Nuworld: The Saga Begins

by Lorie O'Clare

  What was it about this woman?

  Intelligence mixed with her beauty in a way Darius hadn’t thought possible. She wore the two qualities in a way that drew him. He wanted to know her. It dawned on Darius at that moment that he had never really cared to know any woman before Tara. Women served a purpose, but one of them wasn’t companionship. Tara made him want to learn more about what she thought, what ticked behind those sapphire eyes.

  But there was something else. Darius wanted to make Tara his. This woman was no Gothman, but she was on his land, acting the part of a Gothman. There was mystery behind her, but that didn’t bother him. All knowledge of her would be his in time. What fascinated him was the desire to possess her.

  “How do you feel about the fact that with one word I could have you rule this land at my side?” Darius whispered into her ear.

  “You know nothing about me. I may make a lousy ruler.” She returned his gaze, snagging her fingers in his hair and then pulling them free. “I would think something like that should be a mutual decision, my Lord.” She pushed herself off of him and looked around until she spotted her dress.

  “I’m not surprised you’d answer like that, my Lady.” He wasn’t daunted by her boldness. “You’re not like any lass I’ve met and I’ve known a few, that much is true. They’re always polite and submissive, of course, and they say only what they think I want to hear, they do. You think for yourself. I like that. Why are you like that, Tara?”

  “I guess I don’t see why women have to be less than men.” She looked at him quickly, as if checking his face for a reaction.

  He didn’t respond but instead, got up and picked up the pants Tara had managed to pull off him. Showing this woman how to submit would be more pleasure than he thought possible.

  * * * * *

  Tara couldn’t help noticing that he appeared as if he could go another round. She liked that quality in a man. But there was more than his sexuality that impressed her. Darius appeared interested in her, but Tara didn’t fool herself into believing his curiosity was drawn by affection.

  She knew better.

  Darius questioned her nature because he needed confirmation she was a Runner. His tactics were far more impressive than capture and torture. Tara also felt this approach showed that he might possibly consider the fact that she wasn’t the enemy.

  Gothman and Runners might have a bad history, but that history didn’t affect her. In fact, Tara wasn’t sure if there was reason for the two nations of people to despise each other. Ignorance had made them enemies. Tara wondered if knowledge could make them friends.

  Tara pulled her dress over her head then twisted around until it hung properly. She walked to his motorcycle, assuming he wasn’t pleased by her last comment and would probably take her back to the house. The man wanted her compliance.

  Any Gothman woman would do well to be claimed by the Lord of Gothman.

  But Tara wasn’t Gothman, and he couldn’t offer her anything that she wasn’t able to obtain on her own. She guessed that since she didn’t dance in appreciation to his suggestion, she had offended him, and possibly bruised that mighty ego.

  “The Gothman culture has been the way it is for hundreds of winters, it has.” Darius buttoned his pants.

  She turned and then walked back to him. “Cultures can change, don’t you think?”

  Darius wasn’t looking at her face.

  She wondered if he even heard her when he didn’t answer. He seemed more intent on studying her breasts. “And who better to start a change but the leader of the land? I’ve never known a man like you.” Tara ran her hands up his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart under muscles that rippled from her touch. “Gothman is powerful, and that power comes from you. You alone could alter the state of women, and no one would stop you.”

  She watched her hands caress his chest, feeling the ironclad strength as well as his heat. The scent of their sex was intoxicating, her insides swelling, pulsating, aching for him to be inside her again.

  Darius lifted her chin with one finger.

  Those gray eyes captivated her. Did she see amusement?

  “Now, how would I do a thing like that, girl?” Darius tapped her chin with his finger and then headed toward his bike, leaving her lightheaded standing alone. She forced her thoughts to clear, knowing a point should be made here.

  “I’ve heard you’re a great leader, Lord Darius. I’m sure you can do anything if you set your mind to it.”

  Darius got onto his bike and gave her a hard look, not offering to help her on board. She wasn’t affected by the look but simply smiled at him and easily slid onto the bike behind him.

  Tara hoped her expression appeared calm. Her body tingled in pure satisfaction, and snuggling behind him increased her desire to have him again. But her brain was in pure turmoil. She feared that she’d allowed him to learn more about her than she’d wanted to share.

  He’d openly admitted that she was different from any woman he had been with. Tara had to acknowledge that his ability to keep her from knowing whether or not he knew she was a Runner was excellent strategy. It kept her alert and guessing.

  * * * * *

  Darius took his time returning to the house. His emotions were absolutely contorted beyond recognition. Tara was no Gothman. He had his Runner, of that much, he was certain. The woman stirred something within him. Oh, she’d moved him physically; there was no doubt about that. He would have her again, and soon. It was more than physical lust though. She’d challenged him.

  His best advisors didn’t question the laws and traditions of Gothman. No one did. Not while he’d been lord. Yet this female didn’t hesitate to do so. Darius didn’t feel a need to explain to her why women were kept the way they were. Conversation like that would have been a waste of his time. And really, it wasn’t the issue she brought up to him, itself, but the fact that this female had enough spunk to speak to him in such a way. No woman, no person, had done that before.

