Rahul found himself lying on his back, panting, and unable to stop Kamal's hands and lips from roaming his body even in places he didn't know could give him pleasure. He moaned and writhed trying to stop him. He begged but was silenced by the threat of having his mouth filled with the taste of Kamal's manhood if he didn't shut up.
He came in spite of himself, aroused by the touch of another man who obviously knew what he was doing. He lay panting, unable to look his lover in the eyes, then his anguish and shame choked him unconscious.
***
Rahul awoke upset. He could still hear Kamal's voice whispering in his ears, "You're so beautiful! Does your wife do this to you?", as he touched and kissed everywhere.
His hands were still locked in the manacles and collar, and he tried vainly to free himself. He got up to relieve himself, finding a pee-pot on the little balcony. Outside the sun was blinding but he felt so dark inside he feared he would never be the same again.
"You're up at last." Kamal's voice startled him.
The Lord of War wore a white caftan and waited by the table covered with food two servants had just brought in.
"Care to join me for a meal?" Kamal smiled. "You must be hungry."
Rahul had to admit he was starving. He went to the table and stared at the food, uncertain. There was only one stool by the table and Kamal didn't look as if he was going to untie him.
Kamal sat on the stool and pulled Rahul down on his lap. Rahul could feel the growing erection through the caftan's fabric but couldn't avoid being fed by his host. Kamal put food in his mouth with one hand, caressing his thigh and waist with the other, which made it hard for him to swallow. In the end he didn't eat much, far too worried by what was so obviously coming up.
"Drink," he whispered and Kamal gave him a goblet of water. Rahul downed it as if he was in the desert and when Kamal offered more food, he shook his head. "Enough."
Kamal pushed him to stand and led him to the bed. He roamed his backside this time, leaving him panting with tears running down his cheeks.
Kamal turned him around and took him in his arms. "Why are you crying? I gave you pleasure, didn't I?" he asked, serious, passing his fingers through Rahul's hair.
"Yes. No." Rahul sobbed once, then recovered his control. "Please, let me go," he begged. "Please, don't do this to me!"
Kamal frowned, caressing his chest. "Surrender, Rahul. You can enjoy this as much as I am."
"No!" he exploded. "I'm married! I love my wife! And I don't want you to touch me ever again!"
Kamal put his hand over Rahul's mouth, silencing him. "You're mine now." His tone was ominous.
Rahul shook his head under Kamal's hand, almost panicking.
And then it got worse. He knew Kamal was still aroused, that he hadn't come yet. He could see the growing bulge under the caftan.
Kamal opened Rahul's legs, lifted his hips and found his way inside him. He screamed in shock and pain, but Kamal swallowed his scream inside his mouth, sending his tongue down his throat, almost choking him.
Rahul's eyes were wide open, but suddenly he saw only darkness as warm liquid filled him and Kamal pumped his passion inside him.
"You're mine, my beautiful Rahul." A whisper, and the last thing Rahul heard before losing consciousness again.
***
His body was still sore when he woke up again. He had to endure another meal on Kamal's lap. He begged for mercy and was threatened again with having his mouth filled with something other than food. And Kamal kept touching him, giving him passionate kisses and sending shivers down his body. Pleasure, pain, shame, fear – and the damn collar that made him feel like a powerless slave.
Ashura joined them one day. "I'd love to taste him."
"Go ahead." Kamal smiled as Rahul stiffened in fear in his arms.
Kamal held him and stroked over one nipple with a flat tongue while Ashura crouched between his legs, grabbing his hips to reposition them.
Kamal's mouth caught Rahul's nipple with his teeth and pulled lightly, stretching, biting and taking Rahul's breath away while Ashura wrapped his lips around Rahul's manhood, teasing the silky head with his tongue.
Rahul moaned and tried to free himself from both men, but his hands were still locked close to his head and his dancer legs weren't enough to kick both away from him.
As the brothers worked his body to arouse him, he fervently prayed the gods would save him, gasping for breath. Ashura swallowed all his seed, wiping him clean, while Kamal swallowed his moans and caressed him to release.
