by Carew, Opal
The judge glanced through his glasses at the papers on his desk. He cleared his throat, the sound reverberating through the large wood-paneled room.
“Mr. Herrington, in your statement, you say that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family and killed your elder brother, Will, and in turn, you killed Wakefield. Since he was the one who instigated the attack, you claim you acted in self-defense and the defense of your family.”
“That is correct, Your Honor.”
The judge lifted the paper in front of him, then shifted it sideways, examining another.
“It seems, however, that Mr. Wakefield attacked your family because he believed you, Keern Herrington, raped his daughter.”
Anger rocketed through Keern at Shena’s vicious lie, but he kept it tightly hidden.
“I did not, Your Honor.”
The judge leaned forward, his eyes dark and forbidding, and held up a sheaf of papers.
“I have signed statements from a number of people in Mr. Wakefield’s employ who say that when Wakefield heard rumors of the alleged rape from a neighbor, Wakefield confronted his daughter and she claimed you did.”
“She lied,” Keern stated calmly, although he felt anything but calm.
The judge glanced around the courtroom and scowled.
“Well, since Miss Wakefield is not available for questioning at the moment, I have no way to verify that.”
“Your Honor, we have evidence to support Mr. Herrington’s claim.”
Keern glanced at his lawyer, and the man nodded back, a sure smile gripping his face. The lawyer had told Keern as they stepped into court this morning that he had new evidence that would prove Keern’s innocence, but had refused to tell him what it was. The man loved the dramatic.
“Well, bring it here, man,” the judge ordered.
The lawyer approached the judge and handed him a large, flat envelope. The judge opened the flap, tugged out a piece of paper, and examined it. He shook his head, his mouth a grim, straight line.
“Well, that explains why the young woman’s not here,” he muttered.
Keern’s heart froze. Was Shena dead?
The judge raised his gaze to the courtroom. “It seems that the young woman has been sold to the slavers. I have a photograph here that shows her in the slavers’ camp, and the brand on her wrist verifies she was a virgin. She’s holding a newspaper showing the date as two days ago. The claim she made to her father about Mr. Herrington was obviously false.”
He turned his gaze to Keern. “Well, Mr. Herrington, it seems you were telling the truth. This hearing is adjourned.”
His gavel cracked against his desk, and joyful voices erupted around Keern.
But Keern hardly heard them, or felt the slaps on his back from his brother and cousin.
Shena had been sold to the slavers?
He approached the judge and reached for the photograph. The judge handed it to him, and he stared at the image of Shena, wearing a plain white gown, a circle branded into the soft, pale flesh of her inner arm, visible as she held a newspaper. The article she read was about her father’s attack on Keern’s family.
A slaver ship had left yesterday. That was probably the one she’d been on. His stomach twisted. Protective urges swarmed through him at the thought of the slavers touching her, pushing their devices into her, at the pain she would have felt when she’d been branded, but he slammed back those urges. That witch had been the cause of Will’s death and she deserved every foul experience fate seemed eager to give her.
As a virgin, she would not suffer a great deal on the way to the slave market, but she would be trained. That would not be pleasant. No, where she would truly receive her just punishment for her treachery would be at the hands of her master.
If only he could be the one to administer that punishment.
* * * * *
Keern pulled his pack from the back of the wagon.
“Are you sure you want to do this, Keern?” Jacob asked. “You know we could really use your help, with Will gone and all.”
“I have to do this. Jordan is more than ready to take over the household.”
“Well, if I can’t talk you out of leaving, can I accompany you while you find transport?”
“No need. I’ll manage.”
Jacob nodded and shook his hand firmly. “I hope I’ll be seeing you again, cousin.”
Keern smiled. “I’m sure you will. Take care of them for me, Jacob.”
Keern turned and walked away, hearing the creaky wheels of the wagon and the clomping of the horses’ hooves as Jacob left.
Keern knew the slavers would be heading for E’Le’Dor, the only planet in the coalition that still allowed slavery. Not many passenger ships serviced Tarun, but he negotiated passage on a small trade ship. Luckily, E’Le’Dor was a prime location on the trade route.
Chapter Eight
Shena followed the woman in front of her, prodded forward by the guard. The door of the ship slid open, revealing an alien landscape beyond. A sea of sand. A wavy horizon. An amber sky.
The planet E’Le’Dor.
She plodded forward, sixth in a long line of women, her ankles and wrists weighed down with chains. The skinny, vacant-eyed young woman ahead of her stumbled as she passed through the doorway. Shena felt the dense, stifling air blast in her face. Her dwindling reserve of energy seared away as she concentrated on moving one foot at a time down the ramp.
Setting foot on an alien planet sent a tremor through her. She squinted against the blazing light of an unfamiliar sun. Her stomach twisted at the thought that soon she would be sold to some brute whose only interest in her was claiming her virginity.
