Chapter Fourteen
Zera looked in the mirror one last time. The High Lord’s slaves had come as promised. They had repeated the same rituals that were performed on her the day she arrived. Thankfully, this time she did not need to be held. She stood there, letting them work as her mind drifted. They had piled her hair on top of her head, curls cascading down her back. A gold chain circled her head and looped down from one ear, under her chin and up the other. The garments they brought her were a different material than anyone else in the complex wore. The first layer was a maroon scarf and tied identical to that of a new slave, covering her breasts and again wrapped around her waist. Then a gold see through shift was placed over this and a gold chain wrapped around her waist. She had never seen anyone dressed like this and did not know what to think.
She turned and walked into the bedroom. Roj stood looking into the fire, his cloak around his shoulders, waiting for her. He turned and his normal calm demeanor turned to shock. He did not speak for a minute. “Beautiful,” he said as she smiled. Roj stepped forward and took her arm. “It is time that we go.”
He pulled his hood up, and they exited the room and slowly walked towards the banquet hall. Words were not spoken, and Zera did not understand why it felt like goodbye. They reached the large doors, and Roj stopped her. He looked long into her eyes and gently kissed her cheek. The doors opened, and they walked into the banquet hall. All eyes turned towards them as the hall fell silent. Roj led her to the table where the High Lord sat. To his right his advisor sat and another Lord. To his left were two empty chairs. Roj led her to the chair next to the High Lord and then sat in the other chair.
“Zera,” rumbled the High lord. She nodded her head. “Oh, that won’t do my dear. For tonight, you may speak to me”
“Your honor,” she said quietly, “may I serve you?” He nodded, and she poured mead into his glass. Zera brought it to her lips and took a sip before setting it down next to him. She then took meat from the platter and set it on his plate, first taking a bite herself. She repeated this with each dish.
“Lord, you have trained her well. Once again your expertise proves itself.”
Roj nodded. “Thank you, Your Honor. It was my pleasure. I believe she is ready.”
“Yes, I agree, but not for what you think.” He pulled a purse from his cloak. “Ten draughts.”
Roj sucked a breath in. That was ten years of service he was being paid for. No woman had ever gone for auction that high. No Lord had that many draughts to waste. “Thank you, Your Honor. You are too generous.”
With a smile the High Lord turned to Zera. “She will be perfect.” He stood and addressed those gathered. “Tonight, instead of the planned auction, we will have another festivity. Please honor me as I have accepted the new High Lady. He pulled Zera to a stand and escorted her from around the table to stand in front of those gathered. He pulled her to him and kissed her. She tentatively responded, not knowing what to expect from this change. A thrill ran through her as she realized this was much better than anything she had planned. She would have access to the High Lord and hopefully all his information. Maybe escape was possible. The High Lord took her arm and led her from the room, accompanied by the stomping of the people.
They walked in silence to the wing that the High Lord occupied. Unlike the other Lords he had a grand hall that opened into many rooms. To the right was a sitting room with fireplace and chairs. To the left a intimate dining space. Further down the hall was a set of doors on either side and a final set at the end of the hall. “Welcome home” he rumbled and removed his cloak. Zera gasped. Before her stood Professor Esson.
“Yes, my dear. I am the High Lord, and you are now mine. I wanted you the minute I saw you at that conference. I knew it was providence when you showed up here asking questions. I tried to steer you away, but your curiosity landed you in my lap.”
Zera looked at him in shock. She never would have thought that the High Lord and Professor were the same person. Now, the only person who knew where she and Gris were, was their captor. A smile came over the High Lord’s face, “Yes I am the only one who knew you were here. No one is looking for you.” He continued down the hall, his hand on her arm. “This is my room,” he said pointing to the left “and yours are to the right.” He opened the door and led her into the room. A large bed was along one wall, a fireplace next to it. Opposite the bed was a small table and chair and a doorway leading into the bathroom. “My rooms are off limits. You will have a servant who has a room off the bathroom. She is yours to command but remember any punishment you earn she will earn as well. You will also have a guard at all times. One will be stationed outside the apartment. If you wish to leave, he leaves with you.” She nodded her head. “Do you understand? You may be the High Lady now, but you are no more than you were this morning.” She nodded. He gently slapped her face. “I gave you permission to talk. In this room alone, you may speak when spoken to, but only to me.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Zera replied quietly, eyes downcast. Her new role left her unbalanced. Yes, it was her ultimate goal, but now that she had stepped into it, she was finding it was not as it seemed. High Lord Esson looked at her.
“You know I admired your beauty before, knowing you are mine, makes you no less beautiful.” He trailed a finger down her arm. He took a step back and looked at her. The gold fabric shimmered in the low light, and lust filled his eyes. He walked towards her and pushed her back towards the bed. “This outfit suits you. Yes, while in these rooms you shall wear this.” He leaned over her and trailed a finger down her cheek and kissed her. “I have some things I must deal with. I will send your servant to you.” She looked at him a question in her eyes. “Yes, Zera?”
“Your High Lord, what am I to do while I am here? Do I continue with the chores I had? Lady Aeone will be waiting for her breakfast in the morning.”
