Savage

by Lila Dubois

“Different things. The beast is sleeping, so something has to happen to wake it up. Mostly what happens is…” Anga paused to giggle.

  “Is it, perhaps, something that involves a man and a woman?”

  Anga’s incessant giggle was infectious, and Siara smiled. Though she had only lost her own long-held virginity a few days ago, Siara felt quite worldly by comparison.

  “In here.” Anga dragged her through the low doorway of a long squat hut. The dim interior smelled both musky and sweet. The floor was covered with thatched mats. Seated on the mats, a bevy of girls were clustered into groups around large pots.

  They were harvesting honey. One group scraped the honey from the comb, another stirred a large pot of sticky gold liquid suspended over the fire, and the last group poured honey through a heavy strainer.

  In the dim light, pale bare arms and breasts gleamed.

  Siara jerked her eyes to the ceiling, hoping the darkness hid her blush. She’d seen her share of female breasts in the College, but they’d been brief glimpses, at quick flash as a girl changed gowns, nothing more.

  “This is Siara, the girl Anleeh-Ori brought home!”

  The girls all squealed in delight, several jumping up. Siara realized she couldn’t just stare at the wall and so reluctantly dropped her eyes to face level.

  “Hello…”

  Two girls disappeared behind her. Nimble fingers loosened her top before Siara had time to protest. As the fur dropped, Siara brought her hands up to cover her breasts; unfortunately this gave the girls better access to whisk off the bottom fur.

  A plain piece of tan linen was wrapped over her hips, knotted at one side.

  The girls stepped back, beaming.

  Siara, hands still covering her breasts, could only gape at them.

  “Oh! Maybe I should have explained, but we don’t wear our furs in the honey tent. It’s much easier to get it off of skin than out of the fur.”

  “Indeed. That is very practical.”

  Anga grabbed one of her wrists, jerking her hand from her breast and dragging her to sit in the center of the room. Aware that it would be ludicrous to continue to hold her breast as she was, Siara dropped her remaining hand, painfully aware of how her large, soft breasts looked when compared to the firm, high-mounted breasts of the younger women.

  Seated cross legged beside Anga, she let the other girl’s scattered manner drive the conversation, however circuitous the route may be.

  “She didn’t even know how the beast comes, yet she has one, and she cannot speak our language!”

  “Well, I understand it well enough, just some of your vocabulary and colloquialisms are new to me.”

  “Ohhh, she doesn’t speak our language. What funny words!”

  “Nay,” Siara smiled, and with the confidence of a longtime teacher, “those are words used in the common language that we both speak. What I mean is that here in Den you have words we do not use in the Great City, and you use them in a different way.”

  “Tell us about the City,” they pleaded.

  Slowly, worried her home sickness would return, Siara began to speak. She described the shape of the valley with its hills rolling down to shelter the expanse of the City, with the Temple nestled into the hills on one end, the Palace at the other, each protected by high stone walls.

  The paved streets and night lamps earned gasps of pleasure, as did the description of the fine fabrics and jewels that could be traded.

  Smiling at the eager faces around her, Siara spoke of the Temple and the College.

  “So girls like us would live in the Temple? And you would teach them?”

  “There were many teachers, and I was one before I became Head Mistress.”

  “But … what did you do?”

  “The College was responsible for many things. It is from the ranks of the girls in the College that the acolytes of the Priestess are chosen. We were also accountable for the maintenance of the library, for the safeguarding of our history. That is why I have come here. There are only few records about Den in the library; there should be more, and though I have only been here a short while I know it to be a land rich in beauty, with exceptionally beautiful girls.”

  They all giggled appreciatively, though one worried voice asked, “Jahrl-Ori says Den’s strength is in its secrets.”

  Tread carefully. “Jahrl has accepted me and is aware of my purpose here.”

  “Enough of that,” said a bright eyed girl, with breasts that had not yet grown, “I want to know about Anleeh-Ori.”

