The Highest Bidder

by Desconhecido(a)

  The yeinei dumped a bowl of water over her head and scrubbed soap into her thick hair. “You have a higher honor than I.”

  “And what is that?”

  “Brenin Drake does not take lovers to his bed. You are the first woman he has brought to this keep that isn’t a yeinei servant. Even when he is in Bisura, he never visits the brothels.”

  Water rinsed her hair. Bubbles eddied and circled around Shenya. “I’m not at all sure what I am. I thought I was to be his servant. But…”

  “But you are his lover. He wants more of you. Brenin is a cold man, the most deadly in Bisura. You have reached him somehow, and this is a blessing. No man should walk through life alone.” The yeinei used a rough cloth to wash over Shenya’s skin. “He has a darkness about him, a cold sight that the yeinei don’t possess. He’s not like my people.”

  “No, he’s not like mine either, at least not wholly.”

  “Have you seen the light in his eyes?”

  Shenya remembered what had happened on the tower, when she had faced him and he looked different to her in the moonlight. His eyes had flashed with a white light. “Yes, what does it mean?”

  “Only that he sees things others cannot. He has the gift of the fallen goddess.”

  Shenya shuddered. The Assantra’s marks were true then.

  “Come,” the servant said. “I will dry you and dress you. Brenin will want you to have learned the lists by the time he returns.”

  Chapter Six

  The lists were the same as keeping track of inventory at the temple’s larder. Shenya learned them before morning finished, and set to work filling in the parchment ledgers for Brenin. The library where she worked held shelves of books, all of which she longed to open and read. Along one wall, he kept several weapons, some exotic, others plain as meal daggers. While Shenya scratched ink to paper, she imagined what it would be like when Brenin returned that night. Just the thought of his naked body made her go wet between her legs. She hunched over to hide the perk of her nipples for the yeinei had dressed her in the same sort of revealing garb that she’d worn the night before. This dress was purple with tiny bells sewn onto the hems. Any movement she made caused a musical tinkle to fill the silent room.

  She finished her work and stood to go find some other task to occupy her time. The yeinei, as if she had sensed Shenya’s boredom, appeared at the arched doorway.

  “I am to take you to the gardens. After that it will be time to eat.”

  “Very well.”

  They left the keep and stepped out into the sunlight. The heat felt good on Shenya’s exposed skin. The warmth of her god embraced her. Although she had never heard his voice in her mind like the women higher in her order, his touch always made her feel connected to the heavens. The yeinei led her through the keep’s garden and showed her the plants growing there. She explained which trees bore what fruit during each season, and when the harvest came, which things needed to be collected first. Shenya tried to memorize the lengthy set of instructions, but found her mind wandering back to Brenin’s tattoo.

  When the yeinei excused herself to go and prepare the meal, Shenya sat on a marble bench near the keep’s side door and breathed in the sweet scent of flowers and fresh earth. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would have been like to hold Brenin’s cock when he came. She wanted to touch it again at night. She wanted to understand how his body worked and delve into the closed off reaches of who he was. The yeinei had told her enough to make her understand. Brenin was not one to take lovers lightly if at all. She was special to him, maybe just for the coincidence of their past, that his mother had marked her as well as him.

  Birds sang back and forth in the trees. Relaxing in the sunlight, Shenya folded her hands in her lap. She wanted to touch herself and imagine Brenin’s fingers working her body, but she resisted. It was bad enough she had done so that morning and nearly been discovered.

  “Your meal is ready, lady.” The yeinei motioned for Shenya to come, and she complied. There had been no breakfast. Her stomach grumbled at her. She was led to the dining room and seated herself to a lavish meal for one. All the while she pushed bites of food into her mouth, she stared at the table’s top and envisioned what it must have looked like when Brenin had parted her legs and tongued her until she felt like she would explode. Maybe tonight she would do the same thing to him. She smiled despite herself and drank down her wine.

  When night came, she sat in his bed chamber embroidering. The yeinei had given her a scroll with the Drake family crest, and Shenya carefully sewed each shiny green stitch into the dragon’s shape to match the rendering. The first moon rose early that evening. She stopped to watch the small circle of blue climb, its path on course with the lead in the stained glass.

  The door opened and crashed into the wall. She turned to see Brenin limping in, his mouth twisted in a snarl and blood spattered across his scarred cheek.

  Shenya jumped up so fast that her sewing and the basket of threads fell across the tiled floor. She ran toward him, concerned. “Are you hurt?”

  He shook his head. “It’s nothing. A risk of my trade.”

  She touched his face with a tentative finger and indeed, it was not his blood he bore. “What have you done?”

  He grunted. With a wave of one hand, the door slammed shut and the lock fell into place. Wide-eyed, Shenya stared at it, unable to understand how it could have moved on its own.