“My Mate shall not serve!” he screamed and wrenched her arm. “My mate shall serve me alone. My needs are all you need to meet.” Spittle flew as rage took over the High Lord. Before Zera knew what was happening, she was laying on her stomach, and the thin leather cord all men carried was ripping the thin sheer cloth from her body. She arched her back, yet made not a noise as tears rolled down her face.
Once the High Lord’s rage was spent, he bent and kissed the red lines that crossed her back, “Look what you have made me do.” He reached into the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a jar of ointment. Gently, he removed the shredded garments and ran an ointment-covered finger down each line, kissing it as he went. His hands slowly roamed her back. “Look what you do to me,” he laid hot kisses over her back. She retreated into her mind, not letting him touch that part of her which she had held onto all these months, the smell of peppermint and maple syrup a comforting blanket around her.
Chapter Fifteen
Zera opened her eyes. Her body was sore, reminding her of the events of last night. She looked around the room and saw a young girl standing in the corner. Her red hair was pulled back and her green eyes were dull, as if she knew that life would never be more than standing and waiting for the next abuse. The white sheath showed that this servant (she refused to call them slaves) was not under any Lord’s protection.
Zera sat up and indicated that the girl should come forward. Trembling, the girl obeyed, bringing a mug of mead with her. Zera reached out, and the girl jostled mead onto the bed. She jerked back as if expecting to be hit. Zera gently touched her hand and shook her head, indicating that she would not hurt her. The girl wilted in relief, then quickly stood as the door opened. “Ah, I see you have met Adda. Does she please you?” Zera started to nod, but a raised eyebrow had her quickly saying “Yes, your High Lord. Would you tell me of her?”
He nodded his approval and stood next to Adda. “She was the daughter of one of the slave women and a guard. Their services were no longer needed shortly after she was born. She has been raised in the kitchens and has slowly been working her way to serve. She is young, and I th
ought that she could be molded more easily than a slave who has picked up some bad habits. Plus, I know your tender heart would hate to see such innocence destroyed,” the last said with a smirk. In other words, he knew she would not step out, afraid of him hurting the young girl. “Would you like for her to have a maroon scarf?”
“Yes, High Lord. Thank you for such a generous gift.” He took a maroon scarf and wrapped it around Adda’s waist. “Her life is forever tied to yours, Zera.” He came to the bed and sat down. Running his hand along her arm, he laced his fingers in hers. “I’m sorry that I had to punish you so last night. You must watch what you say lest I have to rescind the privilege to speak. This is why slaves and guards do not speak. They do not have the ability to control their words. But I know that you can.
“Go clean yourself and dress. I want to show you something.” He kissed her again and left. Zera looked at Adda and stood. Adda blushed at Zera being naked and turned her eyes away. Zera walked to the bathroom, Adda following behind her. She stepped into the pool of water, a soft sigh escaping her. Looking at Adda she pointed to the shelf that was in every bathroom. Adda silently brought over the jars of soap and lotions. Zera lay back and let Adda clean her hair. When Adda tapped her shoulder, Zera stood and stepped out of the tub. She stood waiting for Adda to finish drying her, knowing if the High Lord were to walk in and see her doing what Adda should, they would both suffer. Finally, Zera was dry. She then sat on the stool allowing Adda to put her hair up, she then brought over a gown and shook it out. She held it up for Zera to step into. She pulled it up over Zera’s hip, and up over the one shoulder. Zera looked down.
She wore a maroon dress that draped from her left shoulder down over her breasts and around her back and then around her hips. Sewn to it was a tight skirt that went to the floor, a slit ended at her hip where the two pieces met, allowing her to walk. While being more than she wore the night before, it left just as little to the imagination. She walked back to her room and sat quietly in the chair waiting for the High Lord.
She didn’t have long to wait. He came in. “Where is your hair ornament that you had last night? You must wear that any time you leave this room.”
“I’m sorry, High Lord. I did not know.” She quickly went to the bathroom and put the ornament in her hair. She returned to the room and smiled at the High Lord.
“Perfect,” he said and took her hand. Gently, he led her out of the room and turned to the doors at the end of the grand hall. With a flourish, he opened them, and Zera squinted at the bright light. As her eyes adjusted she saw a beautiful garden in front of her. Small trees and flower beds were spread out over a large space. Pathways led through the grassy expanse with a small stream running through the field. Zera gasped at the beauty.
“This is a special place, only my personal staff have seen it. The gardener lives here and never leaves. He does not speak or see anyone. His food is delivered to his door, no one knows this exists. The only entrance and exit is through our apartment, and the gardener’s door, which is guarded at all times. You may come here whenever you want, but know that you shall not be able to escape.” Zera nodded her understanding.
