.

“Indeed,” said Vittoria, “please join us for dinner at the echevin’s home this evening.” Lorraine made her way toward the main gain, with no idea that it was under the control of Broussard and the townspeople. 

The town square was nearly empty, aside from the pillories on the scaffold, in which Corinna, Eleanor, Clarabelle, and Patrice were locked, and the three women relaxing and enjoying occasionally tormenting them.

 Rowena hoisted her heavy sword onto her shoulder and smiled. “In a few hours, the sun will set,  we’ll head in, have ourselves a feast from the pantries of the house, and turn in. In the morning, we will have held this town for a day.” Vittoria smiled, “Yes, yes, your reward, Lady Rowena. You’d best be careful; you’re sounding like one of those mercenaries you claim to hate so much.” 

“Selma, tied them up,” the blonde with the sword said to the blonde with the mace. Selma did as told, but tied Marcia’s hands behind her back, the other two in front.

"I want to spank her with her own sword,” the other blonde laughed, and proceeded to give May a good thrashing with the flat of her blade, and then had Brittany bend over and offer up her oversized backside. After a few swings, the brunette townswoman intervened. “Tori, we’re out of time. Get them inside, we need to meet the others.”

The guards were led into Selma’s house, where they were thrown down into the dark cellar. “That should keep them ...

“Turn around, let us see the other side,” the sassy brunette with the spear ordered.

Brittany took a deep breath and pulled off her mail.

 The armor had been acting as a barrier to being seen, and without it, the weight of eyes upon her made her wince. “Whoa, she’s a biiig one!” one of the blondes said, “look at that belly and those floppy boobs!” Brittany blushed.  

“Hurry up!” said the brunette with the spear. In a short while, May was entirely nude, her large breasts hanging down. Marcia was trying to delay removing her panties, her last article of clothing.

Marcia nodded, and quickly pulled off her mail hauberk and the tunic underneath, leaving her breasts and torso exposed. May was more circumspect, removing her boots and pants first, but trying to keep her top on.

 Brittany was the slowest. Removing her boots first, she kept stalling. She really didn’t want to be exposed. 

“I suggest you quiet down,” said the brunette townswoman, waving Brittany’s spear. “Now, take off that armor and put it on the ground between you. Quickly!” ordered the blonde who had taken the sword.

(Brittany, no text)

“What did you do to me! What’s in this?” May growled rubbing her eyes.

In moments, the townswomen had taken control of the situation.

“That’s the plan,” a sassy brunette in a linen dress and corset said, as the three approached the guards.

 As if counting down from her signal, the three acted in unison, feigning to hand over the pie, but then simultaneously smushing it in the face of each guard. It was easy to disarm the distracted guards, who were forced to drop everything to wipe their burning eyes.  

“If you came to bring us lunch, we don’t have to tell anyone you were outside,” Brittany translated, “give us those pies and go quickly, before we change our minds.”

The women looked at each other, as if frightened.

 . “Unless,” May continued, “you only exited your domiciles to offer us victuals.” “Wha- What?” the blonde townswoman in a grey apron asked.