  He thought about the past few winters and how he’d taken whatever he’d wanted, and how no one, absolutely no one, had stood in his way. If they’d tried, they’d been killed. He felt no remorse. He’d not been heir to Gothman, but had known since he was a child that he was the one meant to rule. His older brother hadn’t the backbone. His papa had known that, but was too traditional to allow the middle son to rule. So, Darius had taken matters into his own hands. He felt no regrets over his brother’s death.

  Over the past few winters he had taken everything he wanted. And that had included practically every available lass in Bryton. Not that any had objected. His mama had brought every young Gothman woman she could into the household. He’d slept with each one of them; at least he was pretty sure he had. But then, he’d lost interest. Each one had taken the edge off, fucking him when he went to them. But beyond that, they bored him. The Lord of Gothman needed a claim. He would push on thirty winters before long, and he knew the town anticipated he claim one of their available women. More than once he’d told himself to just claim one of them and be done with it. But the thought of having any of those women under his roof for the rest of his winters rubbed him to the point of irritation.

  His younger brother, Mikel, frowned upon his promiscuity. Mikel was too much like their papa, Lord Jovis, and although Darius hadn’t mourned his papa’s death, he could only imagine what his papa would have said if he’d learned Darius just had sex with a Runner—something he definitely planned to do again.

  In Darius’ tenth or twelfth winter, his papa had engaged in a heated argument about Runners with a Runner. Darius hadn’t witnessed the event, but he remembered his papa’s tirade after it was over. And he had listened as the guards speculated over the results of the argument. What had stuck in Darius’ mind over the winters was that, according to gossip, his papa relented to the Runner’s wishes. He remembered thinking his papa was weak not to stand up to the Runner. It had also put a kind of awe in his young mind as to the type of man who could argue with the Lo
rd of Gothman and survive to have his way.

  It dawned on him suddenly that the argument had concerned Reena. And it was Reena who’d brought Tara to them.

  Darius knew Reena associated with Runners from time to time. Word had reached him more than once that a passing clan would bring her gifts. In return, she allowed a lone Runner to spend a night in her secluded cabin before they continued on their way. He hadn’t seen reason for concern. Technically, the woman lived outside the town proper, and so had no influence on others. She didn’t gossip about her occasional visitor, and his guards never reported that the Runners caused problems.

  But with Tara’s coming, something had changed. She was the first Runner to enter Gothman land and then venture farther into the community.

  As he pulled into the backyard behind his house, he decided that before long he would know the life story of this beautiful woman sitting way too close. He would know why she was here and what she wanted. He already knew what he wanted.

  Tara hopped off the bike and started walking toward the house without saying anything.

  Lord Darius grabbed her arm and stopped her. “I’ll say it again, my lady. You’re different from any woman I’ve met. And I’m curious about why you’d like to see Gothman culture change. Changing to be like whom, I’m wondering.” He looked at her hard, but Tara remained silent, staring back with an expression so calm he couldn’t help but think it had taken winters of training to master it.

  Darius studied her tanned complexion, the brown hair that fell past her shoulders and was soft as silk. Her lips were full, and he ached with a sudden urgency to kiss them. He focused on her eyes, a blue that darkened with her emotions, as he was quickly discovering. Right now they were like a dark sapphire, showing no sign of submission.

  He moved his attention to her breasts, perky and full, with nipples hardened to a tempting peak under the fabric of her dress. He released her arm and ran a finger over one nipple. She didn’t flinch, which pleased him for a reason he couldn’t identify. Darius pulled her close. “I enjoyed you, though. We’ll do that again, soon.”

  * * * * *

  Tara smiled, tingles rushing through her from his bold touch, but then pushed against Darius’ chest, needing distance before she ripped that shirt free from him and begged him to do her again right there on his bike. She would have loved to escape to her room for a shower but Hilda was nearby, arguing with a teenage girl who appeared to have brought groceries.

  “There you are, girl,” Hilda said, smiling when she saw Tara.

  Tara knew she must look rumpled and wondered if Hilda had correctly guessed what had occurred between her son and her new assistant.

  She turned away from the older woman’s speculative gaze and nodded to the teenage girl. The girl didn’t nod back but curled her lip as she eyed Tara from head to toe. Tara felt her cheeks warm and slipped past them and hurried to the small room where she could wash her hands and face and brush her hair.

  Torgo appeared to be glad to see her, too. He reminded her she’d said she would spend time with him.

  Tara gave the boy a hug and promised she would do so as soon as his mama permitted.

  Chapter Five

  Hilda insisted Tara was in their home to help with the household chores and not to be a playmate for Torgo. It took many days to convince her, but finally she consented to the two spending time together.

  Tara knew Hilda didn’t understand why she’d want to spend time playing with the boy when she could be inside baking and catching up on local gossip. It seemed to Tara that was all Gothman women did for entertainment. But she craved being outside. She felt too confined inside the large house, even with its many windows and high ceilings. Tara knew she had to be careful not to arouse suspicion in Hilda, but the woman seemed content with the knowledge that Tara had grown up with just a Papa and brothers, and so therefore had spent time outside playing the boy games as a younger girl.

