For a moment, joy overwhelmed all other emotions. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, and his heart almost exploded with love.
‘Tarn?’ The colour drained from her perfect face. He feared she might faint but he dared not touch her, it would be just too much to bear. ‘I never . . .’ she faltered as she saw the gold collar around his neck, and his slave’s clothing.
‘No!’ he grated in anguish, stepping back as she moved to touch him. ‘Lady Rianna, you’re looking pale, perhaps you should sit for a moment,’ he said, trying to hide the painful depth of his feelings.
‘What are you doing here, Tarn?’ She stared at him with hurt confusion.
‘My punishment was slavery,’ Tarn replied, fighting the need to pull her into his arms. ‘I serve Lord Sarin.’
‘Why? How? I don’t understand,’ she stuttered.
‘Rianna.’ Sarin strode into the room, just having returned from hunting. He halted and looked from one to the other, staring mercilessly at Tarn before turning to smile pleasantly at Rianna. ‘My dear, you are early.’
‘You didn’t tell me,’ she accused Sarin, casting a lovingly compassionate glance at Tarn.
‘I presume you refer to my new slave,’ Sarin said icily, turning his penetrating gaze on Tarn. Tarn’s blood ran cold, fearing that Sarin might suspect their involvement, as he silently willed Rianna to hide her true feelings. ‘Well, Tarn?’
‘Master,’ Tarn mumbled, sinking reluctantly to his knees.
Now that Tarn’s mortification was complete, Sarin turned back to Rianna. ‘My dear, you begged me to spare Tarn, so I did.’ He smiled and took hold of her hand. ‘I always had a deep fondness for him, so I’ve made him my personal pleasure slave.’
‘Pleasure slave?’ Rianna repeated in disbelief. It was obvious from her expression that she knew exactly what Sarin meant. With a superb strength of purpose she pulled herself swiftly together. ‘Of course, I thank you, husband. It is far better than being executed or sent to the mines.’
‘Indeed so, Rianna.’ Sarin looked down at Tarn still on his knees, now staring mutely at the ground. ‘Wait here, Tarn, until I return. Now, my dear, let us go into the other room; there are some matters we need to discuss,’ he said, leading Rianna from his bedchamber.
Filled with frustration, Rianna sought the privacy of her chambers. Ever since she had discovered Tarn’s terrible plight she had been seeking an opportunity to speak to him. She could not understand how Sarin had so easily broken her handsome warrior’s spirit. The Tarn she knew would never have willingly accepted the life of a pleasure slave. The sight of Tarn sinking to his knees and acknowledging Sarin as his master haunted her dreams at night.
It had not been easy to find the opportunity to speak to Tarn without the chance of being overheard. So far she had managed to do so only twice. Overcome by emotion, she begged Tarn to tell her why he had so easily capitulated to Sarin. Tarn declined to tell her, treating Rianna with polite reverence, behaving just as a slave should towards his master’s wife. Yet Rianna saw the tortured anguish in his blue eyes and she knew he was hiding the truth.
After her beating, then her discovery of Tarn’s fate, Rianna’s opinion of Sarin had drastically changed. He had no kindness in his heart; he was cruel, selfish and merciless. She had allowed herself to be deceived by his lies and seduced by his licentious excesses. Never again would she trust her husband, never again would she go willingly to his bed.
The morning after her beating, Rianna received a message from Sarin. It had been decided that she would be allowed a little more freedom. Adequately escorted, she could visit the city, or ride her mare, Freya, in the surrounding countryside. She welcomed the extension of her boundaries, but she knew they were a bribe. An attempt by Sarin to atone for her humiliation in front of Niska.
Sarin had not sent for her since and she was relieved, yet her body ached with longing and she was haunted by visions of Tarn and Sarin together. She knew what Sarin expected of his male pleasure slaves. She could hardly bear to imagine Tarn being forced to pleasure Sarin. Visions filled her head of her beautiful, blond warrior and her swarthy, sensual husband naked together, enmeshed in a dark world of sensual delight.
‘What’s wrong?’ Jenna asked as Rianna entered her chamber. ‘You appear distressed.’
‘Tarn still will not speak to me,’ Rianna replied, sighing in frustration.
‘Take care. It’s not wise for you to be seen together,’ Jenna warned, leading her mistress into her bedchamber. ‘Mircon has found out what you need to know.’
