by Kyra Alessy
She walked until it was too dark to go any further. She went on as long as she could, but when she began bumping into things in the twilight she gave up and sat at the base of a large tree, wrapping her arms around herself. She had to sleep. She had to keep her strength up. She could get to the cloister tomorrow if she pushed herself.
There were animals out there. Large ones, or at least that’s what they sounded like. Her heart thudded in her chest. What if she was near an open portal and some monster came through the breach? Even she had heard the whispers about more and more of those dark creatures appearing where they shouldn’t be.
Inwardly she swore and forced the thoughts away. Stop terrifying yourself! But the damage was done. She only slept in fits and starts for the rest of the night, the animals always waking her before too long. Sometimes they were so close she could hear them breathing. She huddled into a ball, praying that she’d survive the night.
When the dawn broke, she was tired and frazzled but there was nothing to do but continue. She came across a small stream and drank thirstily, bathing her sore feet in the water. But she didn’t tarry. She kept moving throughout the day, resting only when she really had to and drinking whenever she found a spring. By mid-afternoon the forest gave way to fields. Though she was exhausted, she knew she was close and pressed on with all the strength she had left.
As the evening descended, the black wooden outer buildings came into view and she almost cried with relief. She was back and she was in time! She neared the outer gate. The torches hadn’t been lit yet and she was in the shadows. She took a deep breath to call to the sentry, but there was suddenly a hand over her mouth and an arm around her middle, dragging her off her feet. No! She struggled, kicking and scratching, trying to bite the fingers over her lips. She finally got a lucky blow in, her nails gouging flesh, and she heard the man swear quietly in pain, but he didn’t let her go and she was dragged off the path and into a copse.
‘Did you steal from us as well as run, you little fucking thief?’
He didn’t let her answer as he threw her down and was on her in an instant, tying her hands and feet together. She was gagged and blindfolded and thrown over a horse before she’d even seen who had caught her, but she knew that voice. Still she struggled, tears soaking the cloth over her eyes, until he gave her a hard, stinging smack on her rump.
If anything, that renewed the fight in her. She bucked, kicking and pushing with her hands until she fell off the horse and lay winded in the dirt. She heard him mutter something and then he was there, pulling her up and then pushing her down over a log. Her skirts were pulled up and her smallclothes ripped away. She screamed behind the gag and tried to get to her feet, but he simply grabbed her hair tightly and pulled her head down, easily and effectively pinning her to the ground. Then she felt it on her bare cheeks. Not his hand, something else. It left her skin and she heard it whistle through the air before cracking upon her flesh. She screamed in pain. Another came and then another and another. She lost track of how many times she was struck. The screams died and her streaming eyes slipped shut as she wished for it to be over.
As suddenly as they’d begun, the blows ceased. He threw the switch into the forest, pulled her dress down and slung her back over the horse, the fight beaten out of her.
When she woke, she was by the base of a tree on her side. She could hear the crackle of a fire, but her eyes were covered. She tried to move and found that her arms and legs were tied together behind her as well. Her arse was so painful that she couldn’t even twitch without it hurting. She moaned behind the gag, and the blindfold was ripped off. As soon as she saw the sun casting afternoon shadows, she rested her head on the ground and began to sob. It was too late, she’d been unconscious all night and most of the day. The moons were no longer aligned. The priesthood was forever closed to her now. She’d been so close, but she had failed.
Through her tears she could see the smirking face of the one who had done this terrible thing. Lucian.
He let her cry. He didn’t speak to her or move her. He simply busied himself with various tasks until she was silent and there were no more tears left in her to fall.
‘They couldn’t have helped you, you know.’
‘Who?’ she asked listlessly, staring up at the trees overhead.
‘The priests. The gods. Whoever you thought was going to save you. They wouldn’t have. They’d have given you straight back to us, runaway.’
‘That was my home, you fool.’
‘I think you mean to say, “That was my home, my lord.”’
Kora turned to look at him and scoffed. ‘No. I don’t. That was my home, and because of you I can never go back.’
‘You were a house slave in a cloister?’ He guffawed. ‘Gods, what a waste! You should be thanking me. How dull!’
‘Thanking you? I could have been safe. Now I’m your house slave.’ She looked away. ‘And you’re going to give me to your Brother when we get back to the keep, aren’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘If he wants you, why shouldn’t I?’
How could he not see anything wrong? ‘Because I’m unwilling,’ she said slowly as if talking to a child.
‘At first, perhaps, but he’ll have you squealing his name in pleasure soon enough.’
‘You’re vile,’ she spat.
He closed the distance between them in two strides. He turned her roughly onto her front and she screamed loudly as he pulled up her skirts, baring her arse once more. ‘And you need to control that mouth of yours, slave, or you’ll get another whipping.’
‘I don’t care what you do, Lucian,’ she taunted. ‘I hope you kill me.’
He tutted but thankfully didn’t strike her anew. ‘Such an indomitable spirit, Kora. But we’ll see how quickly your resolve crumbles once your real punishment begins.’
She closed her eyes and ignored him, feigning courage. Inside, she quaked. What was her punishment going to be? Would he tie her to that X in the yard and flay her as he’d threatened upon her arrival at the keep?
