Taking Karre (Divinity Warriors 4)

by Pillow Michelle M.

  “Yea.”

  “What for?” She threaded her hand on his arm, but only because she needed to steady herself. As the cart squeaked and horse hooves softened with distance, the surrounding forest’s gentle noises became apparent. The light hum of insects mingled with the slightly louder call of distant birds. In the illumination of late day, the new spring leaves seemed to glow. Tiny veins threaded them in imperfect symmetry as they crashed and danced above in the trees, taunting their fallen, brown brethren on the forest floor below.

  “Water,” he stated simply.

  Karre stopped walking and dropped his arm. “Water? I was traded for water? Are you joking?”

  “No. The Divinity aliens wanted some of the blue mineral water and offered us brides in return.” He gave a small laugh. “They had great talks about the matter until finally King Wilhelm agreed to give them one small vial per bride.”

  As he moved on, the horse’s head neared her back. She took several fast steps before falling into a leisurely pace beside him. “A vial of water. I am worth a small vial of water. That’s insulting. Is it at least a cure for age? Or some kind of miracle water? Is it an elixir that makes you men big and strong when you drink it?”

  “No, most would not say it is magic and we do not drink it unless desperate. It can make you sick. Though, it is blue.”

  “Oh great, you can’t drink it but at least it’s a pretty color. Decorators and spa owners everywhere will be so happy.” She gave a wry laugh. The insult was too much. She remembered the henchmen had given her a bowl of such water to clean up with at Battlewar. She had thought it was mixed with some kind of soap for cleaning.

  Brides for bathing water. Wonderful. Even her thoughts dripped with sarcasm.

  “If it cheers you, the water is special. It stays warm no matter how long it stays away from heat. It has saved men from the cold.” He swung his hand over his head and smacked a low branch.

  Karre laughed dryly, stating, “Oh yes, that makes me feel much better.”

  They walked in silence and slowly the feeling returned to her backside. She breathed deeply, taking in the fresh forest air. It had been so long since she’d had time to relax and enjoy a simple walk. Reaching a fallen log across the path, she started to step over it. Vidar’s hand was instantly on her arm, helping her over.

  “Have you ever traveled to another plane?” She’d originally meant the question as a way to start a conversation, but as she said the words she realized the strategic cunningness of it. If he had traveled, she’d find out how.

  “No. Before Divinity, people only came through the fairy rings. Since we’re always at war, fairies do not like our land and they do not leave rings for us to travel through.” He didn’t let go of her as they cleared the log. “But since I was a boy, I’ve been fascinated by the idea of other worlds. I love hearing the stories of such strange places.”

  “Where is the Divinity portal?” she asked. “Perhaps I could take you to another world? I know of some nice ones. We wouldn’t be gone long. Think of it as a vacation.”

  “No.” The answer was flat and the lightness of his tone faded. “I cannot leave the borderlands. There is much to be done.”

  “Oh?”

  “How about you? How many planes have you traveled to?” he asked instead of elaborating.

  Countless. Hundreds. Hundreds of hundreds.

  “A few.” Karre pulled her arm from his grasp under the pretense of stretching. When she finished, she dropped her arm to the side, putting distance between their bodies. The ground squished beneath her feet and she grimaced as cold, wet earth clung to her short boot. “Ew.”

  “And the world you are from?” He offered his arm so she might steady herself as she swiped at her foot. “Is it like this one?”

  “No. It’s nothing like this one.” Karre gave up on the mud and wiped her hands on the ends of her borrowed tunic shirt. Dirt smudged over the red.

  “Is it—?”

  “I don’t hear the knights,” she interrupted so he couldn’t probe more into her home plane. Turning her full attention to him, she stepped into his path, forcing him to stop walking. “We have the forest to ourselves.”

  “Are you not sore from the ride?” Vidar’s words might have held a hint of denial, but his eyes lit with interest.

  “Come with me,” she pulled him off the path into the trees, gripping his tunic in her fist. The horse began to follow, but Vidar made a noise and the beast stopped, instead grazing alongside the path.

  “I wish to speak—”

  “Here is good.” Karre slid the hand on his chest up, pulling the material to expose the laces at his waist. With a deft tug, she untied them.