  “Anleeh-Ori?” she asked, raising her brows in question.

  “Ori means, of the royal house, like um…”

  “Prince,” another supplied.

  Siara smiled. “Prince Anleeh. It is fitting.” Remembering his Uncle’s seeming disdain for Anleeh’s position and status, Siara looked around at the rapt faces surrounded by glossy locks. She had no doubt that every word she spoke would be spread throughout the village.

  “Do you know the story of the Dark War, of how an evil man slaughtered the Queen and Princess?”

  They all nodded.

  “What happened next?”

  “The younger daughter went to the Temple, where her mother had been Priestess…”

  “—and the sons of the five most noble houses went with her.”

  “Yes. And what title were they given?”

  “Zinah.”

  “You are very clever, and correct. The Zinahs are the most powerful, clever, and,” Siara leaned low as if she were whispering a secret, “handsome men in all of the Great City.

  “Every time a new Priestess rose, they searched out the perfect men, those who were strong enough to help the Priestess rule the Great City and to fight the evil King.”

  “King Throlock. He’s dead now.”

  “Yes he is, but he would not be if it weren’t for Anleeh.”

  “He was one of the Zinahs.”

  “Indeed, and by far the most handsome of them.”

  The girls giggled and pretended to swoon.

  “Anleeh served as the Minister of Justice, now Lord Justice, making sure that each person in the City had the same rights as all the others.” This statement was met with blank stares so Siara moved on.

  “His great bravery in battle was often the talk of the city. He saved the life of the Prima Zinah, who is now King, more times than anyone could count. And, with every step he took, women swooned at his feet.”

  “But he didn’t notice them,” one young thing piped in.

  “Nay, he did not,” another added.

  “Because he loves you,” a third concluded. They smiled at one another, pleased with their clever deduction.

  Siara paused, mouth open. Considering the lies they’d told to explain her presence, to protect her, it made sense that the girls would conclude that Anleeh loved her. To them it must appear that’d he returned home with the woman he loved, his soon-to-be wife at his side.

  Feeling the sweet thrills of pleasure the silly talk had caused washing away on a tide of reality, Siara could do nothing but force a smile and dutifully repeat, “Yes, because he loves me.”

  Anleeh entered the Hall and every girl under the age of seventeen burst into shrieks and giggles, then fled. Like the tide parting around a rock, they flowed around him on their way out the door. When the Hall emptied he could see several men, older warriors who had earned their right to rest by the fire after dinner, seated at one of the long tables. Curled on a cushion by the fire, Siara, wildly gorgeous with her tumbling hair, barely concealed curves, and fire lit skin, was industriously writing in one of her notebooks. Charmed by the contrast of her fuckable pose and her studious activities, Anleeh almost forgot his annoyance with her. Almost.

  He slid onto the cushion behind her. She did not react, her quill continuing to scratch across the page. His hand came around and pressed against her belly, fingers spreading wide to cover as much flesh as he could, using firm pressure to slide her back against his chest.

  �
�Tell me, lover, why is it that those girls ran from me just now?”

  “I’m sure I have no idea.”

  “Hmmm, yet I thought I’d overhead a conversation where one cub was telling another some very interesting things about me, and that she’d learned them from you.”

  “Indeed. Well, after I wandered through the camp by myself for several hours, unsure how or who to approach without causing offense, stranded in a foreign place with no one to…”

  Uh oh. “Siara, I’m sorr-”

  “Please let me finish. As I stood against a tree, I finally understood how horribly misplaced the King and Queen’s trust in me was. I am so woefully unqualified and unable to do this job…”

  “Ahh lover, please tell me you do not believe that.”

  “A young girl approached me. She was very kind and took me to the honey processing building, where I met her companions and we talked for several hours. To be surrounded by young girls felt like being back at the College, felt like being home.”

