“Again, I ask, why should we trust you? We don’t know you.” The brunette continued to try to pick the lock. “You could be a plant sent here to make us behave with horror stories of what’s beyond the tree line.”
“I don’t care if you trust me, but I know what I’m talking about. This isn’t my first time in a cage.” Paige tilted her head back and sighed. “They’ll be coming to get us soon.”
“What’s your name, locksmith?” Jayne asked the brunette.
“Karre.”
“Well, Karre,” Jayne said. “I don’t think we have much of a choice. If we all work together, maybe we stand a chance. Now, I don’t know how we all got here and at this point I don’t think it matters, but I do know I’m not staying to spend the rest of my life as some guy’s sex toy.”
“I agree.” Lilith stood. “We need a plan.”
“Fine,” Karre grumbled.
Paige opened her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t look to me to join your little band. You’re only fooling yourselves. I’ve been to the Hanging Forest. I made it all the way to the Starian borders and I’ve seen the creatures that wait beyond.”
“What about a dimension jump?” Lilith inquired. “Does anyone know if this place has inter-dimensional travel technology?”
“A what?” Paige asked.
“Staria? It’s too primitive. They don’t have the technology here,” Karre said. “I got a glimpse of the castle when they brought me to this cell. Through a door I saw servants cart water from a well in buckets and the drive wasn’t paved. No artificial lights or motorized vehicles. Though there were several large horses.”
“I’ve never been here,” Jayne put forth, “but I’m inclined to agree from what I’ve seen. These prisons don’t use lasers or shocks.”
“Someone’s coming.” Karre pulled her arms out from between the bars. She thrust her lock picking tool back into her upswept hair.
A new guard arrived, dressed similarly to the other men she’d seen. His nose had a crook across the bridge. “Only three new ones?”
“It’s all they sent us,” said the man who’d ordered the other two women away.
“How’s it going, Edward?” Paige taunted, her face hardening to hide all emotion. Jayne watched in surprise, liking this version of Paige much better than the sulky one. “I see the nose is healing nicely.”
“Lady Paige,” Edward growled, glaring at her as if he wanted to pull the sword from his waist and run her through.
“Open the door, Eddie,” Paige pouted her lower lip. “Let me break it again.”
Edward grumbled, but didn’t answer.
“I thought there were five new,” Edward’s fellow barbarian said, completely ignoring Paige.
“What’s wrong, Brock? Don’t I count anymore in your little ledger?” Paige asked.
“You are not new,” Brock frowned. “Your lord is waiting for you and I do hope his punishment is harsh.”
Paige’s smirk wavered. Brock grinned.
“You already have one of these guys?” Karre whispered, grabbing Paige’s arm.
“Two were not suitable. They were taken away,” Edward answered Brock. His nostrils flared in distaste. “Too weak.”
“Three will have to do,” Brock said to Edward. As the two men walked off, he added, “I’ll tell my Sera to make ready.”
“Ladies,” Paige whispered. “Welcome to Battlewar Castle.”
* * * * *
Lord Ronen eyed his older brother as Lord Sorin lifted his arm toward the guard atop the castle wall, showing the bright red crest on his arm as he silently ordered the knight to lift the outer castle gate. The balding knight motioned down in understanding, disappearing over the side.
Like his brother, Ronen wore the red crest on his sleeve. The family symbol marked their respected ranks as leaders to two of the best armies in all of Staria. Very few would dare to challenge their word or honor.
Behind them, a small contingent of warriors rode in single file, followed by young valets and pages on foot. The boys led pack horses carrying the brothers’ armor. It was a rare occasion that the warriors went without it.
Ronen rolled his shoulders. His simple, linen undertunic had been made from the naturally dark brown fibers of local plants. It fell loose and long over his tightly fitted black breeches with a long slit up the sides to ease the movements of the upper thighs. The warm day made an overtunic and cloak unnecessary. A woven belt wrapped loosely around his waist, holding a sheathed knife. Opposite the short blade, his sword hung from a shoulder scabbard that crossed his chest.
