Captive

by Louisa Trent

  But no chastisement followed. No rebuke either, though the servant had entered a bedchamber without expressed permission and with a lady present. Nor did the vassal act as though anything was amiss.

  She realized slowly that there was no rebuke because there was no lady present! Sage called her milady, but this was only a courtesy title. To Sage, to Will, to all the servants, to everyone in the keep, she was the warlord's possession, accorded the same respect any possession would be given. As to her outraged sense of modesty—she might just as well forget that fine sensibility. She could no longer claim respectability.

  My, how low she had fallen! Aeschine mused, stepping away from the screen of her lover's back. Naked as the village tart, she crossed the room. Without covering her naked and bobbing breasts, or shielding her bald lower regions, she went to him. The servant looked, and she let him look. She was only an object of curiosity. A thing.

  But she was a thing the vassal obviously admired.

  A look of tacit approval passed between the two men.

  The vassal was the warlord's right hand man; he most certainly knew of her captor's past celibacy. He now knew she was the reason he had cast celibacy aside.

  As to the warlord—he was proud of her. So proud of her in fact that he was showing her off to his vassal...

  ...like a mare at the fair.

  Still, she couldn't help but feel pleased. Especially since the warlord was more aroused than even he was before; his erection clearly bulged under his hose. Sage was excited that another man was seeing her in the nude!

  Basking in the men's approval, she tossed her hair and preened a bit. Glowing with a new confidence, she flirted a bit too. Vanity was a new vice, quickly added to her repertoire. “Thank you, Will.” Her lashes aflutter, she held out her hands for the buckets of hot water. “Let me take those. You must have enough to do without seeing to the lord's bath too."

  Whores may not expect privacy, whores may not command a lady's respect, but her mother had taught her that graciousness is often returned in kind. And though both flirting and vanity were new to her, and out of place in the serious business of life, she was only human...

  Aeschine wished for many things in life: peace, love, freedom. Privacy was the least of what she wished for, and of no real importance in the scheme of things. What she wished for the most was the exoneration of her clan in the murder of Geoffrey de Sage's much-loved wife. Alas, that was not possible. She was a Scots, first and foremost, and that meant abiding to a code of silence. Still, expressing sorrow violated nothing. And it was time.

  As soon as the vassal left she would pay her respects to Sage's beloved lost wife.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Will, you may hand the bath linens to Aeschine, but set the water over there on the hearth,” Sage said. “Milady is not to lift those heavy pails."

  The warlord smiled reassuringly at her. “Do not be afraid or embarrassed in front of Will. He will see you everyday, robed and unrobed, and he is worthy of trust. You will soon become accustomed to his presence and you will not feel the need to seduce him as you are doing now."

  “I merely smiled!” she protested, but her guilty conscience pricked her.

  He held up his hand. “Please do not argue. I saw for myself that you were trying to entice him. Act the whore, be treated as a whore.” Sage called to his vassal. “Will, you may examine milady now."

  Aeschine frowned. “Examine?"

  “You will be checked once a month, internally, just as the other whores are examined. This is done to ensure your good health. Will, you may proceed."

  Will inclined his head. “Very good, milord,” he said matter-of-factly, and poured hot water over his hands.

  Sage turned to Aeschine. “Go to the bed, and get up on top."

  She blushed a bright red. “Captor, please. I have no disease..."

  “Now Aeschine."

  She flounced to the bed, her expression mutinous.

  Sage and Will followed.

  “On you back, lass.” The warlord issued the command.

  Aeschine reclined.

  “Feet on the very edge, toes hanging over. Buttocks brought forward and legs well apart. I want Will to have a good view of you."

  “Please, Captor. This is undignified for a lady."

  “Aeschine,” Sage said severely, his hand resting lightly on her knee. “There is no need to make this more than what it is. ‘Tis only your female's body, after all. If you are bashful, you have my permission to turn your face away. Though why a whore would be embarrassed to have two men look at her is bewildering to me."

  Rather than be found out, Aeschine brought her bottom and feet to the edge of the bed but kept her legs tightly closed.

  The captor disapproved. “You will stop this nonsense at once, lass! You are no innocent nun. You understand very well what we are about here. This examination is a requirement of the bargain you made with me."

  “Please, Captor..."

  Sage stroked her jaw with his knuckles. “Lass, my vassal will not hurt you in any way. And as to your dignity, you lost that when you flirted with a man who serves me well and loyally."

  “ ‘Twas harmless,” she said.

  “Now, or I do it for you."

  She pried her knees apart.

  “Wider, sweetheart,” the warlord urged, stroking down the inside of her thigh. “Separate your legs. All the way, now. There's a good puss,” he said when her knees were split. “Now there is a very nice sight. Silly to hide behind false modesty, is it not? Especially when you must know that a leman is not allowed such conceit."

  Damn his arrogance! She would show him!

  Turning her face to the wall, she threw her arms defiantly over her head, opened her legs as far as they would go and boldly wiggled her hips. Let them both look! See if she cared.

  “Well, well, well,” said the vassal, Will. “I understand now why you broke with celibacy and defied the King for her. She is a lovely piece. Did she take all of you?"