  Her voice broke on the last word, a great suppressed sob heaving her shoulders. Anleeh closed his eyes, regret for his treatment of her washing through him, obliterating his annoyance. He was not the injured party here. Ignoring the stares of the men, hoping they did not realize she was crying, Anleeh scooped Siara up and carried her outside. The sleeping alcove was neither big enough nor private enough for this conversation.

  He carried her out of the Hall and into the woods, the hour late enough that he encountered no one.

  “You left me alone,” she accused softly.

  “Yes.”

  “All day, then into the night. I ate by myself for I knew no one, no one talked to me.”

  “I know, lover.”

  “I cannot do this.”

  “You can.”

  “Nay! I cannot, I do not know how to talk to people I do not know.”

  “You never had a problem doing so when you were Headmistress.”

  “It was different. I was someone, someone important. They respected me, knew me. Here I am nothing, a dark haired freak.”

  “You are not a freak, and you can do this. You were fearless when we first walked into the Hall, and then you played disobedient to help me gain reputation. How were you able to do all those things if you are so unqualified?”

  Siara was quiet for several moments; her body relaxed even though he continued to carry her, which he knew still made her uncomfortable.

  “I was only able to do those things because you were with me.”

  The comment was so whisper-soft that the breeze almost snatched it away.

  Anleeh let her slide to the ground, catching her face in his hands to hold it still. The emotions he could read in her features broke his heart. Here was the cool eyed Headmistress, competent and calm, masking the quivering innocent he’d relieved of her virginity. So complex—both confident and unsure of her own worth, fearless and fragile.

  Anleeh slipped to his knees before her, knowing she wouldn’t understand the significance of the gesture. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he rested his cheek against her belly.

  “I have treated you poorly and for that I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you; that is why I pushed you away. In the beginning I knew that coming to Den would be hard for anyone they sent, never mind a woman, and one of such character. I dreaded your training, even as I longed for your body. What if I changed you? Broke you? And then, with each kiss, each bright word and act of bravery, you became dearer to me and the idea of hurting you became more abhorrent.

  “I trained you, and it changed you. There are parts of you now exposed which you kept safely hidden in the Temple, and that is my doing.”

  “Nay, it is mine, for I was ready to be changed.”

  Anleeh looked up. “Truth?”

  “Truth,” she confirmed with a calm smile.

  “That does not excuse how I treated you.” He wanted her to hate him, wanted her to be mad, anything but filled with the homesick self-doubt she’d displayed in the Hall. He needed her to be strong and confident. He depended on her strength. His own ability to function with a lifetime’s worth of memories and worries pressing down was reliant on her. Had she not been with him, had she not been the creature of strength and integrity that she was, he would already have failed.

  Anleeh pressed his cheek to her bare belly, smelling hearth-fire smoke, honey and Siara herself. Her fingers traced through hair, combing it back from his face, her firm touch on his scalp comforting.

  “If you so feared hurting me,” she said, “why were you so cruel to me this morning?”

  “I did not mean to be. There are things I do not want to talk about. I’m not ready, and I don’t know if I ever will be, so I pushed you away.”

  “Anleeh, I must confess that I do not understand your fear regarding discussing this land. I have found nothing among the people to warrant that.”

  “There are still things in Den you do not understand.”

  “I know. That is why I asked for your help.” Exasperation crept into her voice and Anleeh knew he was doing a poor job of explaining.

  “I’m sorry. You want answers and explanations, but Den keeps its own secrets. There are things I don’t know if I will ever be able to tell you.” He was talking about his mother, and when he tilted his head to look at her, Anleeh had to wonder if she didn’t know that was what he referred to. “Siara, I hope you were careful today. The people can be barbaric.”

  “I would not say barbaric. While what they did to you yesterday, the way they made you fight, was awful, it was nothing barbaric, it was a ritual. The man who challenged you last night was far better behaved than some of the soldiers newly come to the Temple.”

  She didn’t understand, and, perversely, he was glad of it. “You have not seen what we are capable of.”

  “Then tell me.”

  He pressed his face into her stomach and did not reply. Siara stroked his head and whispered, “I am not so innocent as you would make me, Anleeh.”