"He tastes good," Ashura said as Rahul tried to catch his breath and Kamal stared at him with burning desire.
"I know," the elder said. "And he's so full. His wife must keep him at bay."
"She's pregnant," Rahul managed to say, still heaving.
"So? You will not touch her until she delivers?" Kamal raised his eyebrows, both curious and skeptical.
"No. It's not good... for the baby."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty-three."
"You can't be without sex for nine months at your age," Kamal chided. "But don't worry, we'll take care of it."
"It's not nine months and I don't need you to do anything." Rahul's breath was back to normal and he glared at Kamal. "Untie me and treat me as a hostage, not as your personal bed toy."
"I will not untie you until I can trust you," Kamal replied. "And if I considered you a bed toy, I'd have already filled your pretty mouth instead of bothering to giving you pleasure."
Rahul ground his teeth under Kamal's exploring fingers.
"In fact maybe I should give you your final lesson," Kamal continued, frowning. "I'd hate to break you, but you give me no choice."
"Leave me alone!" Rahul screamed and used his head like a ram. He hit Kamal's face with fury, but Ashura was quick to pin him to the bed again.
Kamal cleaned the blood flowing from his nose and looked Rahul in the eyes. "You're mine," he said. He grabbed Rahul's chin and forced his mouth open.
They used a strange instrument to block his jaws wide open. Then Kamal filled his mouth and Ahsura got his back. As both men pumped inside him, Rahul slowly lost his grip on reality. When warm liquid flooded him, his voice deserted him.
***
Tarun reached Leland with his escort of Royal Guard, but only Hiroyuki followed him inside the governor's palace. Tarun was received by the Lords of War he hadn't met on the battlefield, so he was seeing them for the first time.
Inside the palace none of them covered their face – probably more a protection from the desert heat than a need to hide their features – and they all wore mostly white clothes.
Tarun bowed to his new overlord before speaking. "I would like to see my brother."
"What for?" The foreign leader sitting on the throne looked puzzled by his request.
"I have good news for him. His wife gave birth to a baby boy. Besides, he's been with you for six months and hasn't replied to any of my letters. I miss him and would like to talk to him."
The man scoffed and glanced at his right arm. They spoke quickly in a language Tarun couldn't fathom. He was quite proficient in the northern dialect Rahul had learned from his mother, but this language sounded very foreign. He wondered where the two men came from.
The bearded one looked worried, but the leader shrugged and looked back at Tarun. "Come. Alone."
Tarun signaled Hiroyuki to wait for him and followed the leader to the first floor of the palace, where lodgings followed one another in no specific order. The invaders had obviously picked the rooms they fancied most and some had been left empty.
Tarun reached the last room of the corridor, the more protected of the series, and was allowed in a bedroom with a small balcony.
On the bed lay naked Rahul, his head turned to stare outside of the window. He looked pale and haunted, had lost weight and the lack of clothes couldn't be the only reason for lying in bed without doing anything – very uncharacteristic of his full of life half-brother,
who was always singing, dancing, organizing mock duels or quietly reading in the palace library. There were no scrolls or parchments around the bedroom – and Tarun knew there must be some left in town if his half-brother wished to read – so he obviously wasn't reading nor writing either. And there were no musical instruments either, and music was another big part of Rahul's life.
But there he was, lying in a scarcely furnished room, doing nothing. Hostage life couldn't have been that bad.
"There's a visit for you," the Lord of War said. Both he and Tarun had stopped by the door and an extended arm blocking him had prevented Tarun from rushing to his brother's side.
Worry rose inside Tarun as Rahul slowly turned his head and focused on him. Tarun smiled and waved from where he was standing, but Rahul didn't react. His smile didn't show up.
Tarun glanced at the foreign man by his side, then looked at Rahul again. "I came to tell you that Anjali has given birth to a beautiful baby boy!" He tried to sound cheerful, but his heart grew heavier by the moment. "She sends her love, of course, and so does Father. We miss you very much."