  “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he growled. “How I want to be inside you, pounding into your body, deep…”

  She took a step backward. The light showed in his eyes in a malicious flicker. She wasn’t sure whether she should fear him or bend to his will. He spoke so harshly, with no regard to sensibilities. “I…was thinking of you today, too.”

  Her confession caused his face to soften. Brenin unclasped his cloak and threw it aside. “What were you thinking? Tell me.”

  She blushed and lowered her gaze.

  Undeterred, he stripped off the rest of his clothes in an angry rush. When Shenya dared to look up at him, he was bare. His cock stood thick and fully aroused. His small nipples were hard beads. “Did you touch yourself?”

  “Wh-what?”

  He strode to her and grasped her shoulders. “You heard me, woman. Did you think of me and touch yourself while I was away?”

  Sucking in a dry breath, she nodded.

  “Mm.” He claimed her mouth in a dangerous kiss that threatened to drown out her air. His tongue pushed inside as if he starved for the taste of her mouth. Her legs parted at the urging of his knee. His thigh rode from side to side against her pussy until the harsh rubbing sent her body into a swoon.

  Brenin broke their kiss and pushed her down atop the mattress. “I want you. Now.” He swept her dress up over her belly. The bells sewn to the hem tinkled. For a brief moment, he stared down at her pussy and licked his lips. Then, impatient, he took hold of his cock and placed it at her entry. The round bulge of its head pressed at her small opening. With his free hand he fingered her clitoris in frantic, needy strokes.

  Shenya tensed. His fiery lust made her anxious and nervous.

  “Come,” he moaned. “Come for me. I want to slide into your hot, wet body. I want to feel you all tight around me.” His fingers raged on her swelling flesh. “Come.”

  She closed her eyes and arched her back. Pounding and pressure combined when her body responded. He moved forward. She cringed and gripped the bed sheets in her fists. He pulled back and pressed his cock at her a second time.

  “Too tight,” he said, but thrust a third time.

  It felt like he would break her body, and Shenya was afraid. “It hurts,” she said, a wave of deficiency pummeling her. She wanted to submit, to have him enter her, but he was so big and her body unaccustomed to sex.

  His cock slipped away, soon replaced by his fingers. Dipping from her clitoris to her folds, he massaged and slicked his fingers in her juices. Wordless, he teased and touched. One finger explored a
t her entry. Shenya held still.

  “Relax,” he ordered. “I’ll loosen you.”

  His finger inched inside her opening. The sweet invasion made her want to scoot away such was the intensity and newness of the sensation. His digit pressed farther. Deeper. Shenya drove her hips down and felt a small, pain break inside her body.

  His finger retreated. She watched as he brought it his lips to suck away her essence. “Did you like that?”

  She nodded.

  His hand dropped to her pussy once more. He pushed the tips of two fingers at her opening. Slowly, carefully, he edged them into her body, circling them within. She calmed her breathing and tried to ease into his momentum. Each time he dipped into her became a little easier until she felt at the cusp of a second orgasm.

  “Take me,” Shenya pleaded.

  He withdrew and turned her on her stomach. She stared at the headboard while he repositioned himself between her legs. A finger still wet with her body’s juices circled her anus. She stiffened, unsure of what he would do next. As he had done to her pussy, Brenin edged the tip of his finger into her ass. The feeling of tightness made her want to squirm. His cock settled at her other hole and entered with one forceful shove. Deep into her pussy, he crammed his length and managed to set his finger in her ass a little more.

  “That’s it,” he murmured. “We’re one now, you and I. Forever. I’ve made you mine, Shenya.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. His eyes were shut, his mouth strained with concentration. His free hand reached to grasp up a handful of her hair. He pulled, forcing her to arch her back. Brenin moaned and rammed at her body until she thought she would split in half. It hurt at first, but soon the pace and repeated entry numbed the pain until she wanted more of it.

  His shaking groan and a sudden slam gave finality to his release. His cock throbbed inside her. His finger left her ass. Shenya screamed into the mattress, her voice muffled. Everything tensed—her legs, her thighs, her pussy. He had stretched her wide and continued to hold her there in that precarious position. Her body suffered a second release, this one more profound than the first. She couldn’t escape his impaling nor did she want to. Their connection burned through her. Shenya had disobeyed the temple’s rule by letting an undesirable claim her, and at that moment, she didn’t care.

  Chapter Seven

  She sat on the edge of the bed watching the moons pass across Brenin’s window. Seated behind her, he combed his fingers through her hair. “I don’t remember very much of the night the Assantra was killed,” she said.

  His lips ran along her shoulder in a soft caress. “I remember it well.”

  “You…were there?”

  “Yes.” He began to braid her locks into a thick plait. “You wouldn’t have seen me. I can move into the shadows—become a part of them.”

  Shenya thought back to that horrible night. They’d been in a caravan with two other high priestesses on the way to the temple in Jedra. It had happened in the carriage with the Assantra’s clothes and personal effects. She recalled being jarred awake when a cry broke the night—a woman’s shriek of terror. Shenya had climbed out the small door and witnessed the assassins’ calculated attack. Each head carriage they entered brought death to all within.

