Claimed by the General

by Sara Fields

  His gaze was strong, sure of himself. Danger seemed to seep from his every pore. His eyes flittered to her and narrowed. She gulped in a breath of air, nerves beginning to come to the surface.

  Lord Eiotan’s grip tightened around her hand as he approached the king.

  “My king,” he said with a bow of his head.

  Moctezuma looked over at Lord Eiotan, his dark brown eyes, jet-black hair, and dark tanned skin turning in their direction. His royal clothing was simple, yet well made. A beautiful royal headdress sat atop his head, made with many different colorful feathers. The aura he presented was one of a ruler.

  “Lord Eiotan!” Moctezuma exclaimed. A smile grazed his lips, but quickly disappeared. “It is good to see you. Now that you have arrived, we can begin this charade. You must keep your eyes peeled. I want to know their weaknesses, what they want. I am depending on you for this information.”

  Lord Eiotan nodded. “I have brought my wife, as another pair of eyes to observe. My king, this is Ayala. She is beautiful, is she not?”

  Ayala was careful not to raise her eyes as she curtsied for the king.

  “You are a lucky man, Lord Eiotan. She is a beauty.”

  Ayala dared to raise her eyes. “Thank you, my king,” she said as softly she dipped her head, hoping she had done the right thing.

  The king smiled. “And obedient. Again, Lord Eiotan, you are a lucky man.” The king turned away and Ayala stole a glance at Lord Eiotan. Images of her spanking flashed through her head at the king’s comment.

  She squeezed his hand softly and he nodded in confirmation.

  “Come, it is time,” she heard the king say, a short distance away.

  The group as a whole began to move toward the other side of the causeway. Ayala found herself making eye contact more than she felt she should, but she just wanted to see what was going on. Cortés’ group of men on the other side stood waiting, almost arrogant in their stances.

  When Moctezuma and his nobles reached Cortés, the tension was palpable. Curiosity overtook her and Ayala dared to observe the foreigners, now that they were so close. Her eyes traveled over the group, seeing their light skin and dark hair, their clothing so very different from hers.

  She found Cortés at the forefront, watching her, his eyes hungrily gazing over her from head to toe. The power in his stare was so harsh, dark even, that she took a step backwards in surprise, feeling as though she should run, as prey tries to escape a predator. Lord Eiotan’s arm snaked around her waist, holding her in place. Something was wrong in his gaze, some sort of power that was very dark, evil in a sense. It pulled her in, making her lust for it. Something about it was familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

  She took a step forward toward him, and was pulled back. Ayala jumped and tore her eyes away, nervously looking back at Lord Eiotan, whom she realized had pulled her. His eyes looked down at her, a warning clear in his gaze. She stepped back into his arms and acted as though nothing had just happened. A cold fear began to rise in her gut. She didn’t know what just happened.

  Ayala stared at the ground, her emotions threatening to take over. Anger, fear, sadness rippled through her. She watched as gold was given to Cortés and he was adorned with many flowers.

  Moctezuma bowed his head to Cortés and welcomed him to the city.

  She acted as an obedient wife should and didn’t say a word. The group began to make their way into the city, guiding Cortés and his men to the palace, where they would stay. All the while, she noted that Cortés was sneaking glances at her.

  Lord Eiotan was finally instructed to return to the dinner the king had planned to welcome Cortés and his army.

  She watched as he talked with important people. She tried to remember all the names as best she could, nodding and curtseying at all the right times. Finally, Lord Eiotan and the rest of the welcoming committee left the visiting army to rest, assured that Cortés was exhausted from his journey.

  Eiotan came back to her, grasping her hand. “Let us return home until the festivities tonight.” The two of them left the crowds and walked back to Lord Eiotan’s house. The walk was quiet, leaving Ayala to her thoughts.

  When they finally reached Lord Eiotan’s estate, Ayala occupied herself with household chores, trying to keep busy in order to stem her nerves. Eiotan sat himself at the table with some scrolls and paper. She couldn’t get close enough to see what they said, so she kept her distance. It could be very dangerous for her if Eiotan knew she had learned to read. Her mother had known and taught her and had engrained in her the need for this to be kept secret. A slave who knew how to read was dangerous to their master.