The steady clop of horses’ hooves slowed while the oversized gate creaked its way up. The wooden crossbars were reinforced with iron, formed into giant spikes at the bottom. If the rope to the gate were cut as a man rode under, it would impale him and his horse under the deadly weight.
Everything about Battlewar Castle had been designed for war, just like all else in their land—from the long battlements that stretched around the main castle and Battlewar Town to the secret passages and underground escape routes. This was the world Ronen had been born into. It was a world he knew well.
Yet, somehow, he always found it odd that on these occasions they rode not into the familiarity of battle, but to the only soft thing in a warrior’s life. A woman.
Always before these ceremonies, something happened to his insides. As desperately as he wanted a woman to fill his bed and give him children, he was terrified that he’d actually find one. After what happened to Lord Sorin, Ronen wasn’t in a hurry to find a mate.
“Relieve yourself beforehand. That was my mistake,” Sorin said under his breath. It was the same advice he gave his younger brother each time they rode to the castle for a breeding ceremony. Since the loss of his first wife, Sorin’s heart had been surrounded with bitterness. Well, loss was putting it lightly. The harlot Bianka tried to seduce the whole of Firewall Castle before setting into motion the events that burnt their ancestral home to the ground. When no one at Firewall would sate her, she ran away and threw herself at the enemy.
“There is no need to worry about me, Brother. I have better things to think of than binding myself to a woman,” Ronen answered. A flurry of movement surrounded them as they rode into town. Women went about their work, busily preparing for the festival, ignoring the well-known sight of the warriors riding in. “At least coming here we’ll get to feast on something other than dried meat and stale mead.”
Intermingled with the peasants’ homes in the outer bailey were a couple of barns, many workshops, small breweries and a large marketplace where the commoners sold their wares. Beyond the market, in the center of the city, a second, shorter wall encircled the inner bailey yard and castle. Contained within were the exercise yard where the knights trained, a small chapel, and the stables.
“Yea, there is that,” Sorin agreed. Neither brother hurried to ride through town, instead occupying themselves with watching a group of children play. Five boys showed off for the attentions of a pretty girl. As one of the few female children, she’d be used to the notice. Even at a young age, the child would know how to manipulate the opposite sex to her whims. All females did.
Finally making it to the inner gate, Ronen sighed. A few of the soldiers glanced up, lifting their hands in greeting. The brothers nodded in unison, not needing to say another word as they solemnly made their way up the incline to the castle. It would all be over soon and they’d be riding off to the battlefront at dawn.
Chapter Two
Jayne glared at the guard’s back, hating him with every fiber of her being. All four women prisoners stood in the corridor outside the cell, but down the hall from the guards. Jayne found it odd that they didn’t escort them properly, one in front and one in back, but it wasn’t like they could run anywhere.
Jerking hard at her bound wrists, she ignored the burn of the rope against her skin. The longer she struggled, the tighter the binds became. She’d already put up a fight when they first tried to restrain h
er. Lilith and Karre made a proper show of struggling as they were tied, but Paige merely lifted her arms and let them work.
“The way I see it,” Lilith said, “we don’t have any choice but to join forces and pool our knowledge. I think we should gather intelligence. None of us seem to be from this world, so that means they had to get us all here somehow. If we keep our ears open, we’ll find out how. There might be a way out of here yet.”
“I’ve already looked for fairy rings when I was in the forest,” Paige said. “I didn’t even find evidence of fairies. Though, I’m not surprised. Fairies don’t like wars and this place is nothing but one giant battlefield. I think my journey here was a one-way trip.”
“Fairy rings?” Karre snorted with soft laughter.
“What?” Paige asked, looking around at the others. “Isn’t that how you all got here?”
Jayne frowned. Fairies? Those things actually existed? She remembered vague tales of them from childhood. They were said to be horrible little creatures who, unlike Paige described, liked war, had supernatural powers and were to be avoided at all costs. If those mortal hellions were their only hope for escape, they were all in trouble.
