Sarin endured the soldier slobbering deferentially over his hand with good grace – thanking the fates that at last someone had recognised him.
‘What is wrong with you, Bathen?’ Lieutenant Faros said irritably. ‘Have you no shame?’
‘The shame is yours, Lieutenant,’ Zene said with an arrogant and very condescending smile. ‘Do you not recognise my companion. His head is on all your coin, is it not?’
‘Our coin?’ Faros frowned. ‘Lord Sarin’s head is still upon . . . Freygard,’ he mumbled weakly. ‘You mean?’
‘I do indeed,’ Zene confirmed, watching the lieutenant’s jaw grow slacker and slacker with disbelief.
‘It is Lord Sarin, come back to life,’ Bathen gabbled, at last letting go of Sarin’s hand.
‘You are Lord Sarin?’ The lieutenant rose awkwardly to his feet.
‘I am he,’ Sarin said coolly as he wiped his hand over the side of his doublet to remove the unpleasant remains of the soldier’s saliva. ‘I admit I do look a little different; the facial hair is not my choice,’ he agreed, touching his beard. ‘How did you recognise me, Bathen?’
‘I served you, my lord. I was a guard in your palace at Aguilar. That is why I was sent on this mission,’ Bathen explained nervously.
Sarin frowned, not recognising Bathen at all, but he’d rarely taken any notice of the many guards in his palaces. ‘You will be rewarded when we return to Percheron,’ he told Bathen. ‘As will you, Lieutenant Faros,’ he added, knowing the promise of a reward would always increase a soldier’s loyalty – greed was at the centre of most men’s hearts.
‘We were told you had perished in Freygard, Majesty,’ Faros gabbled, still overcome by the revelation. Most of his men, meanwhile, were staring at Sarin, not knowing quite what to do. ‘Forgive my disrespect.’ Faros went down on one knee. ‘I’d never seen you. We believed you dead, and I never thought . . .’
‘The matter is settled,’ Sarin said calmly, relieved they’d accepted him without question. ‘You are forgiven. It was an honest mistake, one I might have made myself in a similar situation. All I ask is that you swear allegiance to me and agree to follow all my orders from now on.’
Faros looked uneasy. ‘I already have my orders, Lord Sarin, from Chancellor Lesand.’
‘Lesand now rules in my place?’
‘He rules as first minister, he will take no higher honour,’ Faros explained. ‘He has only recently managed to wrest power from a small group of your former generals. It was the chancellor who decided on a peaceful settlement with Kabra, and agreed to withdraw our troops.’
‘So Tarn did not drive them out?’ Sarin said pensively. ‘Sit, Faros, my days of insisting on due deference are long past.’
‘I fear he would have eventually,’ Faros admitted, cautiously squatting back on the ground. ‘The Kabrans fought long and hard, and morale among our troops was running low. The chancellor decided that it was not worth the loss of even more men for the battle to continue when Prince Tarn of Kabra was so determined to succeed.’
‘He always was stubborn.’ Sarin smiled as he held out his cup. ‘More wine?’ As his cup was quickly refilled by a nervous soldier he added, ‘And what are your orders, Lieutenant?’
‘We are tracking a thief.’
Sarin looked around him. ‘All these men for one paltry thief?’
‘Far from paltry, my lord,’ Faros said very seriously. ‘The thief gained entrance to the treasury and stole most of the royal jewels – a king’s ransom, Chancellor Lesand said.’
‘My jewels,’ Sarin muttered angrily. ‘Who could do such a thing?’
‘Baroness Crissana. Her late husband was part of the staff of the treasury. She had his keys copied, entered the palace soon after his death and stole most of the jewels.’
‘Security in the royal palace must have grown slack of late,’ Sarin commented curtly. ‘Did the guards not raise the alarm? Who is this woman? If I recall correctly the baron’s wife was dead.’
‘She was his second wife. They’d not been married long.’ Faros sounded uneasy. ‘The lady’s presence was not questioned because the guards thought she had a right to be there. It was said that she used secret passages known only to the chancellor and of course you, my lord.’
‘I know of only one other,’ Sarin mused, then gave a harsh barking laugh. ‘Niska married that old lecher Baron Crissana?’
‘As I understand it the generals gave her little choice.’ Faros shrugged his shoulders.