  As she was dusting, she felt Eiotan’s eyes on her.

  “Ayala, come sit down with me.”

  Ayala slowly put down her dusting and made her way over to him. She nervously swallowed and lowered herself down into a chair by him. She glanced at the writing on the table, seeing the words Cortés, gold, murder, and bloody war. She quickly glanced up at him, hoping she hadn’t given herself away.

  Eiotan watched her, silent, glancing at the papers and then back to her.

  “Tell me about what happened when Cortés saw you.”

  “Sir, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Everything was a little scary and I…”

  Eiotan interrupted. “No, tell me about what exactly you felt, when you two caught each other’s eyes.”

  Ayala looked down at her hands. Nervous butterflies filled her to the core. Had she made him angry?

  “He seemed hungry, bloodthirsty even. I couldn’t tell what it was directed at though. I couldn’t tell what he wanted. It seemed like he had some sort of power. I’m not really sure how to describe it.”

  Eiotan looked at her; his face showed nothing. He cleared his throat.

  “You are not to leave my side at dinner tonight. Consider that a direct order.”

  Ayala swallowed. “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  Her eyes darted back to the papers and then back down to her hands. She wanted to know what they said about Cortés. Maybe they would tell her what Cortés wanted. She looked back at Eiotan and met his eyes, finding that he had been watching her.

  Nervously, she jumped up and hurried back to her dusting, all the while feeling his eyes on her back. But he didn’t say a word. In fact, he stood up from the table and left the room.

  Her eyes stole toward the table and the papers. She glanced down the hallway in the direction he’d disappeared. Indecision clouded her mind. Finally curiosity overtook her and she stole back to the table. She quickly was lost in the warnings about Cortés and how dangerous he was, how he was willing to murder anyone who got in his way.

  She jumped when she heard someone clear his throat, and looked up quickly to find Eiotan watching her. Shock turned into fear as she backed away from the table.

  “Sir, I was just going to dust the table, I, I…” she stammered.

  “Don’t you dare lie to me, Ayala.”

  Tears clouded her vision. Words would not come to her. She quivered as he walked toward her. She backed away from him, afraid. Why couldn’t she have quelled her curiosity?

  Her back hit the wall; she had nowhere to run.

  “Please,” she whimpered. “Please don’t.”

  Eiotan’s face softened. His hand reached out to touch her face, but she flinched away.

  “You can read, can’t you,” he stated, his voice gentle.

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered, barely able to speak, hardly believing he had gotten her to admit it. Surprise raked through her as a smile overcame his face.

  “I can’t believe my luck. And here I thought I was going to have to teach you!” He grabbed her shoulders. “You are an amazing woman!”

  Ayala was speechless. This wasn’t what she’d expected. “You’re not angry?” she finally managed.

  “No, not at all. This is good news!” He paused for a moment and his face fell a little. “I scared you, didn’t I?”

  Ayala nod
ded, tears threatening. Eiotan took her in his arms and pulled her close, holding her head to his shoulder.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to.”

  Lord Eiotan held her and she felt safe. She didn’t know where her irrational fear had come from, since he seemed to care for her and didn’t want to hurt her. He had been her salvation twice, refusing to see her executed for her wrongdoings. She finally allowed herself to relax in his arms, feeling his comforting warmth. He slowly released her, seemingly reluctant to let her go.

  “Good girl.” He smiled. “Go freshen up, and put on that pretty sage-colored dress. We need to get ready for dinner.”

  Ayala slowly left his side, not wanting to leave the feelings he’d stirred within her. She looked back as she walked to her room and he looked just as lost in thought as she felt. In her room, she quickly freshened up, splashing water on her cheeks, and changed. She brushed her hair and closed her eyes, sitting down on the bed for a moment.