  “The whole swallow,” the warlord indecently boasted.

  Odd, but rather than feel embarrassed at their joint and intimate perusal of her womanhood, Aeschine grew hot with pleasure.

  She grew even more pleasurably flushed when a digit deftly circled her nether lips. Whose finger was it?

  “The vulva appears enflamed,” Will pronounced.

  “I know that, man! Tell me something I do not know. For example, is she able to have intercourse today?"

  “How many men are involved?” Will asked.

  Her captor took no offence; indeed, he chuckled. “You wish it, you crafty scoundrel. But she is all for me."

  Will lowered his voice, but she heard him anyway. “The clitoris is a plump little nubbin. She must go off for you every time."

  “She has not missed yet.” A prideful chuckle here.

  They talked about her as though she were not even in the chamber!

  She was about to call the both of them on it, but then someone started to gently minister to the top of her notch.

  She squirmed, licked her lips. “Mmm."

  “The passage is extraordinarily damp,” Will quickly pointed out.

  Oh, God! Weather was damp. She was wet! Dripping with her own juices. And both men knew it! Sod them!

  Her passage was probed then. With one finger. Then two. Her bud of pleasure was unhooded and rubbed with a thumb. She felt only relief when her bottom was cupped in a warm palm and a digit was inserted deep into her back opening. She could not prevent a purr from escaping when that digit moved in and out of her.

  “Oh, aye,” she groaned. “Oh, aye, aye, aye."

  When another finger was seductively drawn across her mouth, a feathery stroke, she gratefully opened her lips and latched onto it. She sucked on it, up to the knuckle, and then took it down her throat.

  All of her orifices were now penetrated. Multiple fingers moved in and out of her, and she still wished for more.

  Arching up off the bed, she offe
red up her teats; they needed attention too.

  Her nipples were pulled. Then pinched. Very, very hard. A hot mouth came down and bit one. Then the other.

  She writhed in abandonment, falling, falling into the swirling abyss. She was coming and there was no way to stop the rush of sensation.

  “Let it happen,” two voices chanted.

  It was too much! She screamed her release at the top of her lungs.

  Upon recovering, Aeschine opened her eyes and glared at both men.

  Who were not looking at her at all, but at one another, man to man.

  “She is well worth the break with the King.” The vassal complimented his warlord.

  Sage grinned from ear to ear. “Did I not tell you?"

  The gloating beasts!

  “I see no reason why she may not have intercourse today,” Will said, ignoring her and speaking directly to his lord. “Although the labia majora and the labia minora are very swollen and enflamed, there are no tears. A herbal douche administered over the chamber pot will give her some relief for the tenderness."

  “Then certainly you must do it. Though later,” he added. “After I am done with her."

  “Very well.” He nodded. “And she is clean, milord. I see no signs of disease in the vagina or anus."

  “Considering that LaTourne is a known sodomite, that is excellent news,” Sage replied.

  “Milord, the lady is extremely healthy. Obviously, she has no difficulty achieving orgasm. And since a woman who easily climaxes is usually easily bred, you should have no trouble getting her with child. I also believe, after checking the width of her pelvis, that she should have no problem delivering you a son."

  “I am not seeding her."

  “Oh! Excuse the presumption, milord. Then, she will have need of pessaries. Once the barrier is in place, you may enjoy her more fully."

  “Thank you, Will. Please see that as well."

  “Of course. Today, may I suggest no more than a few vaginal penetrations? Stay on the conservative side—no more than three. If you require more, you might consider sodomy. You are built on a large scale, but I certainly see no reason for you not to try anal intercourse. A tincture of oil will make it easier for her to receive you in the buttocks. Anoint her with it prior to penetration and coat your phallus as well. Take your time over the entry. Since LaTourne already had her that way, why abstain? Her mouth should easily accommodate you, as well."

  Will placed his hands on her teats. “These are small."

  “I have no complaint,” Sage interjected.

  “Very well. I believe that covers everything. Next whore examination is in a month's time.” The vassal bowed.

  “You may close up your legs now, Aeschine” Sage said, and offered her his hand to help her rise from the bed. “And thank you, Will. That will be all. You may leave us now."

  Once again alone, Aeschine raised her pinkened face to his. “I am sorry. It just happened."

  “No need to apologize. Will has a deft touch where ladies are concerned. All the whores climax during the examination."

  “My joy had naught to do with Will. I found my joy in you."

  “If you say so.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  “Why will you not believe me?"

  “Because what happened just now will happen with any man who puts his hands on you. It is your nature, Aeschine."

  “Better to have a hot nature than a cold one!” she cried as she paced the room, trying to gather her thoughts together.

  This was not the best of times to mention this, not after what had just happened, but though it was both impetuous and inopportune, she knew if she did not say the words now, right this very instant, they may never get said. And say them she must!

  Aeschine walked back to her captor.

  Shoulders squared, she stood directly before him. “'Tis because I am not cold that I must speak what is in my heart, though discretion would have me wait.” She cleared her throat. “I must, right now, extend my deepest sympathy to you for the loss of your wife. I am so very sorry for her death. I hate this constant strife between our people. I pray every night for it to end."