  He looked as if he might protest the quickness of her advances. “My lady, I—ah!”

  Karre tugged his pants down to his knees, letting them slide the rest of the way to trap his ankles. His cock had started to rise with interest and she cupped the shaft, stroking the length until it firmed against her palm. She licked her lips, dragging her tongue leisurely as he watched.

  All questions left his eyes as he gave in. Karre smiled, took the hem of his tunic and bunched it by his chest, out of her way. “Hold this.”

  His hand pressed flat, holding it up. Karre sank to her knees, scratching her nails against his hips. He tensed, threading his fingers into her hair, rubbing along her temple insistently. Looking up at him, she kept her eyes on his as she leaned forward. Her lips parted, slipping around the wide tip of his erection. Vidar’s breathing deepened.

  Karre worked her mouth down his length, sucking gently. He groaned in satisfaction. His eyes closed as he tilted his head back in rapture. She rolled her tongue along his shaft, all the while running her nails down the backs of his thighs. His strong abdomen muscles rippled beneath his flesh. He rocked in time with her mouth. She felt him quiver and reached for his balls. Almost instantly, he jerked, coming inside her mouth. Swallowing, she let his cock slide from her lips.

  Vidar breathed heavily, his hand dropping from her hair. He lowered to the ground, joining her. Crawling forward, he forced her onto her back. He brushed his lips against hers. “My turn.”

  He tugged at her laces, pulling her breeches free. Then, eagerly, he dipped his head between her thighs, as if he’d been waiting all day to taste her. He moaned, the sound vibrating her clit. He licked along her pussy, sucking, biting, thrusting his tongue inside her.

  Her ass pressed into dry leaves and the crunching sound of their destruction punctuated each movement. Vidar massaged her hips with his hands, rocking them up toward his mouth. Karre gripped his head. Tension built, filling her with a bittersweet agony. She wanted the sensations to last forever, but she couldn’t stop the rough jerk of release that washed over her.

  When the last tremors subsided, Vidar looked up and gave her a satisfied grin. “The fortress is close.” His pants still bound his ankles and he pulled them up as he stood. “There, we can bathe and dine.” He reached to pull her up. “And find you an appropriate gown.”

  * * * * *

  “You said the fortress was close, I had no idea it was only a hundred-pace walk. Why didn’t you insist we finish the ride?”

  Vidar watched his wife from the corner of his eye. Behind them, his horse walked a lazy pace without having to be led. “Because you asked me to stop and it was within my power to grant you the simple request. Oskar will see that everything is taken care of in my stead.”

  Though small compared to the great city of Battlewar, Spearhead had a symmetrical charm—for a fortress on the brink of a vicious Caniba attack. A single watchtower lifted high into the sky, lording over the square-shaped castle beneath. Thorn hedges formed a perimeter around the outside wall, surrounded by the murky waters of a moat. Vidar kept an eye on Karre, wondering what she thought of her new home. Surely, the sight would impress her.

  “Sir Vidar!” yelled a knight from atop the battlements, announcing Vidar’s arrival to those behind the stronghold’s wall. “And La
dy Karre!”

  “Rejoice, Sir Vidar has chosen!” a woman near the front gate shouted, prompting a chorus of others to join her. “Rejoice! Rejoice, Sir Vidar has chosen!”

  Karre stiffened at the words, her face tightening. He watched a strange expression filter over her, first shock, then resolve, fading to determination. Glancing in his direction, her determination was replaced by a light smile. But he studied her eyes and their intensity was nowhere near the lighthearted emotion she wanted him to believe.

  Taking her arm, he led her over the bridge and through the opened front gates. The raised stone of the bailey wall surrounded the courtyard, looping about from one side of the main castle to the other in an oval shape. Atop the wall that stood several feet wide was the walkway surrounded by battlements with corner spiral stairwells leading from the ground to the battlements. Next to the tower, the main part of Spearhead Fortress sprawled along the backside of the wall.

  The wide courtyard teemed with activity, just like Battlewar City but on a smaller scale. Unlike Battlewar, Spearhead had no market, no tightly pressed homes filling tiny streets, but there was a self-sustaining brewery and gardens for food. Livestock was tended in the north, the meat part of the supplies they brought back with them.