  What was wrong with her? Why was she allowing herself to feel for this man? He owned her, body and soul, and could decide what to do with her life at any moment. He spanked her, for God’s sake, and she had to submit because he was her master! She had to be more careful. She had never heard of a master loving a slave, and knew it could never happen. Not in the world she lived in.

  Ayala opened her eyes and stowed her feelings away. It wasn’t possible to love him. She would be his slave, and he would continue to be her master.

  When she felt ready, she left her room. She wouldn’t allow him to get into her head, or into her heart. It was time for dinner and she would play her part of a doting wife and nothing more. Lost in her thoughts, she waited for Eiotan.

  “You look beautiful,” Eiotan exclaimed when he entered the room. Ayala allowed herself to smile. “Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, not letting herself meet his eyes.

  “Shall we go now?” she asked. He responded by taking her hand and leading her out the door. It was time to welcome Cortés at dinner. She shuddered at the thought.

  Chapter Four

  By the time they reached the palace, it was already dark. The palace was surrounded with torches, lighting the structure with dancing, fiery light. The incredible stone structure looked much more imposing under the dark of night. Other couples were wandering in, dressed in finery just like hers. She lowered her head, just wanting to get through tonight without any trouble.

  She let Eiotan take the lead. He led her through rooms covered in finery, fancy carpets covering the floors, beautiful drapery concealing the windows, elegant carved furniture in every room. Opulence was showcased in every possible corner. Ayala missed her small cozy one-room cabin. She had been with the other servants, but it was her own home, her safe place. She wished she were there now, instead of thrust into this situation.

  They finally reached the grand hall where dinner was to be held. A massive table occupied the center of the room, big enough to seat a hundred people. People were milling around, and a quiet murmur began to build throughout the room. Eiotan and Ayala were directed to sit next to the head of the table. Wine and bread was served as the crowd waited for the dinner to begin.

  Drums boomed and the crowd went silent. Everyone rose to their feet to give respect to the guests of honor. The king and Cortés walked in together, both wearing smiles. Ayala thought the king looked sincere, but Cortés looked up to no good. Her eyes narrowed as she wondered what he was planning.

  “Welcome! Welcome!” the king said to the silent crowd. “Tonight is a celebration to honor the arrival of Lord Cortés and his men. Our home is their home, and we will treat them as our neighbors and friends. Please, let us welcome Cortés and his men with a show of our bounty. Please bring in the first dish.”

  The king sat down at the end of the table, leaving a seat right next to him for Cortés. Eiotan and Ayala were seated on the other side, so they could look directly at Cortés. She busied herself by putting her napkin on her lap and taking a sip of wine. She felt as though Cortés had his eyes on her, so she actively ignored him.

  The first course was roast duck in a sweet sauce. As the plates were served, she licked her lips in excitement. She could not remember ever having attended a meal this grand and just wanted to taste everything. Eiotan placed a hand on her arm, forcing her to pause. He smiled and brought his fork to her mouth, showcasing a loving gesture between man and wife. She smiled and opened her mouth, gracefully taking his offer with a giggle.

  The taste of the food was amazing. Dish after dish was served, from wild boar, to turkey, to fish, to chicken, with side after side of corn, squash, and many other things. Ayala could hardly keep track of how many different things she tried. The men talked and she kept quiet, knowing it was not her place to jump in during conversations involving politics and money. She was lost in her thoughts, watching all the happenings in the grand hall. Musicians played instruments off to the side, female servants danced, wine was constantly being served. Laughter and smiles filled the room. Ayala thought the night had been much more fun than she’d originally thought it was going to be. Her eyes lingered over the constant entertainment.

  “Lord Eiotan, your wife is a gem, a wonderful example of the bounty of this empire,” a gruff voice said, breaking through Ayala’s thoughts. She turned in the direction of the voice, slowly realizing that it was Cortés talking. Her gaze narrowed. Cortés smiled dangerously once he caught her eye.

  “She is the love of my life,” Eiotan countered, waiting to see what Cortés would say next.