Rahul's lips barely twitched. His gray-blue eyes (like his mother's, the foreign dancer from the north) kept staring at Tarun, but no sound came out of his mouth.
"Are you all right?" Tarun asked, unable to keep his worry at bay.
Rahul gulped, averted his eyes and nodded. Averting his eyes. He was lying. He had always been a bad liar, he couldn't look you in the eyes if he wasn't telling the truth.
"Rahul." Tarun stepped forward, but the Lord of War blocked him and shook his head. "May I?"
"No. You don't go near him."
Tarun saw Rahul scoff and glance at his captor. Then he shooed them away and turned his back on them.
"Let's go."
Tarun followed the man back to the great hall, shocked. It was too late to head back for Argantael, so he was allowed to sleep at the palace. Dinner was a banquet in the great hall, but Rahul didn't show up and the war-band leader retired early.
Still puzzled by what he had seen, Tarun headed back home. His father and Anjali were eagerly waiting for his return, but he wasn't sure about what he could tell them. His own wife had to wait outside as he paced his father's private cabinet while Anjali sat in a corner and Kumar himself stood staring at him.
Eventually Tarun blurted out what he had seen, unable to give a name to Rahul's obvious sickness. He described the strange palace that looked half lived-in and half abandoned, the strange court with no women, the strange banquet the hostage didn't attend, then stared at his father, unable to draw his own conclusions on the matter.
Kumar was very pale and had to lean on the wall when Tarun shut up. "I should have let them kill him, and then slaughtered them all," he whispered.
"Father!" Tarun protested. Although, if his father thought Rahul would have been better off dead, things must be much worse than what he thought.
"They're using him, Tarun." Anger shook Kumar's voice. "No, they're abusing him. We should demand his release or march on them and destroy them!"
"I saw no bruises or traces of blood on him, Father."
Kumar smiled ruefully. "You bleed only the first time."
"What? Father, what are you talking about?"
Kumar sighed. "I'm so glad you were spared all this. I think we can mourn Rahul and exact our revenge."
"Maybe I could go there." Anjali rose and stepped forward. "My place is by my husband's side. I will leave the baby with the wet-nurse and join Rahul in his captivity."
"Are you crazy?" Tarun protested. "What if they hurt you or..."
"She's safer than you ever will in that palace," Kumar replied sharply. He stared at Anjali who had stopped by his side. "And yes, you might be able to help him. But if you see he's beyond the point of no return, come back, and I will avenge him."
She nodded with a smile.
Tarun wasn't convinced it was a good idea, but if his father said so... as long as they could help Rahul to go back to his former self, anything should be tried.
***
Anjali left for Leland alone, in a howdah on Maya, Kumar's own elephant friend. After thirty years the animal was tamed enough to carry a howdah and knew very well the way to Leland, so Anjali needed no guide or mahout to reach her destination.
The Lord of War looked surprised to see her, and frowned when she told him she was Rahul's wife.
"My place is by his side," she said, gentle and determined at the same time. "Please allow me to join him in his captivity."
"You are as beautiful as he is," The man's voice was gloomy. "General Kumar must be very proud of you as a couple."
"He is," she smiled. "Rahul is his favorite son. He requests you allow me to take care of my husband, or he might break the peace treaty."
The Lord of War scoffed. "He'll break it anyway," he grumbled.
"No, not if you allow me to stay."
He glared at her. "Fine." He averted his eyes and rose from his throne. "Come with me."
Anjali answered with her brightest smile.
"Do you have a name?" she asked as they went up the stairs to the lodgings.
"Kamal," was the sharp reply. He didn't even turn to look at her.
Like he had done with Tarun, he stopped by the door with her. "Rahul, visitor."
Rahul was exactly like Tarun had pictured him, and, in Anjali's eyes, his movements looked even slower than what Tarun had said. His reaction was slightly different when he focused on her, though. His eyes widened in disbelief and a gasp escaped his lips.
