A Warrior's Redemption (The Warrior Kind)

by Stanton III, Guy

  The carriage ride didn’t last nearly long enough. When the carriage had come to a complete stop her new master broke his intense and inquisitive study of her and got down out of the carriage. Her charade of being in control completely shattered at the knowledge that they had arrived at her new master’s house. She sat in the carriage unsure of what to do next. Her master held out his hand in a gesture one would have expected to see a gentleman offer to a high born lady. She looked at the outstretched hand and her mind was suddenly made up as to what her course of action would be. She lunged for the opposite side carriage door and flung it open and bounded out towards the city lights flickering beyond. Her blossoming moment of freedom wilted within three steps, as a hand grasped her forearm with the same bruising grip once again. But of course she had been a fool to forget the warrior companion of her master.

  She would now most likely be severely beaten for her attempt to escape, and then something worse would happen again and again.

  The man pulled her around to the other side of the carriage toward where her new master still stood. She kept her head lowered not wanting to show them the tears of frustration that were welling up in her eyes. Once again she felt her master’s cool hand touch her chin and direct the movement of her head upward. Expecting to see anger reflected in his eyes she was surprised instead to see a look of understanding.

  “Freedom can often prove elusive to many of us in life, but one can find peace if they surrender to the inevitable. Even the life of a slave can be bearable, if one surrenders enough.”

  He released her jaw and turned towards the mansion that must be his home. It sat at the end of a street, which gave it more privacy from the other mansions that lined the street. Its architecture rose impressively up before her. Still it struck a balance of not being overly pretentious despite its grandeur. Everything seemed extremely well maintained and in order like the man himself.

  The main doors of the mansion opened with a soft hiss of sound at her master’s approach and he was greeted at once by members of the house hold staff. He lifted a deferential hand to acknowledge their welcome and continued on into the mansion. Krista followed no longer protesting against the unshakable grip on her arm.

  She was fairly bedazzled by what she saw around her as she set foot within the mansion. The floors were made of intricately inlaid marble, which were enclosed by alabaster white walls. Vivid splashes of colorful silk and artwork adorned the walls and hung from the ceiling. A massive chandelier hung overhead of the main vestibule and its candle light sparkled brilliantly off thousands of pieces of glass. She was speechless as she was led up a mahogany stained staircase to the second floor of the mansion. They stopped outside a door which opened from within. Upon entering Krista saw that it was as ornately decorated as the rest of the house only with more of a feminine touch to it. It was a bedroom. There were several women in attendance. Their dress uniforms denoting them as servants or slaves. Alarm grew within Krista and she started to resist further movement into the room. Her master turned to face her as his back faced a large fireplace.

  He confirmed her fears, when he said somewhat speculatively, “Let’s begin. Take those rags off of her and let’s see what we have to work with.”

  At his words Krista twisted against the grip on her arm that was held by her stoic captor. Using the motion of her twist she swung into him and slammed her clenched up left fist directly into his groin. He gave a slight grunt of discomfort, but that was it, which shocked her.

  That always worked! He should have been doubled over in pain, but he wasn’t!

  He quickly grabbed her fist before she could use it again and tightened his hold on her. Having no other recourse she lunged her head forward and sank her teeth into the strong forearm holding her right arm. Suddenly she felt intense pressure on the back of her neck in certain specific spots. Darkness began closing in fast and she half screamed and released her bite trying to escape the pressure squeezing the back of her neck. The grip stayed on her neck and she felt herself going limp, even as she desperately fought against it.

  Krista’s body slumped unconscious against her captor, who picked her up gently instead of allowing her to fall to the floor. He carried her body to a day bed and laid her down.

  The man, who had bought Krista came to stand next to his purchase.

  “She has spirit.”

  “Perhaps too much.” Echoed his guardian reservedly.

  “Nonsense Rugar! One needs all the spirit one can muster to make a go of it in this life. I only hope for her sake and ours that she has enough spirit for what will be required of her.”

  “Sir!” One of the servant girls exclaimed.

  “Yes, what is it?”

  The servant girls had taken Krista’s clothes off and she lay there bare as the day she had been born. The servant girl who had spoken had been behind Krista, as they had taken her clothes off. She reached forward and gently pushed Krista over onto her stomach. The other servant women sucked in their breaths collectively at the sight before them. From the top of Krista’s shoulders down to the cheeks of her bottom was a lattice work of thin white scars interlacing back and forth across her back that stood out whiter than the already white caste of her skin. The group stared in collective shock for a moment, except for Rugar.

  “Young firan cane sprout switches did this. I’ve seen it before. She must have been a field slave at some point, which means she’s a runaway. No slave ever leaves the cane fields for any other reason other than death.”

  On the back of Krista’s left shoulder blade was forever blazed the evidence of her status as a slave. The brand was crude and roughly done. It was in the shape of a nine, but had been branded slightly sideways instead of straight up and down. The edges of the brand were deep and disrupted the smooth skin of Krista’s back.

  “I was right then. She does have spirit to her. What can you do with this Rugar?” Krista’s master asked indicating the crude brand.