‘So she repaid them by stealing my jewels?’ Sarin chuckled, angered yet also highly amused. ‘The greedy bitch! I would have expected no less.’ He paused and drank his wine slowly and reflectively. ‘She’s no doubt travelling to Vestfold, where she thinks she’ll be safe.’
‘We have been following her for some time. We tracked her to Ruberoc, but then the order to withdraw came,’ Faros explained.
‘So Lesand asked the king for a letter of safe passage for you and your men?’
‘Signed by King Tarn himself.’ Faros patted his doublet. ‘I keep it on me at all times.’
‘Tarn is king at last. I’m surprised Brion lasted as long as he did.’ Sarin’s emotions concerning Tarn were confused, even now, even after all this time. ‘In that case, Zene and I will accompany you. We will track down Niska, and I will take possession of my jewels,’ Sarin added, thinking that this had not turned out badly after all. He’d pay back Niska for her betrayal, and he’d regain what he thought he had lost. The jewels would give him the resources to hire men. With a large army backing him, he could easily wrest control of his kingdom from Lesand.
Rianna watched Chang move silently around the tent totally ignoring her presence. He’d been guarding her for two days now, in a small red-striped tent pitched only a short distance from Niska’s equally temporary abode. At first Rianna had been nervous and fearful of him, but Chang had been surprisingly kind and considerate of her welfare. In a strange way she now felt she could place her trust in the obsidian-eyed man with the inscrutable expression that revealed none of his true thoughts.
Since the near rape, Niska had insisted that Rianna be kept permanently confined. By day she travelled alone in the baggage wagon, tethered inside the small space by a heavy chain which fastened around her ankle and was bolted to the side of the wagon.
At night she was chained to a thick peg that had been hammered into the ground. Rianna was under no illusion, she was and always had been Niska’s prisoner, but she had no idea what fate had in store for her. She didn’t know why Leon had allowed this or made no attempt to see her. She’d even begun to wonder if he and his men were still alive. The need to escape consumed her thoughts but so far no opportunity had presented itself.
‘Have you finished eating?’ Chang enquired.
He had not bothered to change his ways because of Rianna’s presence. Every evening he removed his garments and sat for hours meditating. His only concession to Rianna’s modesty was a small loincloth draped around his lean hips.
‘I’ve finished. It was delicious as usual,’ Rianna said and handed him her empty dish.
Chang cooked for himself, as he didn’t appear to eat meat, which was the staple diet of the other men. After Chang had watched Rianna refuse most of the food Tanith brought her, he had suggested she might like to try some of his. In order to show her it wasn’t tampered with in any way he had served her food from the same bowl as his. Rianna had taken a liking to the highly spiced stew of vegetables and grains that they ate every evening.
As Chang bent to take her bowl Rianna watched the way the tattooed creatures on his body seemed to come alive when he moved. They both fascinated and repelled her. She had asked him about the scars on his face and he had told her they were his badges of manhood. On reaching a certain age the members of his race were required to take part in a ritual scarring of great religious significance, where they inflicted the wounds on themselves. Most men had a scar on either cheek, and Rianna could imagine how painful it would
be to deliberately cut oneself. It was only those courageous enough to inflict more cuts, like Chang, who were considered the bravest and most revered members of his tribe.
‘I regret this, my lady,’ Chang said as he gently took hold of Rianna’s wrists and tied them together with a silken cord. It was the first time he had done this. ‘The baroness’s orders,’ he explained.
‘Does she fear me that much?’ Rianna was forced to lie back on the thin mattress as Chang tethered her wrists to a peg hammered in the ground above her head.
‘The baroness fears nothing,’ Chang replied as he solicitously slipped a pillow under her head, then covered her with a soft blanket. ‘Sleep well. I will be outside. If you need me you have but to call.’
Rianna did not answer as Chang departed, she was wondering why Niska had ordered this extra confinement. After all, she was chained by her ankle and couldn’t leave the tent even if she’d wanted to. Her questions were answered as she heard the rustle of silk skirts and Niska walked into the tent.
Niska paused and looked down at Rianna. ‘I trust you have recovered?’
‘What concern is it of yours?’ Rianna snapped, turning her face away from Niska.
‘It concerns me greatly. I would not like to think you had been scarred or permanently damaged in any way. It detracts from your worth,’ Niska sneered.
