“You cannot change your mind,” he growled, stalking her as she darted out of his way. “Law forbids it.”
“I don’t recognize your laws,” she answered, just as loudly. Subtlety was not her strong suit and there was no point in searching for the trait now. With a forced laugh, she said, “I really don’t recognize any dimension’s laws.”
“Tradition forbids it!”
“Curse your traditions. I don’t recognize them either.”
“I forbid it!” Ronen declared, his arms rising to the sides.
Jayne reacted on pure instinct, doing the only thing she knew to do. She drew back her hand and swung, saying more with her fist than she could with flustered words. How dare he treat her like property? Like some prisoner he could command? She was not some child to be locked away in an orphanage, kept like a dog to be beaten into obedience at the whim of her keepers.
Jayne had refused to think that there might be no escape until that moment, when his eyes flashed and his voice lifted. She didn’t like being helpless. Plan one seduction-manipulation had been a complete failure.
Then it is time for a new plan. I’ll go with what I know best.
Shock filtered over his expression for a millisecond before contact. Ronen didn’t try to stop her as fist met flesh. His head snapped back, but he didn’t stumble. Jayne leapt onto the bed, expecting him to make a fight of it. Once she subdued him, if she subdued him, she’d make a run for it. Giant prairies and Paige’s monster-filled forest wouldn’t stop her from trying to escape. Even if she had to live in the dirt for the rest of her days, she’d do it on her own terms. Free.
As she reached for a knife on his wall, his soft words stopped her. “You signed your deal. You cannot escape it and neither can I. We are together in this.”
Wondering at the way he phrased his words, she turned. Already his eyes swelled with the red of her hit. Why wasn’t he fighting back? She knew the punch had to hurt. The bioengineered, metal “boxing gloves” Divinity had grafted beneath her skin would see to that. He should have been raging in anger at her attack. Jayne’s hand again automatically started to reach for the wall of weapons, but halted midair, unsure how to proceed. Why wasn’t he fighting?
“Perhaps you should stay here in the room while your temper cools.” Ronen grabbed her white gown from the floor and left, gripping it tight in his palm. As the door shut with a decisive thud, she stared after him in confusion.
“I’ve really underestimated you, Lord Ronen.” Jayne bit her lip thoughtfully. Instead of grabbing a weapon, she went to look inside the room he said was for her. The furnishings were nice, if a person was into the domestic scene. Dark wood, simply carved, made up the furniture. The bed looked to be the same size as Ronen’s, with white fur on the coverlet instead of gray. Jayne would never sleep in such a fluffy concoction. A dressing table arranged with little colorful bottles stretched along one wall next to a circular inlet with tiny slit windows and an oversized chair. The only way in or out was through Ronen’s chamber.
Having no desire to go inside and explore, she shut the door. Air stirred around her naked body. If he thought stealing her clothes was going to keep her locked in her tower, than he’d sorely misjudged her. Striding to the trunk at the end of his bed, she flipped it open and began to dig.
How dare he walk out on me!
Chapter Three
“These foreign women have bewitching powers. We should never have entered into an agreement with the otherworlders.”
Ronen listened to his brother’s bitter tone and nodded in agreement. Sorin fared little better in his choice of mate, already regretting his hasty actions as he glared at those gathered in the hall. Tension rolled from the lord’s shoulders and Ronen knew better than to ask for details. When Sorin was angry, it was best to leave him be. One irritating move and he’d rip a man’s head from his body. But, for all that rage, he would never lay a rough hand on his new bride. Even with Bianka, he’d never struck her and that woman deserved it.
Ronen related to the feeling and practically growled at the shadowy reflection in his pale yellow drink. His desire had been sated, somewhat, and replaced by fury. She tried to get out of their arrangement. How dare Jayne choose him, kiss him like that in front of everyone at the breeding ceremony and then try to leave him! This was his life, not a game. His stomach tightened into big knots. Only one thing had changed from her decision to take him as a mate. They’d had sex. By the teeth of the damned, it had been awhile. Had he truly been such a bad, clumsy lover? The idea that he’d failed kept him from repeating the act a second time, no matter how enthusiastically his cock wished for him to run back up the Mace Tower stairs. He needed to calm the lust running rampant in his blood so he could concentrate and do it right.
