“I still can’t believe it. You were a child.”
“I grew up quickly out of necessity, but my life there wasn’t all bad. I had friends my age and although we worked hard, we did have some time to play. Being separated from mother was the worst of it. Although the woman in charge of the kitchen was rather kind, for a task master that is. She actually sheltered us, as much as she could. I didn’t actually see anything, well, carnal I suppose is the word, until I was of marriageable age.”
“You must have been shocked. I saw a family friend in the act and will never think of him the same.”
“I was. It was after a festive event, such as this, although at the manor, nothing is as circumspect as your wedding breakfast has been. I had come to the hall to collect dishes to wash, several knights and ladies still remained, some weren’t really ladies, I suppose, but all of them were…”
“What?” she asked with both dread and shameful curiosity.
“Swiving.”
“Heavens!” Shocked by what she related, Emilia was also amused at the old-fashioned term. She wondered what Muriel would think about what Corbet called it. That led to thoughts of their wedding night and her mind drifted until her friend called her name.
“Em, are you listening?”
“What? Yes! Or course,” she demurred, “you were describing the group, uh, swiving.” This came out louder than anticipated and she blushed, when several heads swiveled her way.
Muriel seemed not to notice and continued on with her tale. “I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The knight closest to me had a lady bent over the dining table, her dress was flipped up in back and she was exposed. From the noise she was making, I thought he was beating her. Upon closer look, he was taking her from behind. I was shocked that she seemed to enjoy it so, more so when she spun around when he was done plowing her, and of her own free will took him in her mouth. I never imagined.” Her cheeks were tinged with pink as she gave her a sidelong glance. “Mother won’t discuss such things, so I daren’t ask, but you’re wed now, Em. Why would she do that?”
“This is hardly something we should be discussing, here, or ever.”
“If you don’t tell me, how will I ever learn? It’s not like I could read it in a book.” With that she gave her a quelling look.
“Oh, Muriel,” she said contritely. “I haven’t forgotten our deal, it’s just—”
“I’m teasing, Em. You have been rather busy.”
She smiled, shaking her head at the understatement, but returned to her question. “I promise to fulfill our bargain; as far as learning the other, your husband will teach you what you need to know.”
Her curiosity reignited. “Has Corbet taught you, to uh… you know, lick him?”
“Muriel! By the saints,” Emilia exclaimed, pressing her hands to her flaming cheeks.
She shrugged. “Men like that, I suppose; the knight certainly seemed to. There were others there too, doing other things. If truth be told, there was so much going on that was so shocking that it was hard for me to take it all in at once.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
“Because I was curious to know about men and women, and it made me tingle in the spot between my legs. So, I knelt behind a drape and watched. I couldn’t look away. One woman was put on the table on all fours and spanked until her bottom was bright red. She cried out for the man to smack her harder and then to, well, she used a word mother told me never to say. The man hopped up behind her and did as she asked, sticking his rod in her from behind while another man used her mouth. Her cries of pleasure, though muffled by his, well…” Muriel looked at her meaningfully before she continued. “She wanted what they were doing to her, Em, and was enjoying it by the sound. As did the woman who was crying out as a man kissed her… there. And the one who was bent over the back of one of the high-back dining chairs and lashed with her master’s belt. I was shocked that she wasn’t crying and begging him to stop; instead she spread her legs and thanked him when he lashed her between them. Another man had a slave, I could tell by her collar. What he did was the most shocking of all.”
Emilia knew she shouldn’t, that it was wrong to listen to Muriel’s wicked tale, but she heard herself asking, “What did he do?”
“He had her laid out on her back and was dripping hot wax from the beeswax pillars onto her nipples. The way she writhed before him, arching her back for more was astonishing.”
Thinking on how Corbet pinched her nipples, sometimes quite hard, or the sting of his spankings and the bite of the cane, she’d often questioned why she found it enjoyable, and how pleasure bordered with pain. Not any longer. She had accepted that for her, that’s just how it was, at least with Corbet whom she trusted and loved. Apparently, she wasn’t alone in her predilection, which was comforting to know. But hot wax?
“She was enjoying that?”
“Yes,” Muriel murmured. “I was as shocked as you. I would have thought it would burn; however, with the candle held high the wax hardened almost instantly when it landed.”
“Perhaps it cooled quickly?”
“It must have because she parted her legs and he poured it on her mound next. Her cries weren’t ones of pain, Em.”
“Oh, my…”
“Yes, that was my reaction,” she laughed. “I know harsh treatment went on there, but from what I saw that night, those women reveled in what was done to them, and after that, I couldn’t keep the thoughts of a handsome knight doing such things to me out of my head.”
“That is natural, I think. I had wicked thoughts about Corbet.”
“Pouring hot wax on your nipples?”
“Heavens, no!”
Muriel got quiet for a moment. “I don’t think mother enjoyed any of it. Lord Ervin is exceedingly cruel.”
“Alice should be compensated for what she had to endure.”
“That’s not likely to happen.”
“And Ervin should be whipped, or made into the pleasure slave to some fat old man as recompense.”
“Em, the image of that is beyond horrifying.”
They stared at each other for a moment, their faces twisted into a horrified grimace, then collapsed into fits of giggles, which grew until they were leaning against one another howling at the idea.
“What has you two so amused?”
“It’s not good by the way they’re blushing, I’ll hazard.”
They glanced up to see Corbet and her brother Bertrand standing in front of them.
“Simply girl talk, husband,” Emilia assured him.
“Hmm, not gossip, I hope.”
“Oh, no, I’ve learned my lesson about that.”
“I should think so.” He held out his hand, smiling gently. “The impromptu entertainers are ready to pack up. I got them to agree to one more song so I could dance with my bride.”