‘Is it your intention to ransom me?’ Rianna asked, determined not to give up hope though staying steadfast in the face of adversity was far from easy.
‘Ransom?’ Niska pursed her lips and sat down by Rianna’s side, pulling off her blanket. ‘I wonder what price Tarn would be willing to pay?’ She took a small jewelled dagger from her belt and tested the sharpness of the blade with her thumb. It brought forth a bright bead of blood, which she daintily licked from her fingertip. ‘Almost all he has, I’d wager,’ she continued, holding the dagger in front of Rianna’s face.
‘I thought you said that damage detracted from my worth.’ Rianna tried not to show her fear as she stared at the small razor-sharp blade.
‘Sadly it does.’ Niska replied regretfully. ‘I would dearly love to see you screaming in pain. I could destroy your beauty in an instant,’ she purred. ‘I’d enjoy that, but I must resist the temptation.’ She used the blade to slice through Rianna’s bodice and the thin shift beneath, peeling the garment back to stare down at Rianna’s breasts. ‘The bruises are all but gone I see,’ she commented thoughtfully. ‘A few days more and they’ll barely be visible at all.’
The pain of what had occurred that terrible night would stay with Rianna long after all the visible signs had faded, but she was not about to admit that to Niska. Just as she couldn’t admit how she really felt as Niska’s cool fingers reached down to circle her breasts, trailing teasingly over the soft curves of her bosom. Ever since she had arrived in Niska’s camp Rianna had been having strange erotic dreams, constant lustful thoughts and sexual desires she couldn’t explain.
Despite her loathing of Niska, her skin welcomed the gentle caresses, her body cried out for them, aching with need. Rianna shivered as Niska’s fingers stroked and rubbed her nipples. She tried not to show how much Niska’s touch aroused her, but her body betrayed her conscious thought and her nipples hardened into firm peaks. ‘What a greedy little whore you are,’ Niska taunted, amused by Rianna’s unsuccessful attempt to stem her instinctive response.
Niska used the blade to slit Rianna’s skirt from waist to hem, pulling it open leaving Rianna naked with only the remains of her tattered garments clinging to her arms. She did not have the luxury of a brazier to warm her tent and the chill air hit Rianna’s flesh, raising goosepimples on her pale skin.
Smiling cruelly, Niska played with Rianna, running her hands over the soft swell of her belly and through red-gold curls at her pubis. A carnal shudder coursed through Rianna as Niska’s hand slid between her thighs. Suddenly there seemed no point in resistance and she relaxed and opened her legs as Niska explored the moist cleft of her sex.
Filled with guilt, Rianna suddenly realised this was what she wanted, she had been aching with unfulfilled desire ever since the mercenaries had stripped her and cruelly violated her. She’d hated every moment of the experience, yet even as she had loathed and despised those disgusting men she had longed to feel a cock penetrate her, spearing her vitals with its thrusting strength. Her cunt was an aching void that needed to be filled. It was as if something dark and sensual had taken over her body and was driving it mad with lust.
‘Why not admit that you’re a whore,’ Niska taunted, leaning closer to Rianna, the strong scent of her perfume seeping into every pore of her helpless victim. ‘See how greedily your body welcomes me.’
‘No.’ Rianna clenched her teeth together. ‘I will not,’ she managed to gasp, denying her basest needs.
‘You will soon enough.’ Niska withdrew her fingers, now wet and shiny with Rianna’s dew, and smiled slyly. ‘I know you’ve avoided the wine, so I had Tanith put a tiny drop of a special potion in the water she gave you. It’s a very sophisticated aphrodisiac. By the time you reach Vestfold you’ll be so sexually frustrated you’ll not care who or what fucks you.’
The name Vestfold penetrated Rianna’s confused thoughts. ‘Vestfold?’ she repeated.
‘Yes.’ Niska placed her soiled fingers, still wet with Rianna’s secretions, in her mouth. ‘Musky, surprisingly sweet. I’ve always wondered what you tasted like. Now I know,’ she said. ‘I am taking you to Vestfold as a gift for my half-brother, Ragnor. He’ll be delighted to have such a special prize as his slave.’
‘No!’ Rianna exclaimed in horror. ‘You cannot,’ she pleaded, as she recalled the terrible tales she’d heard about the brutality of the northern warlords.