He pulled her further into the garden and when he found the small willow, with its branches touching the ground, he parted them and pulled her in behind him. “This is my favorite spot. As a boy I would come here to hide from my father, I did not want to study our texts or our ways. I wanted to be with the other Lord’s children, but I was not allowed to. My place was beside the High Lord, learning from his example. The tutor that taught all the children, would smuggle history books to me. I would read them over and over, hiding them under the bed. One day my father caught me reading. He brought the tutor before me and demanded the tutor to explain. The tutor told my father that I had asked for the books. My father turned his gaze on me, contempt evident. If I had been reading our sacred texts, he would have been proud. But history books, those of the outside world were never allowed. My father handed me the cat o’ nine tails, and pointed at the tutor. I cried as I flung the whip over and over and over. When I could lift my arm no more, my father took the whip and told me to look at my tutor. He lay on the floor, unconscious. His back shredded to ribbons. My father looked at me, and I will never forget what he said, “Thurston, it is harder to punish than be punished. If a punishment does not hurt you, then it is not a punishment but simply violence.” I was eleven years old.”
Zera put her hand on his leg, offering comfort. Thurston put his hand on top of hers. “I tell you this to know that your punishments hurt me more than you will ever know.” The sympathy Zera had felt started to wither. “One day that lesson will be taught to our son.” Zera looked at him in shock. She hadn’t thought of children, having not seen any. “Speak.”
Zera chose her words carefully. “I have never seen children here. I had not thought of them.”
Leaning in to kiss her, Thurston smiled. “Children are rare with us. Slaves and guards are not allowed children unless certain requirements are met. Occasionally it happens, as in Adda’s case. The parents are punished, and the child is raised as best they can be. We have around 50 slaves and guards here, none of which will ever leave the compound.
Then the Vassals are the next in line. Each vassal, 20 or so in total, are aligned to one of the ten Lords. The vassals may buy a unclaimed slave. If the slave and the vassal have met all the requirements, then they may have a child. Each family is limited to two children so that our numbers do not increase too much. Vassals may leave for their jobs on the outside, but come back at night. They are the ones who don’t fit into society but they fit here.
Finally, we have the ten Lords. Each lord is allowed to have children with his chosen mate. Mates are chosen selectively, and I approve them. The women are the most beautiful, intelligent of us and normally born to a Lord. Occasionally a slave will be raised to the position of lady if her DNA matches that of our founders. Upon a lord’s death his title passes to his oldest son. If there is no son, then a new Lord is chosen from the minor sons of the other Lords.”
Zera tried to process everything she had heard. “What are the requirements to have a child? And how do you prevent it from happening?”
“One of the parents must be magical and one must be at least half true. When anyone in the community reaches a certain age, they are branded. The brand has a powder sprinkled on it. The powder for women removes the ability to speak as well as to carry children, unless they are the offspring of a Lord, who then do not receive the powder. If a woman is selected and deemed worthy to carry children an antidote can be given. The powder for men removes their ability to speak.
“I have never seen magic here” Zera said, thinking of her own magic that had just started to emerge shortly before her capture.
He smiled. “Have you noticed that everyone except the Lords wear a gold braided collar?” She nodded. “Those collars can only be removed with a key that I have. They prevent the wearer from being able to access their magic.”
Zera wisely chose to ask only one more question. “My lord, I have been branded. How will we be able to have a child?”
A smile covered his face and he kissed her passionately, “The remedy was already given to you the night I took you as my own.” He pushed her down and looked into her eyes searching for a answer. “Will you be happy about a child?”
Zera smiled up at him and touched his face, “your child would make me very happy.” He buried his face in her hair and sighed.
Chapter Sixteen
Zera paced her room. She was bored. As the High Lady she was not allowed to work. She did not have anyone but Adda to occupy her, and she was little company. She had to figure out how to get the High Lord to allow her to do something. Each step had her worrying the floor some more. Finally, an idea came to her.
Quickly, she summoned Adda and had her prepare as if it was a banquet night. Her hair silken and piled high, the gold hair ornament placed perfectly. The scarfs and sheer gold sheath put
on. Finally, she deemed herself perfectly dressed. She went to the door and paused, a deep breath giving her the confidence to go ahead with her plan. She walked to the dining room where the High Lord met with the various groups who needed his attention. For a compound with just under 150 people in it, you would think there were many more. All day, every day he had meetings.
Knocking on the door, Zera knelt on the floor her head bowed in a show of deference. She trembled to find what reception she would receive. High Lord Esson looked up and frowned. “High Lady. You know better than to bother me or to enter uninvited.” She looked up at him through her lashes and then bowed her head, remaining silent.
“My High Lord, should I have her removed and punished for daring to enter?” the nasally voice of the High Lord’s advisor asked, a undertone of excitement threaded through it.
Zera trembled as footsteps approached her. The High Lord reached down and lifted her chin. He looked into her eyes. After a few minutes he raised her to her feet. “No, I shall take her to her room. She must have a reason for seeking me out.” He led her the ten feet to her door and pushed her in. Adda rushed in from her room and stumbled to a stop at seeing the High Lord holding the High Lady’s arms above her head. His other hand upon her chin, holding her still.
“My High Lady, I hope your interruption was definitely worth my time. I would hate to have to punish you,” he said his eyes on Adda. Zera looked over at Adda as she turned white and crumpled to the floor.
Protect (The Guardians Book 1) Page 9