  “Was it you? Did you kill her?”

  He braided down the length of her hair in silence.

  Shenya waited, worried over his answer.

  “She didn’t know who I was at first,” he said, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “My own mother. How could she not know?” He crawled off the bed and went to stand by the window. A span of somber silence set in.

  She imagined it must have been him. Could he have killed his mother out of vengeance for what she had done to him? “What happened? I want to know what you did.”

  “I saw you for the first time that night. I felt it even then—our connection is undeniable.” Brenin placed his hands on his hips but didn’t turn to face her. “You must understand, Shenya. The Assasntras have a high bounty on their heads, mainly for the relics they possess. Magic is dangerous and powerful. Those who keep the sacred weapons of the gods will prevail in wars or battles. It was for that reason the assassins set upon the caravan the night you were taken. Someone spoke of a dagger, a prized blade rumored to have been the very same that cut my goddess from the heavens.”

  Her gaze shot to the chair over which his belt of weapons hung. Could one of them be the Othian dagger? She had seen the athame before, a stout little blade with Othia’s mark across its handle. The Assasntra used it in rituals and sacrifices.

  “When I heard that rumor,” Brenin went on, “I knew it had to be my mother’s caravan passing near Bisura. I know what the blade is, what it looks like.” He turned and stared straight at her. “I can’t forget the dagger she used to cut me.”

  “Then it was you.”

  He frowned. “No.” Brenin strode across the floor and grabbed hold of Shenya’s arm. He pulled her up to stand and covered her mouth with a hot, forceful kiss. His invasive tongue plied hers until she relented and kissed back. She thought he might want to claim her a second time, but he moved away and shoved her back onto the mattress. “You don’t know me. I doubt you ever will, as much as I think I would like that.” Naked, he marched to the door and left her there alone.

  Shenya crawled beneath the covers, shivering until her body heat warmed the bed. She didn’t think he’d be happy if she sought him out. His indication was clear when he shoved her away. He wanted her to stay in the bed—in his room. And she did.

  Night crept on. The moons finished their passes. Her eyes slipped shut despite her efforts to fight sleep. She dreamed little and awoke at dawn feeling tired. He wasn’t in the bed with her. Worried, she pulled on one of the dresses left for her and peered out into the hall.

  “Good morning, lady,” said a yeinei servant. She sat beside the door with a book in her lap.

  “Good morning.” Shenya looked down the hall in both directions. “Where is Brenin?”

  “He said to tell you he will be back by nightfall, that you are not to wait up for him because it will be late.”

  “But, where is he?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed behind her veil. “He is away on business, as he often is.”

  “Where?”

  “I cannot say, lady. And it is not your business to ask.” Her tone was not like the servant’s who bathed her the day before. Shenya decided this wasn’t the same woman.

  “Fine. What am I to do today?”

  The servant closed her book and got up. “You are to bathe as were his instructions, and then you are to ride down to the market with me and buy a suitable horse.”

  “Suitable?”

  She sighed and started down the hall. “Suitable for a lady of the keep, of course.”

  Shenya followed. She went through the daily ritual bath and let this terse servant dress her. At least the garments she was given were less revealing. The tabard bore Brenin’s family crest across the front, and beneath this, she wore a heavily embroidered chemise. The woman gave her stockings to pull on and a pair of lady’s riding boots. Afterward, her hair was re-plaited with white ribbons.

  In the courtyard, a carriage waited to take her to Bisura. A warm breeze rolled over the grounds and brought the scent of fresh hay and the wilds beyond to her. Shenya seated herself inside and stared out the window, wondering where her mysterious lover was. The ride into town brought her sights of farms and workers toiling in the fields. She used the time to think back on the night her mistress had been murdered. Brenin said he hadn’t killed her…and Shenya decided that she believed him. She had seen Haen’s body. A blade had pierced her chest and her garb was stained crimson by the blood. The assassins had tossed her aside like so many others in the head carriages—as if they were garbage to be discarded and forgotten.

  Music lilted through the air and the carriage came to a stop. Shenya waited for the servant to open her door. Together, the pair walked toward one of the many
circles for barter in Bisura. There upon a stage, horses were led up for inspection and auction. Shenya tried not to shudder. Like an animal she had been sold to Brenin—like these horses.

  “You will need a solid horse fit for battle.”

  Her brow crinkled with confusion. “But why?”

  “If you are to keep up with Brenin, you will need a mount equal to his.” She nodded at the animals waiting to be led up the ramp. “There are three there that might suit you. The white one, the speckled gray, and that mare in the front.”

  Shenya spoke in a hushed voice. “How much am I allowed to bid?”

  The yeinei chuckled. “Brenin believes no price is too high for the best. Just as he believed that for you.”