“Witches,” Ronen muttered, waving to a maid to refill his goblet. As the woman dared to make her way to the ill-tempered brothers, Sorin motioned Sir Rian to join them at the table. By the un-tortured look of his expression, Ronen assumed the man hadn’t chosen a woman.
Lucky knight. Would that we had been so smart.
“Any word from Lord Serik’s man? Do the Caniba armies march against the forces at Spearhead?” Sorin asked.
“They do not march yet, but Lord Martin suspects it will be soon.” Rian took a seat next to Sorin, his steady brown gaze meeting both men briefly. “Sorceress Magda’s scouts were captured in the southern marshes, but at the loss of two good men—Richard of Daggerpoint and Peeter of Fallenrock. They died well and were not taken by those cannibals. Sir Vidar goes to lead the interrogations. He has already left with his new bride.”
“Vidar, too?” Ronen let loose a long breath. It would seem all three of the foreign women had been claimed, not that it surprised him. Women were scarce and men were lonely. The fourth, Lady Paige, had been an arguably spiteful gift from the fairies and would go home with her husband, Sir Aidan, to be punished as he saw fit. Perhaps the foreign women were defective and should be sent back to their worlds. Surely Divinity only gave away those they needed to be rid of. The Starians should have known the deal was too sweet an offer. Blue mineral water for willing wives? More like water for witches.
“Yea, Vidar, as well.” Rian agreed. “Though he looked about as pleased as the two of…” The words tapered off and Rian gave the brothers a sheepish look.
“And Aidan?” Sorin asked.
“He did not look well when he left Battlewar.” Rian sighed, leaning forward to grab an abandoned goblet at the head table and lift it to a maid. She nodded, running to fetch him a clean one. “Nor did Lady Paige.”
“This is a bad year for finding mates,” Ronen put forth grimly. “Perhaps we should cancel the ceremonies, especially those involving the otherworlders.”
“The decisions are made,” Sorin broke in, giving Ronen a look of warning. He would not like any hint of dishonorable thoughts, especially not in front of witnesses. As the oldest brother, he took their familial duty very seriously. “There is no reason to contemplate them.”
Rian nodded once in agreement. “Though, it does not mean we have to choose the women they send.”
“What other news?” Ronen inquired.
“Not much else. Lines hold strong on both sides. Vidar hopes to discover where the Sorceress’s encampment lies. We suspect she is in the Hanging Forest, but we can’t find any who will speak of her. All they say is she lives in the ground like a serpent, rising up from the earth to feed. It’s impossible to tell her numbers and Sir Fredrick is still not the same since being held her prisoner. We must leave him in a room lined with mattresses to keep him from bashing his own skull against the stone walls of his chambers. He must eat without trencher or knife and a guard watches him at all times.” Rian didn’t reveal anything they didn’t already know, more or less, and the news of Fredrick saddened Ronen’s heart.
One of the self-proclaimed queens of the Caniba tribes, Sorceress Magda was as elusive as she was cruel. It was whispered that she studied the black arts and h
er followers, before being allowed to bear the mark of her soldiers, were made to dance with the serpent. Whoever endured the serpent’s poison and lived was allowed to serve and they did so with blind obedience and obsession. Over the last four years, she’d been one of the more aggressive Caniba factions attacking the borders.
“We should ride to the borderlands,” Ronen said, lightly touching his bruised eye. He’d had worse injuries in battle, but somehow this one stung more. “We will be of more use there.”
“We have not been summoned,” Sorin lowered his voice to a whisper, “and, unless the king orders otherwise, we will be forced to bring the women with us.”
“Not if they become with child,” Ronen reasoned, suddenly sorry he’d spoken the idea out loud. He wanted children, many of them, but he was certain the woman abovestairs wouldn’t be so inclined.
