by Jet Mykles
“Suzana, please. Calm down. There’s nothing you can do --”
Again, Suzana shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Radin!” Gala screamed as Suzana darted to the window.
Behind her, the door crashed open. But she was at the sill. She ... Froze. Not of her own volition. The air itself coalesced around her body, confining her in the spot where she stood. Magic.
“Trying to take flight without wings, little bird?”
She felt Radin coming up behind her but could not move a muscle to turn toward him. He materialized at her side, head cocked in question. He seemed calm, but she thought that might be anger or annoyance burning in those red eyes.
Her mouth, she found, was not confined. “You can’t take my virginity.”
“I didn’t, Suzana.”
She shook with the effort to move, her gaze cast out the window and down at the welcoming cobblestones below. “You’re going to give me to some man to take my virginity tonight. You can’t.”
“Why?”
“It’s all I have left.”
He leaned casually against the edge of the window, crossing his arms over her chest. “Small comfort in a thin barrier buried deep inside your cunt, Suzana.”
She flinched at his vulgarity.
“Besides, did you think we weren’t going to take you? You were headed for a slave auction when I first saw you, Suzana. What do you think your new master would have done?”
“Radin, don’t be cruel,” Gala admonished.
He waved a hand in her direction but kept his eyes glued to Suzana. “Talk to me, Suzana. Don’t you think we’ve been rather kind so far?”
Tears welled in Suzana’s eyes.
Radin sighed. “Don’t cry, little bird. It’s not as bad as all that. You’re not headed for a vulgar rape. After all, you’re going to choose the winner of the contest.”
She blinked, trying to contain her tears. “I am?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“What does that mean?”
“Part of the virgin contest involves a spell that’s tuned to your arousal. I’m actually quite excited to see how it works, as I’ve never cast it before.”
“You haven’t?” This from Gala, somewhere behind Suzana.
Radin’s eyes remained on Suzana. “No. Suzana’s the first virgin we’ve found since I reached my majority.” He smiled. “And I reached my majority nearly two hundred cycles ago.” He waited for Suzana to digest that tidbit of information before continuing. “The spell takes your arousal and allows everyone at the contest tonight to experience it on a low level. The men fighting for your favor, however, will feel it more strongly.” He lanced her gaze with his, making sure she heard his next words. “Your focus will give your favorites a needed edge in winning you. So, in a way, you will be choosing the winner. If you can’t decide, then those who are among your favorites will fight it out until one remains the victor.”
She swallowed the last of her tears. He was right. She was being given far more choice than she would have received as a slave. They were being nice to her. She was warm. She was clean. She instinctively trusted Gala. And Radin. Despite his mischievous grin and exotic nature, she did feel that she could trust him. Her instincts were rarely wrong.
“Will Krael be there?”
Radin laughed. “You remember his name, then? I noticed your instant attraction for him. Your reaction to him in the forest is the reason I chose Ilk vet metmre for you.” He eyed her, red eyes shining. “Yes. He, and those like him, will be among the combatants.”
“Can’t I just choose him?”
Radin’s eyes widened. “A moment ago you were protesting that anyone take your innocence, and now you’re asking for Krael? Are you so sure, little bird?”
She nodded, so intent she didn’t realize that she could now move freely. “Yes.”
“How do you know? You’ve only met a handful of us. I assure you that Krael is not the only arrogant, long-haired warrior among us.” He snorted. “We have those in abundance.”
She shook her head. “No. I want Krael. I know it.”
His humor slipped. “You know? How?”
She lowered her head. “I just do.”
“Yes. I sensed some magic in you,” he mused. “But it was faint, so it must be mostly instinctual.”
He reached out and gently grasped Suzana’s shoulder. “I’ll make a bargain with you, little bird. Come with us to the contest. See the combatants. If it’s Krael you truly want, your attention alone can ensure that you have him.”
He guided her firmly away from the open window, turning her to face the room. Gala stood at the bed, an encouraging smile on her kind face. Another raedjour man, shorter and younger than Radin, stood behind her. Suzana assumed it was Gala’s truemate, Hyle.