Who would buy her and how she would be treated, she didn’t know, but she was sure it would be a horrendous experience. Some of the other women speculated about rich men buying them and lavishing them with jewels and fine silks, but Shena knew better than to fill her mind with such fancy.
These men wanted fresh virgin bodies, and more than likely once their hymens were spent, the women would be discarded, replaced with new virgin meat. Then they’d probably be sold to brothels. Or for labor. Or just put to death.
Keern watched as Shena was led to the block. He was shocked at the emptiness in her eyes.
After hearing of Wakefield’s death, one of his soldiers must have sold her to the slavers. Keern was surprised she hadn’t been raped by such a despicable man, but it seemed he was more interested in platinum than lust, because Shena was listed as a prime virgin, and interest in her at the market was high.
Keern had arrived on the planet several days before the slavers. His friend Jakmerah was very influential and had accompanied him today to bid on Shena.
The guard shoved Shena’s bound hands over a large, dangling hook. Then another man pulled a chain, hauling the hook and Shena’s arms upward, until she held herself on her tiptoes. She barely seemed to have the strength to do that.
The auctioneer regaled Shena’s attributes in a dialect Keern could barely understand. He heard words like “stunning beauty” and “hair like golden sunshine.” Then the man tore open her rag of a garment, exposing her naked body to the whole marketplace. A protective instinct shot through Keern and he jerked forward, but his companion grabbed his arm.
“Easy, Keern. There is nothing you can do for her now. Leave this to me.”
Keern froze, then nodded. He trusted Jakmerah. He had to leave this in his hands.
The auctioneer slid his hand under Shena’s left breast, lifting it slightly, saying words Keern couldn’t hear through the red-hot rage slicing through him. He swore to himself he would tear the man’s hands off if he ever got close to him. Shena just stood there, like a lifeless statue. The man gestured and the hook rose higher, until she hung from her wrists. He spun her around, lifting her garment to run his hand along her round, firm derriere. Then he spun her back and lifted her ankles, starting to spread her legs.
“Darg’ra, Jakmerah,” Keern muttered under his breath. “Do so
mething to stop this, or I will!”
Keern hated the protective urges compressing his insides. He despised this woman. What did he care if she was humiliated? Of course, he was disgusted at the thought of any woman being put through such degradation. It wasn’t stronger because it was Shena, he assured himself.
Jakmerah nodded and did a throat-cutting gesture to one of his guards. The guard signaled to the auctioneer, who glanced at Jakmerah, then nodded and stepped away from Shena. She hung now, motionless, eyes closed.
The auctioneer started the bidding. Eager men called out their bids, the numbers going higher and impossibly higher. Keern glanced at Jakmerah, wondering if they’d lost her.
After another minute of bidding, Jakmerah lifted one finger. The auctioneer nodded and announced the bidding closed.
Jakmerah drew a horizontal circle with his finger, and the auctioneer rushed to Shena to release her and throw a rough blanket around her shoulders. Keern’s taut nerves eased a little once Shena was covered.
“What happened?” Keern asked.
“One of the advantages of social standing,” Jakmerah responded. “If I see a woman I want, I get her. Courtesy is to let the bidding rise, to see what price she would have brought, and that is considered their tribute to me. I rarely take advantage of such privilege, so they will feel highly honored by this transaction.”
“And how will I repay you, my old friend?”
“With your continued friendship. That is, after all, the true measure of a man’s wealth.”
Keern slapped him on the back and nodded his thanks. He turned to see Shena being led from the stage, clutching at the blanket, just like she had clung to his cape after he’d swung it around her shoulders the first time they’d met. He slammed that memory aside, knowing images of the blood-boiling passion that followed would overtake him otherwise.
Keern watched as two of Jakmerah’s guards went to fetch Shena. She would be transported in the utility vehicle flown by the guards, while Keern rode with Jakmerah in his luxury air car.
When they arrived at Jakmerah’s palatial estate, the guards parked at the back entry with Shena while Keern and Jakmerah stepped out of the comfort of Jakmerah’s air-conditioned car at the front steps of the huge stone home. The oppressive heat of the day had cooled a little as the sun sank toward the horizon.
“Do you want me to send her to your room, or would you like a special suite?” Jakmerah asked.
The guest room Jakmerah had provided was a suite by anyone else’s standards, comprising a sitting room with two adjacent bedrooms, each with adjoining bathrooms. By a special suite, Keern knew he meant a sumptuous room set up for seduction.
“My room,” Keern answered.
“I know you said you wanted her brought to you this evening, but I wish you would reconsider. The woman has endured a terrible ordeal. I’m sure she is exhausted and frightened. Why don’t you let me send her to the women of my household? They will bathe her and give her clean clothing and a good meal. Let her rest tonight, and she will be much more enjoyable tomorrow, I promise you.”
“Jak,” Keern said, through clenched teeth, “it is vengeance I seek, not a passionate romp.”