  Now, the movement stopped as those gathered cheered the new couple. Two guards pushed the oversized doors of the main gate closed and secured them with a thick timber. Karre whistled lightly. When Vidar looked at her, she said, “This will do.”

  He grinned with pride and excitement. “Welcome to your home, my lady.”

  * * * * *

  “Welcome home indeed.” Karre gave a wry laugh as she looked around her new bedchamber. It was adequate in size with pale stone walls, a smoothed stone floor, large stone fireplace and a stone bench carved beneath a narrow stone window. “This is exactly like the time I spent a month trapped in a cave because Lopa-lis were after me.”

  Okay, so it wasn’t exactly like the cave. It did have furnishings.

  “My lady?”

  Karre turned to Jordinne, the maid Vidar assigned to assist her while he left for some mysterious duty. She was a pretty girl, youthful in appearance and temperament. She suited Karre just fine. Youth was easier to manipulate. “I asked if it would be possible to have a bath. You do bathe here, right? They gave me a bowl of water at Battlewar when I would much prefer a tub or shower. Even a waterfall would do.”

  “Yea, my lady, we bathe,” Jordinne giggled. “But here in Spearhead we do not dress as men—not like those heathen ladies of a Battlewar.”

  Like every other woman Karre had seen in Spearhead, the servant wore a long flowing dress cinched tight with a corset top that dipped low to lay bare a fair amount of cleavage. Karre wondered if Jordinne had ever seen a woman from Battlewar, because when Karre had been there she’d not seen a single lady there dressed as a man.

  Well, she thought, looking at her own clothes, no one but myself.

  “Yes, they so seem a barbaric lot compared to this place,” Karre agreed to win the woman over. It worked. Jordinne’s smile widened. “And with your great enemy so close, it is a great accomplishment to remain so civil.”

  Jordinne nodded enthusiastically. “Yea, my lady.”

  “I require a bath,” Karre said, slipping comfortably into her new role. If this plane demanded she play the part of Lady Karre of Spearhead, so be it. She had pretended to be a lady of means before. “I will also need gowns and shoes worthy of Spearhead as well as sturdy clothes for riding. Food and drink.”

  Karre again looked around the stone tomb of her chamber. One door led out of the room, opening up to Vidar’s bedchambers. She’d been informed that noble women did not sleep with their husband throughout the night. The large bed dominated Karre’s room and had been covered with a decorative fur, but the muted browns and grays of the sewn squares only added to the overall drabness.

  “And, if possible,” she continued, “I need some material samples, some lightweight chain or rope, someone who can sew, a couple swords, a knife or dagger. Hmm, actually, you’d better have several weapons sent up for my inspection.”

  Jordinne watched her, not moving.

  Karre sighed. “See to it, please.”

  “Yea, my lady.” Jordinne nodded and hurried from the room, her eyes deep in concentration.

  Karre relaxed and tugged at her clothing, stripping out of the traveling garb. Completely naked, she crawled onto the bed and under the fur covers. The soft mattress molded to her body, cushioning her sore muscles. She moaned, content for the moment. Maybe the chamber wasn’t so bad after all.

  * * * * *

  Karre awoke hours later, rested and incredibly aroused from endless dreams filled with the wicked temptation of Vidar’s masculine body. In her sleep, she had pulled the covers off her chest, revealing her naked breasts. Sitting up, she found that someone had been in to light the fire.

  Karre pulled the blanket up to quickly hide herself as she looked around. The room was empty. The clothing she had discarded earlier was gone, replaced by a neatly folded gown on the end of her bed. A tray carrying a trencher of meats and bread was left on a low table next to a goblet. Leaning from the bed, she grabbed the goblet and took a long drink of the sweet liquor before setting the empty goblet back down with a sigh.

  She didn’t like the fact that someone had come in while she slept—let alone spent enough time to light a fire, deliver laundry and bring in food. It wasn’t like her mind to let down its guard. She would have to take more care in the future.