“Do I have a choice?”
“Truly? No,” Radin answered, voice stern but not unkind. “Regardless of anything you or I say or do, you will be taken by a raedjour tonight. Potentially fertile women do not go untried among us. But take my bargain and at least you’ll have some say in the matter.”
“Do as he says, Suzana,” Gala urged. “It was more choice than I was given at first.”
Suzana considered. Radin was right. The offering was far more than she would have received from whoever would have bought her from the caravan master. After a short silence, she nodded.
“Good.” Radin turned her and tipped Suzana’s chin up with one finger. “Don’t be afraid, little bird. We’ll take very good care of you.”
Chapter Six
Suzana was overwhelmed. She sat amongst a wealth of silken, embroidered pillows on a dais raised perhaps four feet above the dirt floor of a small arena. The perimeter of the cleared central area was lined with similar pillow-strewn platforms, only one set higher than hers. That one stood against the wall to the right of Suzana, empty.
Radin lounged beside her, half seated among the pillows. A low table -- more of a tray -- lay between them, supporting a trencher of rich stew as well as assorted small loaves of different kinds of bread. Gala and her truemate, Hyle, lay loosely entwined next to Suzana, sharing their own tray. To Radin’s other side sat another woman, introduced to Suzana as Diana. Diana, unlike the other women, wore a burgundy leather tunic, which cut off just below her breasts, and snug matching leather trousers. Oddly, about her wrists and neck she wore restraints, but these she treated more like jewelry than bondage.
The other platforms were rapidly filling with a multitude of people. The far majority were raedjour, men and women, their shining onyx skin mostly bare. Men wore trousers and boots. Women wore skirts or wraps and sandals or boots. Most of the women were topless. There were a few human-looking women within the crowd, each paired with a man. There were a few human men, as well, but they seemed to be servants of some kind as each wore at least a collar around his neck.
Krael was nowhere in sight. When Suzana asked Radin about him, he would only say that the warriors would “soon make their appearance.”
At present, a man sat in the center of the arena, entertaining the crowd with song as he played his lute. Born to a people who held music in the highest regard, Suzana paid him the attention he deserved. When he rolled into his next song, she was delighted to discover her name in the phrasing. While he sang, he focused smiling blue eyes on her. When he completed his ballad, Suzana was not the only one to applaud enthusiastically. He seemed to be a crowd favorite.
“Donnal, haven’t I heard that ballad before?” Radin asked, amusement lacing his low voice.
The musician darted an anxious glance at him. “Uh, no, Radin.”
“Really? I could have sworn I’d heard it. Although, the name was ‘Tiana,’ not ‘Suzana.’”
Suzana covered her mouth with her hand to hide her giggle.
“You’re correct, Radin,” shouted a female voice from across the room. A woman stood on one of the platforms. Her white hair was piled atop her head in luxurious curls, held in place by violet
ribbons, and a matching violet sheath hugged the curves of her black-skinned body. “Donnal, I’m wounded.” Her smile and amused voice ruined her act.
The musician cast an agonized gaze at Suzana. Raised among musicians, Suzana took pity on him. “It’s a lovely song, sir bard.” He puffed up at her choice of title. “Thank you.”
“Come here, sir bard,” said the woman as Donnal left the area. “I’ll give you something to sing about!”
The crowd laughed, Suzana with them. Happily, she accepted a plate of sweets from a young boy and turned to share them with Radin.
“All right, Radin. When does this show start?” Diana grumbled once the laughter had died.
Radin looked at Suzana instead. “Please forgive Diana. She’s a bit put out, being separated for the first time from Salin since they truemated.”
Diana snorted. “I’d be less ‘put out’ if I didn’t have to witness this farce.”
“Diana,” Radin warned.
“What? It’s barbaric.”
“No,” Radin disagreed lightly. “‘Barbaric’ would be if we laid her out on a table and then stood in line to take a turn at her.” Suzana gasped, but he smiled at her to make light of his words. “Which we won’t do.” He looked back at Diana. “Despite what you want to think, we do want her pleasure.”