  “Joan was raped, tortured. After defiling her, the monsters killed her. So, thank you for the fine sentiment, but I would much prefer you named names than extend sympathy."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  His leman stubbornly shook her head.

  “Your earlobes are like seashells,” he whispered, taking her into his arms, his chin atop her head. “Mine are not so pretty, but in their favor, they come with a sound lock and key. Once a secret is whispered within, it never escapes. Tell me who is responsible."

  “I am a Scot unto death,” she said, and started to weep. “Do you really think me involved in that invasion?"

  “Nay,” he said uneasily. “But you are hiding something, and I wish you would trust me enough to tell me what that something is. I wish that you would cast the blame where it belongs, and I wish to God that you would give me the information I need to clear your name with my King. Until you do, there will remain a shadow of doubt o'er your head."

  “Do not talk to me of shadows! You live in the realm of shadows."

  “And your world is so full of sunlight that the brightness blinds me to my responsibilities."

  “My world is not so bright any more."

  “This dark day too will pass.” He kissed her temple. “I think you are the most courageous woman I have ever known. Also the most foolish. Your sense of honor may yet cost you your life. That said, I cannot help but admire your integrity.” He stroked her back.

  She melted into him. “I am a coward."

  “Brave."

  “I got down on my knees to DuFont. I thought I would never kneel, save to pray to God.” She sobbed. “My cowardice shames me. If I were truly brave, I would have chosen death over life when you captured me."

  “Never say you would choose death over life, no matter what the terms. Death lasts forever whilst this day will soon recede in your mind."

  She sniffed back the rest of the seepage. “I did not mean to give way like this."

  Out of respect for her pride, Sage put the warrior-woman aside so that she might recover her lost composure. While she fought to restore her slipped dignity, he stripped to the skin.

  Aeschine was lovely in the flesh. On a good day, he barely looked civilized. On a bad day, he looked the barbarian. Did his scarred appearance frighten her?

  He sought to set her mind at ease. “I have lived my life as a warrior, and that occupation shows in my every scar, muscle, tear, and dent. I was built for battle, but I swear to you, I will keep the peace here and I will spill as little blood as possible whilst doing so."

  “I believe you,” she said simply.

  She believed him...

  His shoulders relaxed. He had not realized they were tense.

  Sage harkened back to Joan, to their marriage, arranged for political expediency. They had been friends for years before they wed and they remained friends after the vows were spoken, but they had never shared true closeness. Not the way a husband and wife should enjoy intimacy. He had never washed before his wife. Or, even cast off all of his garb. He had certainly never been naked in front of her the way he was naked with Aeschine. Their conjugal times had been few and rushed. Uncomfortable for her. Unsatisfying for him. Ten years his elder, his wife's hair was already salted with gray on the day they wed. Joan had also been of a serious mindset. After digging two husbands into the ground before him, she had grown weary of the marital bed. Understanding his wife's weariness and his own daunting size, he had placed relatively few demands on her, other than to occasionally lift aside the shift she had always worn to bed whilst he tried to sire the child they both wished to conceive. Marital relations were a duty for both of them, not a pleasure, and they were too honest with one another to pretend otherwise...

  Aeschine had screamed her pleasure in his arms. Each sound, each groan, each moan, each quickening of he
r breath, aroused him. His erection rose like a stubborn lance from its coarse nest of back curls whenever he was near her or even thought about her.

  “Ignore it,” he told the staring lady.

  “ ‘Tis not possible to ignore a broadsword when one faces it. My goodness,” she said, with an audible gulp. “How did that ever fit inside me?"

  “With some difficulty,” he quipped.

  She laughed too.

  “I promise never will I force myself on you, for I understand about feeling helpless. I suffer black moods,” he said, confessing his weakness for the first time to anyone. “My dreams terrorize me so much that I dread sleep. Nights are a source of constant humiliation."

  He reached a hand to her. “You cannot help the way your body reacts to mine any more than I can help the way my body reacts to you. We are both trapped in this snare together. I would free you, but your only safety lies with me."

  “And your need for revenge? What of that?"

  He drew in a labored breath. “I will have justice for my wife's death. So aye, revenge is part of it, but not the only part. Believe me, I do not wish to feel this way. I do not wish to mix you up in my rage against LaTourne. Unfortunately, you are there in the thick of it. My life would be far simpler if I could separate you from the past. You make my blood rush hot, Captive. I desired you from the very first moment I saw you. And now, knowing you have lain with a perverted killer, I would have everything you gave him."

  Finished with his drying, he went to dump the cooling water in the garderobe.

  “Love matches are made only in sonnets,” she called after him. “I heard you say, you are cousin to LaTourne..."

  “I cannot lie: The pervert is my kinsman."

  “I see. Well, your cousin paid a tidy sum to my stepfather for me, but there was no affection between us."

  Sage gave Aeschine his full attention. Would she make any more admissions about her past...?

  “However, LaTourne paid for a docile wife, and humility is not my strong suit."

  Sage walked back to her. His firm lips quirked in mirth. “I did notice..."

  Aeschine shuddered. “Your cousin enjoyed making his bedmates scream in pain."