‘Tell me,’ Rianna said agitatedly.
‘There’s much I have to tell you.’ Jenna appeared tense and uneasy as she glanced around the bedchamber. ‘I’ve dismissed the slaves. Told them you wish to rest for a while, undisturbed.’
‘Why so secretive, Jenna?’ Rianna asked.
Jenna was her one true friend here. Yasmin knew about Rianna’s lost virginity, but she thought it had happened before she left the Castle of Nort. She had no knowledge of Rianna’s involvement with Tarn.
‘It’s complicated.’ Jenna sat on the bed beside Rianna and wrung her hands. ‘Very complicated. Mircon and I are to be married.’
Rianna smiled with delight. ‘But that is good news. You should be happy. Do not be troubled about money, Sarin is generous with me. I’ll give you two hundred gold pistoles as a wedding gift. You’ll be able to purchase a fine house and have your own maidservant as well.’
‘Your generosity is much appreciated.’ Jenna looked with affection at her mistress. ‘I know you will not be so happy when I tell you that Mircon and I wish to settle in Harn.’
Rianna paled. ‘Harn! But I thought that Mircon was content with his new position serving Chancellor Lesand.’
‘Harn will be safer.’ Jenna’s voice shook with feeling. ‘If only I could take you with us, my lady. I am concerned for your safety. I know there are some who plot against you, just as they plotted against Prince Tarn in the past.’
‘I do not understand,’ Rianna said in confusion.
‘Soon after we arrived here a nobleman of the court sought me out. On a number of occasions he has questioned me, then forced me to pleasure him. Now his attentions are becoming more frequent and more demanding. He frightens me. I dare not tell Mircon about the sexual favours I’m forced to provide but I’ve told him about the constant questions. I’m certain the nobleman suspects an involvement between you and Prince Tarn.’
‘I cannot believe this.’ Rianna tried to hide her rising concern. ‘Why is he doing this? Why would he ever suspect such a thing?’
‘I am not certain,’ Jenna replied. ‘But he appears to hate Prince Tarn. Mircon made some enquiries and discovered that someone had been questioning the guards who accompanied us from Harn. Both the sergeant in command of the prisoner’s guards, and Rorg appear to have become quite wealthy of late. They’ve been spending large quantities of silver in the local brothels and taverns.’
‘They cannot reveal what they do not know,’ Rianna said with shaky confidence. ‘Apart from you and Mircon, only Lesand knows the whole truth. I’m certain he’ll not betray me. Whatever anyone else says, Jenna, nothing can be proven.’
‘But the seeds of suspicion can take root. You must take care not to nourish them in any way,’ Jenna replied anxiously. ‘The palace is a hotbed of intrigue. Mircon tells me that when Tarn was leading the rebellion against Sarin, rumours abounded that someone who knew his plans was revealing them to Lord Sarin. By knowing Tarn’s strategy in advance, Sarin was able to gain the upper hand and crush the rebellion. Perhaps this same traitor now pursues you, my lady.’
‘Do not distress yourself, Jenna. I will speak to the chancellor. He has the power to ensure I am safe. You marry Mircon and be happy.’
‘There is something else,’ Jenna said unhappily. ‘It’s said that Lord Sarin told Tarn that he holds a kinsman of his prisoner. He threatened to harm the man if Tarn did not agree to become his slave. Nevertheles
s, Mircon cannot as yet locate the whereabouts of this prisoner, as none of the gaolers will talk.’
‘I married a monster!’ Rianna said with anguish, relieved in a strange way to know that Tarn had not surrendered willingly.
Chapter Nine
WITH RIANNA’S BLESSING, Jenna and Mircon decided to depart for Harn almost immediately. Rianna tried, with little success, to discovery the identity of the nobleman who’d persecuted her maidservant. Eventually she was sure she would find out who he was, as Jenna had provided her with a very accurate description of the man. At present Chancellor Lesand was away from court, negotiating a treaty with a neighbouring land. When he returned, Rianna intended to seek out his help. Even if the nobleman tried to move against her in some way, she knew the Chancellor would do everything in his power to protect her.