  By the light coming through the window, she knew the hour was late. Karre kicked off the fur. The room was warm and her flushed skin nearly glowed in the firelight. A bath had been left near the fire, the blue water warm and inviting when she skimmed her fingers over the surface. Instead of stepping into the metal tub, she went to the door. The tub was small, but she would find a way to fit Vidar in there with her, even if she had to sit on his lap—especially if she had to sit on his lap.

  His room was empty. Glancing over the sparse décor just to be sure, she frowned. Shouldn’t he have come back from his duties by now? She had a hard time believing that a man of his passions would have checked in on her and left her to sleep.

  Disappointed, she left the door open and went to her bath. Heat caressed every inch beneath the surface of the mineral water. She lifted her arm, watching the blue droplets rain down from her fingers like liquid sapphires. On the floor next to her, she found sweet smelling soaps. She took her time, watching the open door, waiting for Vidar to come in and catch her naked in the tub.

  Karre soaped her breasts before standing to wash her stomach and thighs. The lather caused her hands to slip pleasurably over her form and she bit her lip. Images of Vidar invaded her senses—strong, sexy, erotic, masturbating as he faced the wall. She smiled, her knees weakening as she sank back into the water.

  Karre leaned her head back, rubbing her soapy breasts while reaching between her thighs. She massaged her clit, rubbing it in small circles. Lazy eyes stayed fixed on the door, willing him to come to her. She pressed harder. He didn’t come to her and she couldn’t hold off the tremors of release.

  * * * * *

  “Lord Ronen’s man has arrived. He informs me that they have recovered Lady Jayne from the forest. She was abducted by Caniba scouts,” Sir Oskar said, joining Vidar along the low ridge. Moss-covered trees lined the wetlands, beyond the shallow waters that surrounded the island hill of their new encampment. Patches of vegetation grew in the water, forming a random pattern in the surface. It was the perfect location, almost pretty but for the stale air of the surrounding marshlands that settled thickly in their lungs, carrying the faint scent of death. “He brings a missive from the king.”

  Vidar looked from the mossy trees to Oskar’s hand, taking the letter. “She made it to the borderlands, then?”

  “No. They were discovered near Widowsrock.” Oskar’s frown mirrored Vidar’s.

  “That far north? In the fo
rest?” He broke the wax seal, not looking at the letter as he stared at Oskar for confirmation.

  “Yea, but that is all I know. The man would tell me no more, only insisted on my honor that I bring this to you.”

  Vidar hurriedly unfolded the parchment to find two pages. He read over them quickly. “King Wilhelm says Sorceress Magda’s men were caught with maps of Staria. They are charting routes through the forest originating at Spearhead and heading north toward Battlewar and Fallenrock. The king urges me to renew efforts to find the sorceress. Everything he has is at our disposal. He sends troops to reinforce the borderlands and the forests.”

  “Sorceress Magda has yet to show herself. All we have are rumors that she is even near here.” Oscar took the first page of the missive when Vidar offered it to him. They had shared much and owed each other their lives more than either of them could count. “For all we know she could be five miles underground and fifty miles from the border.”

  “She must be close. I feel it like an oncoming sickness—close but not quite within reach.” Vidar turned, looking in the direction of his fortress. It was impossible to see it from where he was, but he imagined it perfectly. Lady Karre would be there, settling into her new home, her new life. He thought of writing her but had not found the time to put pen to paper. Now, with news of Magda’s daring, he would have even less time for it.

  Besides, what would he say with no news of battle to speak of? Should anything happen to him, she’d be informed by one of his men so simply saying “I’m alive” seemed pointless. Perhaps she wasn’t concerned. Perhaps she was. Perhaps she didn’t think of him at all.

  She is probably too busy to give me more than a passing thought. Though the most likely scenario, he found the idea bothered him somewhat.

  Shaking his bride from his thoughts with great effort, he sighed and turned to the rectangular tents outlined by firelight in the coming dusk. Tiny sparks from the flames danced in the evening sky before dying out. The tents, varying in sizes, spread out over the high clearing on an orderly grid to create pathways. The larger tents were in the middle with progressively smaller ones fanning round them. Banners hung from the tent flaps, pinned to the opened entryways. Their brilliant colors stuck out against the light caramel of the canvas.