“Of course.” This from Gala. “Remember, the raedjour feel your pleasure.”
“And tonight, everyone here will feel your pleasure.” He waved at the crowded arena. “Which is why there are so many of us here tonight. As Suzana’s arousal grows, so everyone will feel it.”
Suzana’s face flamed at the reminder.
“Well, isn’t Rhae just full of surprises,” Diana muttered.
Of a sudden, the din of the crowd hushed. Confused, Suzana looked up to see most attention directed toward the largest entrance directly across from her. The crowd parted. And they entered.
The first man to enter was a marvel to behold. Tall, slim, and completely naked, the raedjour was nearly covered head to knee, elbow to elbow with gleaming white designs. These seemed more vivid than the tattoos on Radin, nearly as bright as the shimmering white hair that fell in heavy waves to his knees. From across the room, Suzana could plainly make out the burning orange of his eyes. To each side, he was flanked by another man. The one to his right was slightly taller, with short gray-white hair. He wore loose trousers and tall boots, and swords were tucked in either side of the embroidered red sash that bound his slim waist. Weblike tattoos decorated his chest. The man on the left was shorter and rounder, his white hair bound and braided close to his head. He wore a vivid red robe that swathed his body from shoulder to ankle but was left open in front to reveal nudity beneath.
Behind the trio were at least a dozen other men, warriors all, to judge by the weapons at their waists or held expertly in their hands. And Krael was at the head of this group! He strode just behind and to the right of the short-haired swordsman in front. Gleaming obsidian muscles rolled, a sinuous predator in motion. His shining white hair followed as an unbound cloud behind him. Krael’s eyes locked on Suzana, and an evil grin possessed his lips.
The procession advanced until all the warriors were within the open area. The warriors stopped while the man in front and his two companions continued to the empty raised dais. Radin tapped Suzana’s shoulder, leaning close. “That is Valanth, our rhaeja. Consider him our king.”
Suzana only nodded, her eyes still glued to Krael, who now stood at the head of the procession of warriors. He fingered a long black whip that was curled up and attached at his hip. Mesmerized, she watched him slide the tail of the supple leather weapon through his fingers, the gleaming black the exact same shade as Krael’s skin. She wanted to feel those fingers on her skin, have them caress her as they caressed the leather. Her mouth went dry at the thought.
“Radin,” came a strong voice from the larger the dais, startling her. “Bring forth the virgin so I may see her.”
With a small sigh, Radin rose and extended a hand to help her to her feet. A glance at the rhaeja showed his attention on her, and fear pulsed in her throat. Luckily, the training drilled into her since birth as a noble lady also kicked in. Head bowed, she allowed Radin to hand her down the shallow steps at the back of the platform, then lead her to meet the raedjour ruler.
The rhaeja lounged back among a wealth of pillows atop the dais. A woman had been brought to him and now served as his backrest. She was as naked as the rhaeja, her lovely onyx skin smooth and unadorned except for a white leather collar strapped around her neck. A chain dangled down her chest to the pillow below her, the handle conveniently located for the rhaeja’s hand. Her white hair fell in thick waves past her shoulders. She sat placidly, but not as a lover would. She stared blankly to the side, her face and green eyes entirely devoid of emotion or feeling. She focused on a space inches before her nose and seemed to see nothing. What could cause someone to look like that?
“Rhaeja, may I present Suzana,” Radin pronounced, halting her at the foot of the steps leading to Valanth.
Valanth no more noticed the woman against whom he lay than he noticed the silken pillows beneath them. “Come closer.”
Hesitantly, Suzana mounted to the final step, keeping her head bowed.
“Look at me.”
She did and found that meeting his gaze was nearly impossible. Every fiber of her being wanted to stumble back down the steps and hide from this man. His eyes burned fiery orange, hotter than the glowing red of Radin’s eyes, and the wicked slant to the lips below them did not convince her that he was entirely sane. His skin was not wrinkled, but he did look older than Radin somehow. Perhaps his skin gleamed just a little less, or perhaps his muscles were a tad less defined.