The evening after Jenna and Mircon set out for Harn, Rianna was required to attend a reception to honour a number of foreign noblemen whose lands had forged strong trading connections with Percheron. The great hall of the palace was specially decorated for the occasion with garlands of sweet-smelling flowers and brightly coloured silk banners. Rich carpets covered the marble floor, and the divans scattered around the central area, which was left free for the entertainment, were already overflowing with guests.
Everyone was bejewelled and richly dressed in brocades, silks, satins and velvets. Rianna stood out among all the women because of the simplicity of her garments: a bodice and skirt of white silk, edged with silver.
Sarin, dressed in cloth-of-gold, escorted her regally across the great hall to their seats on a raised dais at one end of the chamber. Rianna sat beside him on the velvet-covered divan, while Niska, as befitting her position, was obliged to perch on a low stool at Rianna’s side. All of Sarin’s other concubines were present, the majority to provide comfort and sexual favours to the guests, most of whom were male. His favourites sat apart in a special section of the chamber.
Rianna cast a sideways glance at Sarin. She had never noticed before the hard set of his mouth, the coldness in his dark eyes. She found it difficult to look at him now without revealing her hatred and resentment, yet despite everything she still desired him. Rianna could only presume he had somehow cast a spell over her senses.
It was then that she saw Tarn making his way through the crowds of guests towards Sarin. Tarn looked magnificent, every inch a Prince of Kabra. He was bare-chested, and his golden skin glistened in the soft light, bringing extra emphasis to his muscular physique. His hair was freshly washed and gleaming, lying like a glowing halo around his head and down over his shoulders. Tarn wore full, white silk trousers tucked into cream suede boots, and a wide, gold-linked belt around his waist. Only the narrow metal collar around his neck and the ornate wrist manacles betrayed his position as a slave.
One of the guests, a nobleman from a distant land, turned to smile warmly at Tarn, perhaps not aware of how far he had fallen since they last met. Tarn ignored the greeting and continued onwards until he reached the dais. Stopping, he stared up at Sarin for a long heart-stopping moment, then fell to his knees and uttered one auspicious word, ‘Master.’
‘Come, slave. You may stand at my side and serve me,’ Sarin said with a self-satisfied smile.
As Tarn moved closer, Rianna was filled with a sudden rush of desire. Even in his distress he was achingly beautiful. ‘Handsome, is he not?’ Niska leant forward and whispered in Rianna’s ear. ‘I intend to have him for myself once Lord Sarin tires of him.’
Rianna ignored Niska’s words; her only interest was Tarn. She saw the determined set of her beloved’s mouth, the raw pain in his blue eyes. She could see his agony even if others could not. For the briefest of seconds their eyes made contact. A spark of joy lit up his face before he managed to hide his feelings and compose himself again. Trembling with the intensity of her emotions, Rianna tried to ignore the sudden fire in her pudenda as her body cried out for him.
Tarn stood behind Sarin, so close she could almost reach out and touch his smooth, golden flesh. Rianna closed her eyes, remembering the feel of his hands caressing her, the bliss of his naked body pressed against hers, and the wondrous fulfilment when he’d made love to her. Whatever Sarin did to them both, he could never take their memories away.
Time seemed to pass quickly as the slaves moved among the guests, serving food and drink. Rianna tried to make it appear she was watching the slave girls dancing, the jugglers and the acrobats, but in reality all her thoughts were directed towards Tarn. Sarin made him sit on the floor by his side. Now and then, Rianna saw Sarin reach out and touch his pleasure slave almost with affection. There was an atmosphere, a tension between the two men, that made her shiver with apprehension. They were opposing ends of the same spectrum, one dark, one light.
Rianna felt a sharp stab of jealousy every time Sarin patted Tarn’s shoulder or played absent-mindedly with his blond hair. It was clear that Sarin desired Tarn, but she could not even begin to imagine how Tarn felt about his supposed master. To Rianna’s disappointment, when Sarin left the dais to talk to his many guests, he insisted Tarn accompany him. She’d hoped she would have the opportunity to discreetly try and speak to Tarn again.
‘So I’m not the only one who lusts after Lord Sarin’s new pleasure slave,’ Niska commented thoughtfully, as Rianna closely watched the two men make their way across the great hall.
‘You’re imagining things, Niska,’ Rianna snapped. ‘Not all my thoughts revolve around lust, like yours.’