  Silence stretched between them before he kissed her belly and looked up once more.

  “Things will be different from now on. Tomorrow I will take you around, introduce you. There will still be times, like tonight, when I must go with the men.”

  “I want you to tell me what you do with the men, or take me with you.”

  “You cannot come with me. I spent the evening naked in the sweat house.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Anleeh laughed. “There’s my Siara.” Hands still on her hips, he rose. “I will tell you what I can, and I will do my best to make others accept you, but it will take time. My own acceptance is tentative.”

  “There I think you are wrong. Your battle yesterday and the public punishment you administered to me, these are both things that confer status, correct?”

  “As always you are correct, lover.”

  “And of course, you are their Ori.”

  “It seems you did more than spread lies with the girls, you learned a few things too,” he teased.

  “My translation is not exact, but I believe by calling you Anleeh-Ori,” she grinned, “I am calling you Prince Anleeh.”

  The ownership of, and responsibility to the people conveyed in the title—one he once considered no more than his due—made him uncomfortable. Siara reached up and rubbed the frown line between his drawn-down brows.

  “The title is not the same,” he countered.

  “Yes, your highness.”

  “Enough woman.”

  “Whatever your majesty demands.”

  “Do you want another spanking?”

  “If it would please your royal majesty.” Siara, struggling to keep a straight face, danced away, dodging behind trees as Anleeh playfully chased her.

  “When I catch you…”

  “If you catch me.”

  “When I catch you, I will punish you until you tell me exactly what you told those girls. Half the village will have heard the tales by now.”

  “Only
half? I’d rather hoped the whole village would have heard.”

  “You know, it is not far to the nearest wall; I can have you bent and spread before me in seconds, ready to take a spanking.”

  Siara stopped and Anleeh caught her arm, spinning her and pushing her back against a tree. The black centers of her eyes were huge, her arousal having spiked hard and fast.

  “Hands above your head.” He pinned them there when she obeyed. A quick tug freed her breasts and Anleeh flicked a nipple. “The idea arouses you, doesn’t it?” He pinched the other nipple, using it to lift her breast. “I went easy on you last time; this time I would not.”

  Siara moaned and pressed her hips against his. Anleeh started working the lacings of his leggings.

  Siara watched him, the stillness of her body telling him that she waited for his cock to be freed with as much anticipation as he did. When he released himself, his body springing forth, already dripping for want of her flesh, Siara spread her legs and then lifted one, wrapping it over his hip and around to the small of his back, heel digging in. Anleeh pulled the bone pin free and the fur dropped, allowing him to view the warm sex ready for him.

  “Now,” she commanded, and he obeyed, surging forward, his cock sliding in, one hand digging into her hip to lift her for a better angle. He lifted her other leg, helping to wrap it around his waist as he fucked her against the tree, her face pulled tight in a grimace of pleasure as his cock surged and retreated, again and again. There was no quarter, no mercy. There trapped between his body and the tree, she would both have and give pleasure.

  Siara grabbed her breasts, mercilessly working the nipples with tight pinches and rolling twists. The extra sensation was what she needed. Crying out in satisfaction she came, as wild as the forest itself.

  Anleeh jerked away from the tree, Siara held against his chest. Dropping to his knees he pulled free of her body and then repositioned Siara on her knees. Holding open her ass cheeks he surged back into her sex, the angle much different, causing Siara to yelp and moan at the new sensations. Jackknifing his body into hers Anleeh almost didn’t pull out, wrenching himself out of her at the last moment to spill his seed against her ass and thigh.

  Muscles quaking with exhaustion yet strangely rejuvenated, Anleeh sat down, content to simply rest. Siara turned around, still on hands and knees, her breasts hanging full and lush beneath her. Anleeh opened his arms and Siara came, crawling into his lap, curling up as he gently tucked her flush breasts back into the top. When her head dropped to his chest, it felt as though everything would be all right.