“No more talking. They’re ready for you,” the guard announced, motioning his fist forward. “Let’s go. March.”
* * * * *
“Bring in the firsts so they may make their choice.” As the guard, Brock, made the announcement, Ronen looked up from where he’d been staring at the tips of his boots. A crescendo of laughter and cheering washed into the passageway from those gathered in the great hall to watch the ceremony. Being one of the six “firsts” it was Ronen’s privilege to have first choice of the women awaiting them. He didn’t plan on taking the honor.
“Any word from the front?” Ronen asked Sorin, who stood behind him in line. He fell into step behind a limping Sir Aidan, as they made their way forward. Behind Sorin, Sir Rian, Sir Vidar and Lord Serik awaited their chance to find a mate. Each man wore a different-colored long tunic, reaching to the knees, over tight brown breeches. Woven belts wound their waists, the end straps hanging along the right thighs. “The scouts should have reported back by now.”
“No, they must be delayed.” Sorin kept his voice quiet.
“I have a man on the gate watching,” Lord Serik put forth. “He’s to notify me at once.”
“I head for the battlefront near Spearhead as soon as this is finished,” Sir Vidar said. “If any of you have messages…”
His words tapered off as they walked into the main hall. A high table had been set with metal goblets and pitchers of mead and ale. Like the rest of the castle, the hall had been designed over centuries of careful planning and fine tuning. The large fireplace along a far wall radiated enough heat to warm the hall. The immensely thick stone insulated loud noises from the outside. Woven tapestries lined the walls in strips of material, showcasing coats-of-arms and important religious and political symbols.
Ronen first saw the other warriors, as they watched from the rows of tables spread out over the hall’s floor. Some wore lightweight tunics, others leather jerkins like the guards, others light chainmail and pieces of armor, and still others wore no shirt at all. The effects of battle could be seen proudly displayed on their flesh—gruesome scars and tattoos of honor. Mixed in with the men were their women. Tight corset tops and flowing skirts had been designed to tease the Starian male’s overactive senses.
When the Divinity otherworlders first approached them in the midst of battle, the Starians had almost slain the foreigners where they stood. They believed the oddly dressed creatures to be allies to the Caniba tribes. After much negotiation, investigation, a little bit of pleading by the Divinity scouts, and hours of council meetings, an alliance was formed with the otherworld beings. Divinity wished for samples of the blue mineral water, water that stayed warm no matter how long it sat away from another heat source. The blue water springs ran deep and wide and there was no shortage of the mineral. Giving some away was a little enough consideration. In return, the Divinity leaders provided a resource much needed by the Starians—women.
As the firsts walked in, all gazes were focused in a single direction, toward the four women who’d been brought to Battlewar Castle’s main hall. Out of the women Divinity sent, three were chosen as being of the right temperaments to stay. The new blood was just one of the reasons all the firsts were of high military rank or distinction.
Despite the fact that he’d relieved himself twice before coming down to banquet, Ronen found his body stirring with the thought of softer company. Denial wasn’t easy for men as hot blooded as they were and the mortality of war tended to make every second count.
His eyes turned to the women in curiosity. He hid a smile. The firelight shone through the white of their gowns, outlining their bodies in perfect temptation. He glanced over all of them, not really seeing their faces. His cock stirred, begging him to reconsider his decision. What was he fighting? A soft vessel in his bed? Someone to please his every decadent whim? A woman to service his member in any way he chose—sucking him, finishing him, offering every inch of herself to him? Ah, but to wake up in the morning and be able to go to the adjoining bedroom to have his morning arousal sucked out with soft, wet lips. To have a woman bathe him, using her hands to cleanse every inch of his body. Oh, the nights! To be able to bend her over and pound away in a tight, wet sheath. Ronen nearly came just thinking about it.
No. He had to stop thinking about sex. Ronen knew he had to stick with his decision. Like Sorin, he could stay strong. The men of Firewall would not take brides. Never.
“Mine.”