‘You lie badly,’ Niska mocked. ‘He’s quite the handsomest man I’ve ever seen, and he’s mightily well-endowed. I can vouch that for myself,’ she said with a husky laugh. ‘But I wager you know that already, dear, sweet, innocent Rianna.’
‘You’re mad,’ Rianna said uneasily.
‘I hear you spent an inordinate amount of time on the journey from Harn tending Tarn’s wounds. I see pain and something else in your eyes when you look at him.’
‘Why not,’ Rianna replied boldly. ‘He’s a distant kinsman, and of royal blood. He does not deserve such an ignoble fate.’
‘Perhaps he does not, but Tarn is his own worst enemy. He should not believe all Sarin tells him. One day Tarn will discover the true extent of the treachery surrounding him. By then of course it will be too late. Sarin will have worked his sensual magic and subdued Tarn completely.’
‘You speak in riddles,’ Rianna said curtly. ‘And you’re wrong if you think Tarn will ever willingly accept his slavery.’
‘Mark my words, he will, because Sarin has the ability to see our darkest desires and use them against us. Deep in his heart, Tarn wants Sarin, I’m certain of that.’
‘You’re wrong, so very wrong,’ Rianna insisted.
‘Careful, Rianna, you reveal too much of your inner feelings.’ Niska narrowed her eyes and stared at her rival. ‘You care deeply for Tarn, do you not? Such emotions are dangerous for a wife of Lord Sarin.’
‘I care nothing for Tarn,’ Rianna lied, hot colour staining her pale cheeks. ‘If Lord Sarin returns, tell him I’ve retired as I feel unwell.’
Rising to her feet, Rianna stepped from the dais and made her way to the side of the great hall. Niska’s words made her fearful and agitated. She was surrounded by those who wished her nothing but harm. The only people she felt she could remotely trust were Yasmin and Lesand.
She stepped into a chamber leading off the great hall. Lit only by a few lamps, the edges of the room were in darkness. Later the room would be put to good use, by those seeking privacy for their casual sexual encounters. Thankfully, at present it was empty. Rianna leant her head against a cool, marble pillar and closed her eyes, trying to quell the agitated beating of her heart.
‘Lady Rianna.’ The deep male voice was unknown to her. ‘Are you unwell?’ the tall, good-looking man asked as he stepped from the shadows.
‘I’m just a little over-heated,’ she said breathlessly, thinking there was something familiar about his features, although she coul
d not recall meeting him before. ‘I am afraid I do not know you, sir.’
‘As yet, you do not.’ Any sign of his previous concern vanished as his tone hardened. ‘But I know you all too well. Have you retired because you cannot bear to watch Tarn meekly serving Lord Sarin? How can one so great have fallen so far?’ he continued, mockingly.
‘I must leave.’ She went to move away, but he grabbed hold of her. Rianna caught sight of the thick gold bracelet set with precious stones on his right wrist. ‘You forget your manners,’ she said haughtily, knowing without a doubt this was Jenna’s persecutor.
‘Why did you allow Jenna to leave?’ he growled. ‘I intended to have her for myself. She would have made a good pleasure slave. She has spirit and she enjoys sex with a lusty abandonment. Perhaps you feared that she knew too much and some day might betray you?’
‘Jenna left to return to her family. It had been arranged long before we first left Harn,’ Rianna replied, knowing she had to discover this man’s identity. Perhaps that would give her some clue as to his motives and his hatred of Tarn.
‘You’re trying to deceive me, Rianna.’ Smiling mercilessly, he ran his fingers through her hair and stroked the exposed curves of her breasts.
‘When Lord Sarin learns of your behaviour, you’ll find yourself in the dungeons,’ she threatened, beginning to feel fearful.
‘Dungeons?’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Don’t be sure of that, beautiful one. You’ll tell Sarin nothing of this encounter.’ Snapping the laces of her bodice, he jerked the fabric apart to expose her breasts. ‘Such sweet teats,’ he said hungrily, as he squeezed her rosy nipples.
Despite her anguish and fear, Rianna felt a sudden rush of lust spear her belly. Sarin had conditioned her body to crave carnal pleasure. Denied his attention for some time, her traitorous flesh ached for fulfilment. ‘Leave me be,’ she flared. ‘How dare you treat me like this, I’m Lord Sarin’s wife.’
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