Sorin tensed, a severe frown crossing his features. “We would do better to pray for war, Brother.”
“Witches,” Ronen grumbled, falling into the comfort of his foul mood. “The gods have cursed us with witches.”
* * * * *
“Yea, these be a poor lot of women,” a brunette maid grouched as she lifted her arms over her head to hang a fresh tapestry in the long corridor. Jayne stayed crouched beside a door inset into the stone, shaded from their view. A large metal urn on the floor reflected the blurry figures just enough that Jayne could watch what they were doing.
“What do you expect, Nan? I told you foreigners wouldn’t suit our men as well as we.” A second servant laughed with pride. Her thick red hair was piled high on her head. “Only Starian women know how to properly please Starian men.”
“It’s too bad Lord Sorin and Lord Ronen didn’t take their two south like the others,” Nan said. “I wonder if Ronen’s wench is anything like Lady Lilith.”
“That one thinks she’s the Princess of the Black Tower, or my name isn’t Hannah. Barely said a word to us while we were up there. Princess Lilith, that one. Well, I will show her princess.” Hannah lifted her foot and pretended to kick.
“Barely did a thing to poor Lord Sorin,” Nan giggled. “Did you see the poor knight walking funny like his serpent was still full of venom? How hard is it to lie back and let a man have his way? I daresay I looked forward to an ease in that nobleman’s temper. Now she’s gone and made him worse. He practically strangled Sera in the stairwell. She was lucky those stairs are so close to the kitchen so we would have been able to hear her screams.”
Hannah gave a dark laugh, stepping back to eye the tapestry on the wall. She nodded once in approval of it. “Don’t you worry about that. I took her clothes out with the old bedding. One look at her naked body, even one as skinny as hers, and Lord Sorin will take what he needs from her, willing or no. That will cool his beast.”
“Should we check on Ronen’s wench?” Nan asked, as the women walked away.
“He’s drinking with his brother and did not order us up to his tower. Let his wench fend for herself. If his dark mood is any sign, she knows nothing of spreading her legs either.” Hannah laughed, prompting Nan to join her. They lifted up the rolled tapestry they’d just replaced and carted it off down the hall under their arms. “In some ways it serves the lords right for choosing otherworlders from the Divinity deal. It’s not what the gods intended for our people. Had they been patient and waited for a blessing, they’d have been given a woman who knows how to move her hips.”
Like you’re some prize to have in bed, miserable cat. Jayne frowned after the women, as she pushed to her feet. I know how to please a man. Lord Ronen wasn’t complaining when I got done with him.
Thinking of how desperate Ronen had been only made her eager to turn around and return to his bed. The fear of being trapped stopped her. She could not stay here and be some man’s love slave—even if the mere thought of him caused her legs to tremble. The fact that she wanted him made her fear him all the more. Thankfully, in such a world as this, the man would never come to care for her. He probably wouldn’t even bother searching for her should she run. Or, if he did, he’d soon give up.
Since Ronen confiscated her gown, she simply took one of his tunics—a long black affair with a red patch on the chest. The sleeves were too long so she cut them off to uncover her hands. Then she used one of the strips to tie her hair back away from her face and the other to sheathe the blade she had tied to her upper thigh with a piece of belt. The decorative jewel hilt of the knife would make for good barter should she have a need to trade it. The short boots she’d stolen from a laundry room pinched her toes, but were better suited to running through a prairie than bare feet.
She resisted the urge to follow after the servants to give them a piece of her mind. Then again, she could always thank them for their gossiping help. With Karre and Paige out of the castle, it would mean she only had to find Lilith. Sure, she didn’t really owe the woman anything and, by all reasoning, she could have left Lilith to fend for herself, but Jayne wasn’t like that. When a child slipped through the orphanage’s bars, they helped all they could through behind them. Besides, she didn’t want to go it alone. Regardless of her strength and bravery, this was still a strange land and a strange people. Jayne could use all the friends she could get. Nothing made faster friends than two people fighting for the same cause—freedom.