  Rugar studied it for a moment and then replied confidently, “I can mask it sufficiently, but these other scars I can do nothing with.”

  “You won’t need to they’ll accentuate the image of her I want people to see.”

  Turning to the servants Krista’s master said, “Clean her up and then assist Rugar in his work.”

  They nodded their heads in unison and he left the room.

  Krista picked her head up off the pillow it had been laying on. She was stiff and completely disoriented. All of a sudden like the rush of a wave crashing onto the seashore everything came back to her in an instant.

  She sat up abruptly and gasped. She had been lying on her stomach, and now looking down at herself her mouth fell open. She had practically nothing on! Nothing that could pass for clothes anyway.

  Her breasts were encased in a soft vibrant material that left a lot of her chest exposed, while her stomach and back were completely bare. The fabric was held in place by thin straps that went up over her shoulders and across her back.

  The left strap had been left undone and the back of her shoulder burned and twitched painfully. She wanted to scratch it but wasn’t sure what her fingers would find so she resisted the urge.

  The room was lit dimly by candle light, but she could still see the light reflecting off the gems that were set in a necklace around her neck. The necklace appeared to be made of solid gold! There were golden arm bands around her upper arms as well.

  She got up from the bed she had been laying on and walked over to a mirror she had seen her reflection in from the bed. Her lower half was incased in nothing but a short silky dress that went no farther than mid thigh and was of a similar pattern and material as what barely encased her breasts.

  She was barefoot, but she could see anklets similar to her necklace adorning her ankles. Her hair was elaborately worked about her face and neck. Somehow they had taken the unruly mass of curls and put them under a semblance of arranged order.

  She touched the skin of h
er bare stomach and then held her fingers up to her nose. They had oiled her skin with some kind of fine lotion and the smell was soothing with a hint of spice to it. She met her own eyes in the mirror and stared at herself in shock. Big tears slid their way down her face, which felt as if it was made of new skin, so tight and sensitive feeling was it. Nothing her short skirt concealed felt as if it had been used, but her fate was as sure as the reflection of the strange erotic looking woman looking back at her from the mirror.

  She would rather have died from the rigors of a life spent as a field slave as opposed to this gilded existence as a pretty bird of paradise locked away in a cage of gold and fine linens. She reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes not wanting to display her moment of weakness to anyone.

  Her action caused her pain from behind her left shoulder blade again. Remembering the pained itchiness she turned and stared over her shoulder in shock at what she saw. The ugly symbol of her slave status was no more and yet it was. Someone had used the darkened edges of the lop sided nine and turned it into the base of a work of art.

  Radiating out from the loop of the nine were the lush petals of a rare tropical hygana flower in full bloom. The tail of the nine was the stem of the flower. The petals were exquisite in detail and lacked nothing in comparison to their natural counterpart. The tattooed shading of the petals and their intricate markings completely masked the ugliness of her old slave scar, which had to be felt to be noticed at all.

  What master would go to such great lengths to hide the ugliness of a scar? Hers apparently! Looking around she saw that she was in the same room as she had been in earlier in the day. The door was open!

  Cautiously she made her way over to it and peered out into the dimly lit corridor. It must be late at night for she heard not a sound except for the chirping of insects outside the mansion. No one was in the hallway, but at the end of the hall light streamed out of an open doorway.

  Drawn like a moth to a flame she slipped into the hallway and softly approached the light diligent not to make any noise in her approach. Reaching the opened door she peered in and beheld a room of a definitely more masculine reflection.

  Sitting behind a big oaken desk to one side of the room sat the man who had bought her. He had piles of paper before him, which he seemed very busy with.

  He was writing something down when he spoke, “Come in and have a seat.”

  He pointed to a chair across from the desk, without even looking up at her. Krista jumped back from the doorway surprised. How had he known she was there? She debated about running back down the hallway to her room, but what good would that do? She cautiously stepped into the room feeling more exposed than she ever had in her whole life.

  “Close the door behind you.”

  Krista swallowed hard, but obeyed. Krista approached the desk and sat in the indicated chair as her master continued watching her closely the entire time.

  “You my dear are truly stunning.” He said the words almost with a hint of regret she thought. “You must have some questions, well, what are they?” He asked somewhat impatiently as he sat back in his chair his hands interlocked behind his head.

  Krista’s voice was soft as she tried to get over the awkwardness of being before a man while half clothed. “Am I to be your sex slave and if I am to be, why all this?” She asked indicating the expensive jewelry she wore.

  He looked at her for a moment and then responded, “Yes, to your first question, but not in the traditional sense of it. As to the golden baubles they are but the expected trappings needed to conjure the image in the minds of others as to what I want them to believe in concern to you.”

  Krista stared at him puzzled not understanding him at all as to what he meant by, ‘not in the traditional sense’.

  Seeming to read her mind he gave an explanation that left her blushing, “I sadly no longer posses the physical part of me that was made to find enjoyment in the created glory of a female body such as your lovely one my dear.”

  Feeling like she had turned ten shades of red she stared at him raptly. Was he saying that he was a eunuch?