‘This has always been my intention ever since I persuaded Leon to travel with me,’ Niska told her. ‘And don’t think he will try and stop me, he does everything I tell him to.’ She pulled the blanket back over Rianna. ‘If you refuse the water Chang will force you to drink.’ She patted Rianna’s cheek, but was forced to snatch her hand away quickly as Rianna tried to bite it. ‘Shame on you.’ She laughed. ‘Ragnor despises mawkish women, so he’ll like you Rianna, especially with your blood fired by the potion. However, I should warn you that he quickly tires of women if they resist too much, and beats them when they do not do as they are told. You’d better learn to behave if you want to survive long in Ragnor’s stronghold.’
‘Tarn will come after me,’ Rianna hissed. ‘He’ll kill you, Niska, and I’ll enjoy watching while he does it.’
‘I look forward to that.’ Niska’s eyes glittered with excitement. ‘Ragnor has many men under his command. Once he has defeated Tarn I’ll get Ragnor to give him to me as my own personal thrall. Tarn is already well skilled in the duties of a pleasure slave, is he not, Rianna?’ she said with a harsh laugh. ‘And if his lovemaking is anywhere near as satisfying as the one time I fucked him, then I’ll be content.’
Leon yawned, suddenly feeling very weary as the man sitting next to him round the campfire silently passed him another flagon of wine. This was even rougher than the last and the sourness caught the back of his throat as he gulped it down. Fighting the urge to cough, a sign of weakness, Leon passed the flagon to the next man.
The sky was clear tonight. It was almost as if the weather was in cahoots with Niska and no longer needed to hide the fact that they were travelling due north. Leon was obsessed with Niska. She was a witch who had cast a spell over his heart; he adored her and could deny her nothing. Yet he lived with a constant nagging feeling of guilt that he had betrayed the trust Prince Tarn had placed in him. Rianna shouldn’t be here – she should be safe in Ruberoc with her betrothed.
So far Niska hadn’t told him how she intended to return Rianna to Prince Tarn, but Leon planned to escort the noble lady to Nemedia tomorrow whether Niska approved or not. Perhaps he should go and tell Niska now, he thought, as he rose to his feet, not feeling even slightly inebriated from the copious amount
s of wine he’d drunk. Leon bade goodnight to his drinking companions, then walked just a shade unsteadily through the camp. He yawned again as he plodded towards Niska’s tent, looking forward to climbing into bed next to her soft warm body.
He smiled at the thought as he entered the tent, but his expression changed as he paused in amazement at the sight that confronted him. The two huge Nubian mercenaries were naked, their oiled skin gleaming in the soft lamplight. A thin sliver of pale flesh and silver-gilt hair was sandwiched between their polished ebony forms in a tableau of obscene intimacy.
Leon could hardly believe what he was seeing as the woman who professed to love only him lifted her head and smiled, unconcerned by his intrusion. ‘Why, Leon. Come join us,’ she said with a soft husky laugh, followed by a groan of pleasure that made the bile rise in his throat.
‘No,’ he spat in disgust. Yet he was weak and even as he spoke he was pulling off his clothes. Overcome with the combined effects of wine and lust, Leon staggered forwards and collapsed on the huge mattress. The smell of sex surrounded him, seeping from their sweat-soiled bodies, and enveloping him in its seductive embrace.
Leon had been fascinated by the two Nubians ever since he had first laid eyes on them. Even though they were both mute he had still learned what he could about them from their fellow soldiers. He recognised the one lying on his back beneath Niska. He was Osa, the younger and bigger of the two men. Leon wanted to fasten his hand around Osa’s neck and squeeze the life out of him for having his cock embedded in Niska. He hated the thought, yet the sight of her pale body draped across Osa’s dark flesh was highly arousing. The other man, Yeo, kneeled behind her, his superbly muscular body taut with concentration as he caressed her buttocks, running his huge thumbs slowly down her crack.
Leon’s cock hardened at the sight of these two impressive creatures pleasuring the woman he loved. Jealousy and excitement consumed him as he saw Yeo slide his index finger into Niska’s arsehole. She shuddered and gave a soft feral growl, pressing her buttocks back against his hand.
Wild Kingdom Page 15