‘I only ran. I didn’t steal anything except perhaps the clothes on my back,’ she said in a small voice.
He didn’t answer.
That night, bound as she was, it was almost impossible to sleep even though she was worn out. She would have tossed and turned if moving wasn’t so painful. As it was, she could balance on her side, but every time she dropped off, she’d fall onto her front, the soft moss of the forest doing little to ease her aches. By the time the moon was high, she was in abject misery. Her backside throbbed, her arms and legs were either numb or cramping, and she was tired. Gods, she was so tired!
She heard Lucian swear. He was Lucian even in her thoughts now. She would not call him lord and master and she would refuse the other two such titles as well. She might be their slave, but she wasn’t going to just roll over like a dog and submit.
‘Can you not be silent, woman? I cannot get a moment’s rest!’ he complained from the other side of the fire.
She didn’t give voice to the retort on her lips. She knew now that she could take a beating, and it gave her a strange sense of relief that she no longer had to dread the first of what would probably be many, but she also didn’t want one again so soon. Instead she closed her eyes, rested her head on the ground and tried to ignore the discomfort. Until she fell onto her front again with an undignified sound.
With a growl he jumped to his feet. ‘By the gods, stop your whimpering or I’ll give you something to whimper about!’
‘I’m not whimpering!’ she snapped.
He turned her back onto her side and, though she tried, she couldn’t quite hide the wince when her bound foot rubbed against the welts that crisscrossed her arse and thighs. He made a sound and shook his head, leaving her to open one of his saddlebags. He produced a pot similar to the one Mace had had and returned to her. He cut the rope linking her hands to her feet and her limbs fell to the ground. She groaned as she was finally able to stretch her back and legs.
>
‘Thank you,’ she said to her brutal captor, ignoring for now that he was the source of her body’s distress.
She felt him lift her skirts and tensed. She didn’t have the strength left in her to struggle.
But instead of more lashes, he began to slowly rub cooling salve over the welts he’d given her. His fingers moved in small circles, his gentle touch drawing a small cry from deep inside her chest. At that moment the coolness of the balm and the warmth of his fingers was the most wonderful thing she’d ever imagined, and she found herself relaxing under his ministrations, forgetting that he was her enemy. Round and round his hands drew over the orbs of her backside, covering all of the stinging welts he’d made. The throbbing disappeared almost immediately and his delicate movements lulled her into a daze as they continued on and on.
So relaxed was she that at first she didn’t realise that his fingers had begun making their way slowly down the cleft of her cheeks and drifting between her legs. She moaned as his hand brushed her core, her legs inadvertently opening very slightly. His fingers dipped into her gently – shallowly – before moving towards something she was aching for him to touch, though she didn’t know why. The gentle scrape of a calloused finger on that part of her made her arch up with a bewildered cry. His fingers disappeared.
She lay on the ground, her eyes closed and her breathing quick, feeling confused and wondering why he had stopped. Then she heard him chuckle viciously and her body froze.
‘As I said, you won’t be reluctant for long.’
She could almost see that smug, nasty grin of his. Her brow furrowed. He’d touched her like that to prove a point?
With a growl, she drew her knees up in front of her and managed to cover herself. She didn’t look at him, didn’t open her eyes in case he saw her unshed tears. He’d humiliated her enough, and she would give him no more fodder for his cruelty.
She ignored him as he tied her with a short rope to a stake in the ground so she couldn’t move far. Then she heard the tell-tale rustle of him leaving the camp. Where he could be going this late at night she didn’t know, nor did she care. She hoped one of the beasts got him, but she knew she wouldn’t be so lucky.
She cracked her eyes just a fraction to make sure he wasn’t there and, finding herself alone as she’d suspected, let her tears fall. She cried as quietly as she could, but she couldn’t help a few sobs that burst out. What was going to happen to her when they reached the keep? What if Lucian was right? Would it be so easy for his Brother to turn her body against her as Lucian had just done? Would her cries of fear and misery turn into ones of pleasure? And if they did, what did that mean? Her father had always told her she was weak of character, that she would indulge in all manner of vices if he allowed it – which were his reasons for being so strict he’d said many times. If she took any pleasure from her hateful captors, did that make him right?
LUCIAN
Lucian watched from just inside the trees where she couldn’t see him, the hand that had been on her clenched at his side. He knew she wouldn’t like him touching her; knew she’d hate it more than the beating he’d given her He’d meant to punish her with his attentions while also ensuring that he got some sleep, but he hadn’t counted on how her body would feel under his hand, her soft sighs and her moans as he’d fondled her sex. Gods, he’d barely touched her, but how she’d opened for him, moved against him. Had she realised she’d done that? He wasn’t sure.
And now she cried. He’d made certain of that. Oh, she was trying to hide it, but he heard a little hiccupping whimper every once in a while. He found he wanted to do something; comfort her. He was surprised that he cared. He could count the number of people he gave a shit about on one hand and two of them were his Brothers. He suspected that was only because of the nature of the bond they shared as a unit. He’d killed and maimed and done the things they did without worry or conscience. But now, looking at her, he felt different this time. Guilty.