“So you say, but I saw the way you looked at her, the way you strained to protect her. What has she done to deserve your need for vengeance?”
“She killed my brother.”
Jakmerah’s black brows rose. “This small woman wielded a sword against your brother?”
“Her father actually drove the sword into Will, but it was her intentional lies that forced the act.”
“What form will this vengeance of yours take?”
Jakmerah’s intent gaze unsettled Keern. They both knew Keern had total control over Shena now that she belonged to him, a gift from Jakmerah. Keern could do anything to her, according to the laws of this planet, including torture, mutilation, even death. She was his property.
Jakmerah squeezed Keern’s shoulder. “I know you, old friend. It is not like you to take vengeance on the helpless.”
“You knew me, old friend. Before the wounds inflicted by that witch. Anything I do to her is a reflection of what she did to me.”
Jakmerah sighed. “It is your business, Keern.”
A servant opened the heavy, rounded oak door, and they strolled inside. The marble floors and a fountain splashing in the centre of the foyer added to the cool, pleasant feel of the room.
“You will send her this evening?” Keern asked Jakmerah.
“Will you agree to a bath and a meal?”
“Yes. Whatever.”
“And something to wear?” Her garment had been shredded on the auction block.
“Fine. But no fancy clothing.”
“Agreed. Something simple, but clean.”
* * * * *
Shena followed the guard through the long marble hallways, preparing to meet her fate. Thank heavens some sort of wonderful technology kept the air cool inside this place.
When she’d arrived here, some women had brought her a clean gown and some food, then led her to a bath where she could wash off the sweat that had clung to her ever since arriving on this oven of a planet. After her bath, the women had warned her that the man who’d bought her hated her and wanted to hurt her. It seemed he had known her father. Probably one of his many enemies. Apparently, her new owner had decided to exact revenge on her for whatever wrongdoing her father had wrought.
As if being sold into slavery wasn’t bad enough, she had to be bought by some merciless man just like her father.
The two guards led her through a sumptuous palace, which she hardly saw. They led her up a grand staircase and along a stately hallway, then another, until they reached a double doorway at the end of the corridor. They knocked, then opened the door and led her into a sitting room. The guards turned and left. She heard the click of the lock after they closed the door.
She stood in the center of the finely appointed room, feeling a little faint. Two leather chairs sat facing a large window, the drawn curtains hiding whatever view lay beyond. She longed to sink into one of the chairs and fall into a deep, peaceful sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep even if she dared to sit. Which she did not.
Over the weeks aboard the trader ship, she had learned very well what happened when she disobeyed whatever man happened to be master at the time. Her back still stung from the lashes she’d received, a punishment she’d been told many slave owners preferred, probably for its entertainment value. Just like her father had. She preferred to avoid any more, and she felt certain sitting without being given permission would be considered disobedient.
A door opened, not the one through which she’d entered. She did not look at the man. That would be a sign of insolence. She kept her gaze cast downward.
“Look at me.”
She glanced up at him with unfocused eyes, making out the vague image of a tall, bearded man with dark, piercing eyes.
Keern stared at her, acutely aware of the hollows at the base of her neck and the gaunt look of her face. She had lost weight.
She stared up at him with eyes dull and lifeless, until her gaze caught on his -- and held. A glimmer of fear and possibly ... pain? ... rippled across the placid blue pools, but no recognition.
He strode toward her and grabbed her chin, a little too roughly, and locked gazes with her.
“Look at my face. Do you remember me?”
Confusion washed across her features, and then recognition sparked in her eyes.
“Keern.” His name shuddered from her. Her voice, trembling with torment, quavered slightly.
Chapter Nine
He savored the effect, committing it to memory, tucked away in a place he could retrieve it often to soothe the vivid recall of pain too long subdued. Inflicted by her. Of a heart too long shattered. Broken by her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
His gaze locked on hers and held tight. She shrank slightly.
“I own you, and
I intend to make you pay for the death of my brother.”
She stood trembling.
“You lied to your father. You told him I’d stolen your virginity. He and his men attacked my family. He killed my brother, thinking it was me.”
She shook her head, her eyes wide and liquid. “I know, Keern. I’m so sorry. I --”
“Shut up!” he barked.
She flinched at his harsh words, and he pressed toward her.
“There is one reason, and one reason only, why you are here. So I can punish you for the pain you have caused.” His jaw clenched around the words.
“But I didn’t --”
“Shut up! I don’t want to hear your lies.”
“You won’t let me explain?”
“Why should I? I remember all too well how good you are at deceit.”
He stepped toward her. Her back stiffened, and she refused to step back, but she couldn’t quite hide the flicker of trepidation in her eyes.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.
She held up her chained hands, eyes glittering with defiance. The chain clinked together, swinging back and forth in an arc.
“You hold the key to my destiny. You decide if I live or die. I’d be a fool not to fear you.”