  “What would it take to get your lovely morsel of a wife into my bed tonight?” Cortés asked. Ayala felt her mouth fall open, and anger clouded her vision. Disgust filled her to the soul. She couldn’t imagine him touching her. Bile filled her throat at the thought.

  “I am not for the taking, you murderous wretch!” she said angrily. “I belong to my husband, Lord Eiotan, and no one else.” She stood up, pushing back her chair in a rush. “Excuse me, I need some air.” Ayala caught Eiotan’s eye before escaping the room, seeing anger in his vision, but she was too mad to care.

  Wandering through the hallways, Ayala found an abandoned sitting room. Taking a seat farthest from the door, not visible from the hallway, she sighed loudly. She dropped her head into her hands.

  What had she just done?

  Chapter Five

  The longer she sat in the sitting room, the worse she felt. Not only had she had spoken out of turn in front of Cortés and the king, but she had run from Eiotan after he had specifically told her not to leave his side. Now she was alone, and had no idea how to make it back to the grand hall, let alone figure out how to fix the damage she had just caused.

  Tears rolled down her face, and she curled her knees up under her chin. Misery filled her soul. There was no way Lord Eiotan would forgive her after this. He might force her back to the fields, sell her, or even worse, execute her.

  A laugh filled the room and Ayala jumped. Cortés stood at the doorway, watching her.

  “Even in tears, you are a ravishing site.” He sauntered into the room, making his way toward her. Fear of the unknown filled her. What would he do? Beat her? Kiss her? Force his body on her? She gulped her fear and tried to keep a neutral look on her face. When he reached her, his hand stroked the side of her face, and drifted down her neck to the low collar of her dress. Ayala held her breath and kept quiet.

  “If you were mine, you would be naked on my bed right now. And I would take off my belt and whip your pretty little backside for your behavior tonight.”

  “I think it’s time to take my wife home tonight. It seems the wine has gone to her head,” a voice boomed over her loudly beating heart. Lord Eiotan had found her!

  Cortés turned back toward him and smiled. “Until next time, Lord Eiotan,” he said, bowing his head. Lord Eiotan bowed to Cortés and made his way back to Ayala.

  Ayala watched Lord Eiotan from underneath her long lashes as he strode to her. Anger was still slightly etched
into his features when he took her hand.

  “It’s time to go, Ayala.”

  She swallowed hard. Angry as she knew he was, he was gentle as he guided her out of the palace. A nervous tingle passed through her.

  Before she knew it, they had returned to his home. He guided her through the door and shut it softly behind her.

  She expected him to yell, to immediately strike out at her, but he stood silently behind her. She waited, not facing him. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he spoke.

  “Go to your room, Ayala, and wait for me there.”

  Ayala didn’t look back at him as she slowly made her way back to her bedroom. She sat down on the bed and stared at her hands.

  Her mind was ablaze. What would happen? Would he use the hairbrush? His hand? His belt? Her foot started to twitch nervously.

  She heard him enter the doorway. His footsteps fell softly but surely, heading to her. He first walked over to the nightstand, then picked up the hairbrush and placed it on the bed.

  He sat down beside her.

  “Ayala, I don’t think you understand the danger you have put yourself in today.”

  She didn’t answer, but kept staring at her hands.

  “Cortés watched you. I have seen men hunger after women before. You did not heed my instructions to keep your eyes down. You boldly met his gaze, offering him a challenge. You spoke out of turn, daring to defy the king, Cortés, and most important, myself. You left my side after I specifically gave you instructions to stay with me at all times. If I hadn’t found you, things could have turned out very differently tonight, and I don’t doubt you would have been hurt very badly, both physically and emotionally. At this point, if he does not place you on a list of demands, I would be surprised. You are the one thing he can’t have, and that is an extremely dangerous position to be in.”

  He was silent for a moment.

  “I want you to understand why I am going to punish you today. By not following my instructions, you have put yourself in a dangerous position, one that we are going to have to work together to get out of. I can tell you are strong-willed and independent. You are going to need a strong hand to learn to heed my every instruction.” He paused. “Look at me, Ayala.”