Already she’d made slow progress through the castle. It would seem most of the occupants were in the main hall drinking in celebration, so she stuck to the narrow passageways and mazelike tunnels that wound around the central room. The blue-gray stone walls and minimal decorations made it hard to navigate—especially if the maids continued to change the tapestries.
Jayne had run into more than a few amorous couples in the act of “taking the venom out of the serpent”. One pair, a knight and his busty mistress, went at it on a stairway leading down to utter darkness. Their clothes were simply pushed aside while they fucked hard and desperate, grunting like wild beasts. Another man found pleasure by his mistress’s lips as she busied herself beneath the front flap of his long tunic. He kept his eyes closed, moaning softly as the shape of her head bobbed up and down beneath the green material.
By far the most salacious was the servant who took two men at once, sandwiched between them as one pressed his back into the wall. Jayne saw them through a cracked door, perfectly positioned as if they invited others to watch what they did. When she crawled past, she noticed that was exactly what was happening. A third man sat on a chair, stroking himself as he enjoyed the sexual exploits of the performers.
Jayne had been to wild parties before, but never on such a grand scale as this. There were more couples locked in various ways and not a one noticed her as she passed. Maybe this castle was a brothel of some sort and these soldiers were here on leave from their home dimension. Is that what happened? They paid the castle Madame to claim a woman in some strange custom in the front hall, took their fill of them and then left the woman for the next man? Did they know who she was? Was getting a chance to fuck the famous Jayne “The Sweet” Hart some sort of high-dollar draw? Rich men had offered her a lot of money in the past—not that she’d ever taken it. She’d seen women on the street who fell into such a life for the sake of survival. Jayne was surviving on her own. She didn’t need to be a man’s paid whore. But, with losing so much money in the last fight for Divinity, had they come up with a way for her to pay them back? She wondered how much Ronen paid for her. Was that why he hesitated when she lay claim? The whore wasn’t supposed to pick her patron? Or had he been calculating the worth of her cost? Is that why he got mad? He’d paid for her and she was trying to renege on a deal she hadn’t realized she’d made?
I’m going to throw up.
“All the more reason to find Lilith and get out of here,” she said under her breath. Never having played the part of the prude, Jayne didn’t relish the idea of being any man’s permanent or temporary plaything. If luck were on her side, she’d find that kitchen and the Black Tower steps soon.
She hurried down several corridors, doing her best to navigate through the halls unseen. Slowing as she neared a sharp corner, she listened first and peeked second. The faint sound of padded footsteps caught her attention before being drowned out by a boisterous laughter from the main hall. She’d traveled along the back wall of the main hall, ending up on the opposite end of the castle. Jayne tensed, inching back, her legs ready to make a run for it should a boisterous knight happen upon her.
A woman appeared, dressed in a black tunic similar to the one Jayne now wore, only the sleeves were rolled instead of cut and the lady had wrapped a belt around her midsection. Seeing the long, straight blonde hair, Jayne nearly laughed with relief. Lilith. It would seem luck did favor her. She suppressed the urge to make a sound and bit her lip.
Lilith appeared to be alone, as she glanced first at the noisy hall and the back the other direction. With no way to call out to her for fear of drawing attention, Jayne crept up behind her and slid her hand over the woman’s mouth.
“Hey,” Jayne whispered in her ear, pulling her back past the stairwell she’d emerged from into a hidden inlet.
Lilith tensed, jerking in alarm at the sudden attack. She began to claw at the hand over her mouth, but Jayne turned her around so they faced each other. Lilith instantly relaxed, though her eyes remained wary.
Pressing close in the tight space of the narrow alcove, Jayne glanced down meaningfully and gave a light laugh. “Looks like we shop at the same store.”
Lilith followed Jayne’s gaze downward, but didn’t answer.
“I overheard the maids talking. I was about to come up to the tower to get you.” She looked at Lilith’s bare feet. “Couldn’t find any shoes to steal? Follow me, there’s a laundry room this way. They have shoes.”
Fighting Lady Jayne Page 4