  “Yes, I am saying precisely that.” He’d read her mind again!

  “The line of work that I engage in, as well as the spheres of influence in which I mingle necessitate me to imitate a somewhat worldly persona. A worldly persona that unfortunately I am no longer able to fulfill in the natural hence the need for subterfuge with all the fine trimmings, which is where you come in my dear as my devoted companion slave. You will serve me in the public’s eye as my devoted companion catering to my every wish, while in private you will aid me in the work that I do as a trusted assistant. What is your name?”

  “Krista Denas.” Krista managed to get out even as she tried to comprehend the enormity of what he was saying.

  “A fine name. It suites you well. Krista the work I do is of a private nature. Were you to divulge my business to anyone I would have to have you killed. Do I make myself clear?”

  Krista swallowed and nodded her head.

  “In return for your devoted service I will see that no harm comes to you. In the course of our work together I will need to place a lot of trust in you. As a friend would to another friend so to speak, which is how I will treat you out of the public’s eye. In the public’s eye you will appear for all intensive purposes as my sensual slave companion maintaining the facade that I have carried on for quite some time of my younger self. Are your duties clear to you Krista?”

  “Yes, master.” Krista replied quickly unable to hold back a little of the joy that his words had brought her at what he had said their relationship would not consist of.

  “Good, glad to see that you’re as sensible and smart as you are strong of spirit and beautiful of body. Please call me Sebastian instead of master. You make me feel rather tyrannical when you say that.”

  It had been later than she had thought or rather earlier, because the early morning rays of sunlight had begun to stream into the room taking away the shadows of the night’s darkness. “Rugar now that our business relationship has been agreed upon how about we seal it with a good breakfast before we get to work?”

  Startled Krista turned in her chair to see the man, who seemed to be always with Sebastian step away from beside the door and approach into the room. She had to have walked within inches of him, when she had come into the room earlier.

  “Rugar is my trusted companion. Anything you have need of simply ask him and he will within reason perform miracles to accomplish it. Speaking of miracles, mind if I look closer at your shoulder?”

  Sebastian had gotten up and moved to the part of the room where the sun’s light was brightest. It hadn’t really been a request on his part, and she got up and walked over to him and turned her back to him.

  “Well done Rugar! A work of art, if I don’t say so myself.”

  Krista looked at the tall man, with the bruising hands who’d kept her from escaping, with new found respect. He was about to leave when Krista turned back to Sebastian, “If it would please you sirs I will go and get your breakfast and serve you?”

  Sebastian’s eyes twinkled appreciably at the assured way she had assumed her new role and nodded his head in affirmation of her request. Krista paused on her way out the door beside Rugar. She hesitated for a moment and then looked up and said, “Thank you.” She motioned briefly towards the back of her shoulder by way of explanation.

  Rugar gave her a short decisive nod and she continued on out of the room in search of the kitchens. After she was gone Rugar and Sebastian shared a meaningful look.

  “Sebastian she is far rarer than the hygana blossom I tattooed on her back.”

  “Yes she is. We will have to take good care of her.” Sebastian said thoughtfully.

  After breakfast Rugar left the small study without explanation and Sebastian seemed to need none. “Alright my dear let’s get to work. The paper work has been piling up as usual and must be dealt with. Here read throu
gh these letters and find the ones with Zoarinian addresses and separate them out for me.”

  Kristina felt a moment of panic seize her, as he put the letters into her open hand.

  Seeing her expression he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Krista not able to meet his eyes said while staring at the floor dejectedly, “I…. I can’t read. I only know a little about numbers and simple calculations.”

  There was a silent moment, which Sebastian broke by taking the letters back. “A bit of a setback but nothing that can’t be overcome my dear. Come with me.”

  He led her over to a window seat and gestured for her to sit down. He sat down beside her and pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. “Since you don’t know how to read I’ll teach you.”

  He made a big symbol on the paper and pointed at it with the pen. “This is the letter A, as in alley cat. You say it.”

  “A.”

  “Very good.” He made another symbol, “B”.

  Krista repeated the letters after him scarcely able to believe how her fortunes had changed for the better. She had always yearned for the ability to read, which was something slaves were rarely ever taught to do. She hung on every word of instruction from Sebastian, as if it was one more key to a puzzle that unlocked a golden prize.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bloodletting

  I stood beside Flin in the cold early light of dawn. My hands were busy checking that the saddle was on right, while my mind was focused on the journey ahead.

  It had been a week since my discussion with Thaddeus. I thought back over the discussion I’d had with him. I didn’t like the task that I had before me to do. I remembered what Thaddeus had told me in the hidden room and now more than ever I felt that the ancestral knowledge should be destroyed, but I wished that there was a better way.

  He had given me instructions, as to where to find the secret hiding place of the real ancestral artifacts, but there was one problem with that. I had never really traveled in the Attorgron forests much, especially not the area of the forest that he was sending me to and I told him as much. Without a guide or a basic familiarity with the land it would be very easy to get lost in the jungle like habitat of the forest.