What?
Ronen glanced around in surprise. The voice sounded like his brother’s, booming over the hall. Surely, no. It couldn’t be…
“Sorin?” Ronen whispered, glancing at the place next to him behind the table. His brother had stopped walking before reaching his seat.
“Mine,” Sorin repeated.
Ronen couldn’t believe his ears. He followed Sorin’s line of vision to the women. His brother ignored those in the stunned hall as he made his way to a pretty blonde with wide, frightened eyes. At least the woman wasn’t a fool. With Sorin looming over her, she should be scared.
“Brother?” Ronen questioned, knowing the shock had to be evident in his voice. How could it be? That very day Sorin instructed him to stay strong and not fall for a woman’s enchanting ways.
The skin at the back of his neck prickled. Someone watched him. Ronen glanced away from his brother only to find sinfully dark eyes studying him. His breath caught. Before when he’d looked at the women, he’d stared lustfully at their bodies. How could he have missed those bewitching eyes? That lush mouth parted in steady breath?
“You are mine.” Sorin grabbed the blonde woman’s ropes and held them tight, laying unmistakable claim.
Ronen barely noted the sounds of shock as murmurs ran over the crowd. His heart beat loud in his ears. Every nerve in his body shot with awareness. He’d seen women, but never had one struck him with such potent sexual awareness. Never had one made him want to throw her down, draw his tunic aside and begin wildly thrusting into her at the high table, not caring who watched.
What bewitching spell was this? He must fight it.
The herald made a weak noise, finally breaking the hushed tones of the crowd as he announced, “Rejoice, Lord Sorin has chosen!”
The statement came out more like a question than an announcement. Cheering erupted and still Ronen barely noted anything but the dark woman’s steadfast gaze. She was tall and slender with flawless bronzed skin. Though she didn’t move, he guessed she’d be graceful by the way she held her shoulders back and her neck long. She blinked, glancing to Sorin and the blonde before her gaze swept back to him.
Ronen smiled, hoping she’d return his lustful look. She didn’t, but she didn’t frown either. Commotion erupted and the woman turned her back to him to watch a fight in the crowd. It was as he suspected. She moved with po
ise and grace. This woman knew her body and how to use it.
“Come with me,” Sorin ordered loudly, tugging his new wife behind him as he led the way from the main hall. He didn’t even stay to feast with the others.
“Brother,” Ronen insisted one last time, still not believing his own eyes. The mighty Lord Sorin, his respected brother, had fallen. Again.
Women will be the death of us, Brother. You said so yourself.
“It is done, Ronen,” Sorin answered before disappearing completely. “Tell Sera to send food to my chambers.”
* * * * *
Ronen, hmm…
Jayne glanced between the two brothers, feeling sorry for poor Lilith. Lord Sorin was a giant amongst men, at least physically, and his ill humor left much to be desired. By the look on his face, it was quite possible Lilith was in for a beating. Feeling something akin to her days in the orphanage, a kind of helpless longing to join arms with her sisters and fight oppression, she took a deep breath. There was nothing she could do for Lilith. Childhood taught her that harsh lesson. The woman would have to survive whatever was coming to her and get past it. Jayne had her own problems.
She turned her attention forward. Sorin’s brother seemed much more malleable. Plus, he already seemed to take an interest in her. The knight had stopped just short of drooling all over the hall floor as he looked at her chest.
Ronen. Easy target. Not at all hard like his brother.
Jayne had watched the firsts as they walked into the hall. The first one seemed too bitter and more interested in pointedly ignoring them. Sorin chose Lilith. Guess the man had a thing for blondes. Ronen’s interest was obvious. By the way he eyed all the women’s forms, he was just horny and looking for a place to find release. The fact annoyed her a little, but she assured herself she had no reason to care. Men got horny. It was the way of things. Besides, he meant nothing to her. Then there were the last three knights—two of whom seemed more interested in each other than the women and one who appeared disinterested in everything.
Fighting Lady Jayne Page 2