Anjali looked at Kamal who nodded his permission. She rushed to the bed, climbing on it, but Rahul slid away, as if he didn't want to be touched, his eyes now filled with terror. His mouth opened, but no sound came out. She extended a hand to caress him, but he slapped it away, panting in sudden panic.
Anjali's smile slowly faded away. She lay next to him and waited as he slowly calmed down. They stared at each other in silence. She could see the haunted look that had worried Tarun and she thought her father-in-law was probably right: Rahul had been abused by the Lords of War.
She waited some more, not daring to touch him until he made a move towards her. Time seemed still, but slowly he moved closer again, as if he was gaining confidence. Eventually he touched her cheek and her breast, and she smiled encouragingly. He curled up against her, burying his face in her cleavage, but didn't try to slide his hands under her clothes like he had used to do, so she waited some more.
He had lost weight, she noticed as her fingers brushed his naked torso. She felt him slowly relax in her arms. His shivers ceased and she realized he had fallen asleep. She sighed.
***
Rahul slowly became aware of his human pillow. It didn't feel like Kamal's chest, more like... Anjali? His hand tentatively moved, squeezing slightly the mound that felt like a woman's breast. Yes, Anjali. He remembered seeing her next to Kamal. So he hadn't dreamed and she was real.
He slowly opened his eyes. It was still dark, although dawn must be close, but he could still make out the room – his prison for the last uncounted days. He had lost track of time between Kamal's caresses and punishments, force-fed when he refused to eat, kept alive for the pleasure of the Lord of War – not his, never his, no matter what Kamal said about it.
His body shivered as Kamal's voice whispered in his ear and Kamal's hands seemed to touch him all over again. They had freed his neck and wrists from the uncomfortable, unusual collar, but sometimes he could still feel it. He ground his teeth as a hand touched his. He was probably squeezing Anjali's breast too hard and she gently peeled off his fingers.
He remembered he was with her and raised his head to look at her face. She smiled, caressing his cheek, more beautiful than what he could remember. Why was she here? Was he still dreaming? Her touch seemed real... he had to taste her again.
He kissed her as his hands explored her body. She was fully dressed and he was of course totally naked. Kamal had told him he shouldn't bother with cloth
es as the view of his naked body pleased his master.
Breathless, he waited until she got rid of the clothing and then eagerly embraced her. He had missed her, her body, her tenderness.
The sun rose, sending light through the open window as he made love to his wife, oblivious of where he was. Her moans of pleasure were music to his ears and he slowly smiled again as he shivered inside her.
He saw her smile vanish as she looked beyond him. She didn't have time to utter a warning. Rahul realized that Kamal was behind him, probably had always been in the room with them, and was now ready to do what he always did.
A strangled sound came out of his mouth as his arms gave way and he collapsed on Anjali's body. It was Kamal's rhythm they were now following.
Rahul blanked out without a moan.
***
"Get off of us!" Anjali screamed, panicking. "You're killing him!"
Kamal pulled away and she managed to push her husband's dead weight off to her side on the bed. His heaving chest made him look delirious, but he had no fever. She called him, shaking him, but his eyes didn't open.
She looked at Kamal, tears running down her cheeks. "What have you done?"
He was staring at Rahul's face and she couldn't read his expression.
He got off the bed and picked up his caftan. "Take him away," he ordered, slipping on his cloth and storming out of the room without turning back.
Anjali started sobbing on Rahul's chest, now almost still. She had managed to free him, but at what price? Would he ever recover from the last assault? She prayed fervently Rajendra would be his cure.
***
"Why did you let them go?" Ashura demanded in his mother tongue. He was alone with Kamal who was looking out of his window, brooding.
"He was broken," Kamal answered flatly. "Maybe he'll recover if she has her way."
"Or maybe your lust will bring us war!" Ashura snapped.
"We're warriors," Kamal reminded him. "Maybe we should have stuck to this ugly town."
"Did you really have to abuse the hostage?" Ashura complained.
Kamal shrugged. "Don't worry. I'll take the blame. There will be no war."
"Oh, Goddess, it's not lust, it's love." Ashura looked disappointed.
Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition) Page 19