He trampled the feeling down without mercy, reminding himself that she was no one to him. She was not one of his Brothers. She was a runaway. She was a thief. She’d been a bad enough slave to have been cast from her home. What was happening to her was of her own making and she was his – theirs – to punish however they saw fit. That was how fate worked and the gods needed balance. That’s what the uptight priests said anyway.
He walked quietly back to the fire and lay in his blankets, vowing that she’d never take anything from them. Finally, the wench was blessedly silent. Perhaps he would actually be able to get some rest before dawn.
Chapter 5
They arrived at the keep before midmorning the next day, having broken camp before sunrise. Lucian had offered her water but nothing more. Her tummy growled and her body ached as she walked behind his horse under the stone arch and through the open portcullis once again. The soldier on guard was the one she’d tricked. When he noticed her, his air of malice made her shiver. He would not forgive her actions. When he threateningly drew his thumb across his throat from ear to ear, she edged closer to Lucian’s horse and turned away.
The courtyard was as busy as before; everyone was doing a job, but this time no one paid her any mind except one or two of the men commenting that Lucian had caught her quickly.
‘Of course I did,’ he shrugged, chuckling without even a bit of humility. ‘Where could the slave have hidden that I couldn’t find her?’
He jumped from his horse and, not bothering to untie her, took the rope and pulled her across the yard towards the X where he’d promised she would be punished when she first came here. As they neared it, she swallowed hard, her stomach leaden, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of crying or begging him not to whip her. She was not weak. The pain would be awful, but he wouldn’t kill her – at least she didn’t think he would; not after going to the trouble of running her down and carting her back here.
At the last moment, he veered towards the main door of the keep and she sighed in relief. He’d done that on purpose to scare her, she was sure. He walked up the steps, pulling the rope sharply to make her stumble. When she did, he laughed at her and told her to pick up her feet. He led her to the kitchen. Davas was there, making the afternoon meal. He looked up as they appeared.
‘You found her, then.’
Lucian raised a brow. ‘Were you in doubt?’
Davas’s lip twitched. ‘Of course not.’
Lucian pulled her forward and deftly cut the ropes from her, leaving her rubbing the raw skin of her wrists as he turned away. Davas had gone back to his work, but he watched from the corner of his eye, she noticed.
‘Come here, Kora,’ said Lucian.
Looking him in the eye, letting him see her hatred, she did as she was told, observing that he now held two sets of iron manacles. Before she could protest, he locked them around her wrists and, stooping down, did the same to her ankles.
‘What are you doing?’ she cried, outraged.
He ignored her, instead speaking to Davas as if she wasn’t even there. ‘Mace gave you your orders?’
Davas’s gaze flicked to her and then back to Lucian. ‘Aye, but …’
‘But what?’ Lucian sounded impatient.
No doubt the sot wanted to get back to his wine barrels, Kora thought spitefully as she tested the manacles. The ones around her arms would be an annoyance, but she thought she’d still be able to perform everyday tasks. The ones around her ankles were cumbersome, though. She could just about walk if she took little steps. They were much too short for running, which, she supposed, must be the point. She muttered a curse. There would be no more escape attempts until she could get them off.
Davas spoke quietly. ‘Some of the tasks. They’d be difficult even for a grown man. They take strength and resilience.’ He looked back at her slight form, frowning.
‘Then the slave should not have run,’ Lucian said simply. Raising his voice, he made sure she heard his next words. ‘What was said before still stands. If she cannot do the
work given her, let her earn her keep with the men.’
Then Lucian was gone, leaving her and Davas alone. Davas sighed, running a hand over his eyes. ‘You shouldn’t have run, lass.’
He sounded so disappointed in her that she had to look away. ‘I had to try,’ she said softly.
‘How are your feet?’
She fought a wince. She’d almost forgotten them. ‘They’re fine.’
Davas shook his head. ‘Sit down.’ He brought a bowl to the table. ‘Eat. Gods know you’re going to need your strength, girl.’ He picked up her feet and placed them on his knee, tutting and exclaiming softly at the state of them.
‘Why are you being so nice to me?’ she asked him in a small voice as she ate.
He hesitated. ‘I’ve been with the Brothers for a long time. They’re mercenaries through and through. I’ve seen them do bad things, good things, difficult things if the money was right. The Army breeds strength and loyalty in its ranks. Brothers must be ruthless and brutal. Their judgements are often fair, but harsh.’ He hesitated before he spoke next. ‘You remember when you first came here, the man who was whipped on the X?’
‘Yes. The thief.’
‘Not a thief. Lucian just wanted to scare you. That man was one of us, but he had a weakness for young boys and Lucian caught him.’
Kora gasped. ‘That’s awful. Where is the man now?’
‘Lucian slit his throat later that night. I can’t say he was in the wrong. Can you?’
‘No.’
‘Fair, you see? But for someone who has never known this life … They said you were a house slave before.’
Kora nodded uncertainly.
‘A coddled slave would be shocked enough. But that isn’t true, is it?’ Davas looked at the door and lowered his voice. ‘You weren’t a slave before, were you?’