His voice was smooth as silk. “Aren’t you tiny? Where are you from, child?”
“Dinnah Mar, my lord. Just off the north coast.”
He nodded. “I have heard of such a place. An island nation, yes? Under the god Lir?”
“Yes, my lord. Rhaeja.” She ducked her head, but the view was no easier lower on his body. The white designs on his flesh were disturbing, much brighter than those on Radin’s chest, face, and abdomen. If she stared at any of them too long, the design looked like it moved, or began to hover over his skin. His stenciled cock lay long and semi-hard against his flat belly.
“We have never seen the sea, of course, but we have heard of such a wonder. You are a long way from home.”
She settled her darting gaze on his shoulder, knowing he would take offense if she simply looked away. “Yes, rhaeja.”
“And exquisitely well behaved. You are familiar with courtly manners.”
“Yes, rhaeja.”
“Nobly born, then?”
“Yes, rhaeja.”
“Ah. Would that I could teach the raedjour to respect courtly behavior. I fear we are quite lax in the proper modes of respect.”
By his words, she knew his kind. A man who thought much of his position and thrilled at others’ recognition. The trouble with such men was they rarely earned the recognition they sought.
“Perhaps I may rely on you to ...” His words trailed off. Suddenly, he rolled forward to his knees, leaning toward her. On instinct, Suzana stepped back, but he grabbed a handful of hair just behind her ear to still her. Frowning, he stared at her face. “This one’s a mage!” He glared over her shoulder. “Radin, all mages are to come to me first.”
An abrupt hush settled over the arena.
Radin spoke calmly. “Beg pardon, rhaeja, but she’s not a mage.”
Valanth sneered over her shoulder. “Do you doubt my abilities to tell such things, sorcerer?”
“No, rhaeja. She does, indeed, have magic, but she is not a mage.”
Valanth turned back to her. “What say you, virgin? Are you a mage?”
“N-no, rhaeja.” Terrified, she trembled under his glare. “M-my family, my lord, is born with some magic, but it is very specific.”
“Such as?”
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“Music. I’m a bard.”
“You cast spells with your voice?”
“N-not exactly s-spells, my lord. I can enhance and sometimes cause strong emotions.”
The death grip on her hair eased a touch. “I see. A useful trait.”
“Yes, rhaeja.”
“But she’s not a mage, my lord.”
She swallowed a cry as Valanth thrust her aside, bringing her to her knees beside him while keeping hold of her hair. “You’re new to your position, sorcerer --” The word was said with a sneer. “-- to be judging magic for me.”
“My apologies, rhaeja.”
Suzana knelt, frozen, as Valanth turned back to her. The fingers in her hair pulled cruelly, but she bit her lip over the pain. Like a frightened bird before a cat, she stared up at his considering gaze.
“Perhaps in this, you’re right.” Suzana held her breath when he tilted his head, the long fall of his silvery white hair tumbling across his shoulder. “She would have to have more power to be the answer to my needs. Besides, I don’t have the patience to train a virgin.” He released her, pushing back slightly to force her to struggle to keep her balance. A smile took his lips as he settled back against the empty-eyed woman. “So tell me, are you prepared for a thick black cock to take your virginity?”
She gasped. He chuckled, grasping his own organ with a long-fingered hand. Suzana watched, unable to tear her gaze away, as it grew in his grip. The odd stenciled designs reformed as it grew. “Ilk vet metmre,” Valanth murmured. “You are certain of this, Radin? She doesn’t strike me as the type.”
“Quite certain, rhaeja.”
Valanth nodded, still stroking his cock. Suzana struggled not to squirm where she stood, aroused despite her fear of the august presence before her. “Stare like that, virgin, and I may reconsider my decision not to train you.”
Blushing, Suzana dropped her gaze to the planks at her feet.
Valanth laughed. “Very well. Let’s get on with this.”
Krael clutched the whip, his relief slow to diffuse through the boiling rage in his blood. He was as loyal as any to the king, but he wanted that tasty virgin morsel for himself.