  Darius wouldn’t be as easily fooled however.

  Tara was relieved and frustrated that Darius didn’t spend much time at the house. She ached to see him more, to touch him, and to experience his touch again. But the leader of Gothman appeared to be so busy that he was awake and gone often before sunrise, and seldom returned before late in the evening. Many nights Tara, after she had supposedly retired for the day, sat in her bedroom with the door open so she could hear when he came home. Then she would strain to hear what he did until he finally went to bed.

  The man appeared preoccupied with the affairs of Gothman. Tara itched to know what politics distracted him, but knew no Gothman woman would think of asking the lord about his business. She wanted to join him in his office, ask him about his day, and exchange stories. She wished she could share experiences with him and learn more about how the man ticked. But to attempt to do any of that would spread suspicion. And that was something she couldn’t do. As much as she ached to let Darius know her better, she knew that would be a fool’s mission. So she sat alone in the dark of her bedroom every night, and wondered what Darius thought of her, and when he would seek her out next.

  Tonight she had fallen asleep before he’d come home. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his boots on the stairs while he ascended them. Slow and steady, her heart raced with anticipation that he might be coming to her. With every breath, her breasts swelled, pressing against the covers while she listened to him move down the hallway.

  A door opened, but didn’t close. He had gone to his own room.

  She ran her hands down her body, imagining Lord Darius touching her. A fever burned inside her, an ache for him grew with every moment that she lay in the dark, straining to hear what he might be doing. Her frustration peaked when his door finally closed, the house growing quiet once again. Embers smoldered while a fever she couldn’t control made her insides throb for a man she knew she could never truly have.

  * * * * *

  “What will we do today?” Torgo asked, as he sat on the stool in the kitchen watching Tara clean breakfast dishes.

  “Well now, I will have to check with your mama and see if there are any extra chores she has in mind for me. I have to earn my keep, you know.” She smiled at his forlorn look.

  “Mama will have you busy for hours, I’m sure,” he said with disappointment.

  “I don’t know about hours, child.” Hilda stood in the doorway. “I’ll have you clean the first floor today. You’ll get your own routine down soon enough, I’m sure, as long as his Lordship doesn’t take you away from me again.”

  Tara blushed.

  Hilda grinned and chuckled as she walked out of the room.

  “Has my brother claimed you yet?” Torgo asked.

  Tara was surprised at the question, but the look of innocence on his face reminded her that this was his culture. “No, child, he hasn’t.”

  “When I get older, I’m going to claim a girl as pretty as you.”

  Torgo followed Tara around the house, talking to her as she dusted the rooms and cleaned the floors. The late morning air was brisk and a cool south breeze floated down from the hills as the young boy led Tara to the grassy meadow beyond the backyard.

  “To be a strong warrior like your brother, you must start your lessons at a young age.” She squatted to collect several small rocks.

  “And what do you know about being a strong warrior?” Torgo laughed.

  Tara squinted at the boy who stood next to her, silhouetted by the sun. “I grew up with brothers who all worked to be great warriors, I did.”

  Torgo accepted the explanation with a quick nod. Every Gothman boy dreamed of being a great warrior.

  “Darius said he would teach me to ride a motorcycle when I was a little older.” The boy put his hands on his hips and stood a little taller.

  “Ah, that’s good. Let’s see how your aim is today. Do you see that tree over that way? Hit it with these rocks.” She handed him the rocks.

  Torgo hesitated. “It’s too far away.”

  Tara held the roc
ks in one hand and with the other threw them, hitting the trunk of the tree each time. She bent down and gathered more rocks. “Now, you try.”

  Amazed, the boy took the rocks and threw them, missing the tree each time.

  Tara agreed they could move closer.

  After many attempts, Torgo finally started to hit the tree. His excitement showed through his young eyes and he hugged Tara joyfully. “They won’t pick on me at school anymore.” He attempted a jig as he jumped around in a circle.

  “This is just the beginning of the many things a great warrior will need to know.” They walked slowly back to the house together.

  “Throwing rocks?” Torgo looked confused. “Is this something you did with your brothers?”

  “Did you just learn to throw rocks today?” Tara eyed the young boy whose face showed his eagerness to learn.

  “Yes. All I did was throw rocks.” Torgo sounded confused.

  “Ah, I think you learned several things today. Give it some thought. Meanwhile, practice on different targets. Maybe tomorrow we can get outside again. It sure is a nice break from my chores.” To Tara’s surprise, the young boy jumped at her and gave her a tight hug. He held on to her for a moment and she returned the hug.

  * * * * *

  Hilda worried about Tara working with Torgo after school. One or two walks after chores was okay, Hilda guessed. And Torgo escorting the girl did keep her safe from the guards. But the two of them traipsed off daily, and Hilda couldn’t see the point in it.

  Tara showed every sign of growing up without a mama. The girl had a bit of the wild side to her. Hilda felt obligated to her friend, Reena, to help the girl master the domestic skills she obviously lacked. Tara could clean well enough, but she seemed clueless about making many common meals. Hilda wondered more than once how Tara’s brothers and Papa hadn’t starved to death. Tara had no culinary skills whatsoever.