She rose gracefully with a smile upon her face. “I should enjoy that very much, sir.” Taking his arm, she stopped beside Bert. “Ask Muriel to dance, brother. I hate to leave her all alone.”
“What did you suppose was my intent on coming over here, sister?”
She grinned, seeing the moon-eyed expression that encompassed her friend’s face as she looked up at her tall, handsome brother. Dragging her feet so she could listen and watch what transpired between the pair had Corbet losing his patience. He gave her hand a tug so that she fell into his arms. “Is your matchmaking more interesting than a wedding dance with your groom?”
Emilia laughed as he spun her into a quick twirl. “Never, but they do make a fine-looking couple.”
“Now that you’ve found your happiness, you want to spread it far and wide, I assume.”
“Naturally, I am a true romantic.”
He pulled her close as he slowed their twirling. “Thank heaven you didn’t lose that to Lancore.”
“With a hero swooping in and rescuing me, how could I?”
He bent his head to take her lips in a kiss. Before they could touch, a commotion at the door
caught his attention.
“Master Corbet!” The figure rushing in was Charles and he was followed closely by Alard, who announced loudly into the hush of the lingering crowd, “Men traveling on the eastern road have sent word that a contingent of knights is approaching. With them is a well-dressed lord. He’s portly, balding, and described as having a nasty disposition.”
“It’s Lord Ervin!” Emilia cried in distress. “We must flee.”
“How many knights?” Corbet demanded as his hand curled around her neck in a calming gesture. It didn’t work.
“Twelve strong,” came the answer.
Corbet turned to Emilia’s father. “How many men have you here?”
“At least three times that.”
“I like those odds,” he replied with a humorless smile.
“No, Corbet,” she beseeched him with rising panic. “Let’s go away. I can’t lose you.”
He pulled her into his chest, tipping his face down to ask blithely, “Have you so little faith in your hero husband?”
“Against Lancore’s ruthless mercenary knights made more vicious from their service to Lancore, yes.”
“She doesn’t mean to insult,” her brother said from behind them, seemingly unperturbed. “Because we work with our hands at other tasks, Emmy forgets we train and provide service to our earl and the crown when called up. You’ll have to work on that hero worship, brother.”
“I intend to, Bert. As soon as I dispatch an evil earl who has been a burr beneath my saddle for entirely too long.” He looked around at the gathering of men. “Who’s with me?”
A cheer went up from Corbet’s two apprentices, a host of the neighbors, and the Selkirk men, her two brothers and father amongst them.
“How can you laugh and cheer?” she demanded. “Ervin isn’t coming to toast our nuptials, you know. He aims to hang you and enslave the rest of us.”
Corbet angled her face up to his. “We can’t live our lives in fear and on the run, Emilia. I want to end this here and now.”
“We have only minutes to prepare,” Alard advised.
Her papa added, “To the armory, men. Women and children upstairs to the solar and lock yourselves in.”
“I want at least six men to stand guard,” Corbet insisted.
“Agreed.” Her papa gave her mama a kiss then followed the other men to the door.
Corbet pressed a brief albeit passionate kiss on her lips, and then turned to follow the others. But she clung to him, the feeling of dread she’d had since leaving Lancore now overwhelming.
“Please,” she begged. “I’m afraid this will end badly for all of us.”
“Be brave for me, sweetling,” he urged, giving the hand on his arm a reassuring squeeze. “They’re outnumbered three to one. In an hour, maybe less, we’ll truly be free of Lancore and Lord Ervin.”
“Corbet.”
“To the solar, wife,” he ordered. “Where I know you’ll be safe.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
They never made it to the solar, however. Lord Ervin, proving he was smarter than anyone gave him credit for, had split his men and sent half by another route. They arrived first and surrounded the hall, trapping them inside, including the king who was furious.
“How dare they attack their monarch!” he roared. “This is treason. I’ll have that fool Ervin hanged.” His face had turned ruddy from his towering rage.
“Hand over Mills and his slave girl, and we won’t fire the hall,” Ervin shouted from outside.
Nordman turned to his captain. “Send word that I am inside and if he wants to die with his head attached, he will cease this hapless attack.”
The captain and two of his men strode to the door. They were greeted with a shower of arrows. “Imbeciles,” the captain thundered. “Counterattack, men. Make them regret the day they attacked their sovereign king.”
The other six royal guards who had been inside with the king divided, two following the others out the front door with a bone-chilling battle cry, while the other four exited from the rear.
Corbet took charge of the others inside. “How many sword arms have we?”
As hands were raised, Emilia counted only four.
“Guard the women and the king,” he ordered them. “The rest of us will make our way to the armory for weapons.”
“It’s down a short hallway in back. This way,” Alard shouted. Emilia watched in horror as her husband, brothers, and father, as well as family friends, left unarmed. A shiver of panic rushed through her when the door slammed shut behind them with an ominous ring. One of the sword-bearing men took up his position by it, while two guarded the front door; the lone remaining guard had the unfortunate duty of watching the king who railed and cursed, occasionally throwing something in his pique of anger. It would have been humorous to watch the man scurry out of the way of a flying bowl, if fear, stark and smothering hadn’t set up inside her.
An interminable hour of waiting passed while from outside, shouts and unintelligible voices mixed with the clang of clashing swords and rattled the shutters. Emilia could do nothing more than worry and pace. Her heels scuffed across the thick rug and clicked on the hardwood floor as she repeatedly walked the length of the large hall. It was the place where she had spent much of her time as a child. Usually she found comfort surrounded by familiar things and family. Today, however, it was much like a prison and brought her nothing except anxiety and dread.
“What’s taking so long?” she demanded, as if someone in the room knew more that she did. “It’s been an hour.”
“It will take as long as it takes, daughter. Come sit.”
“I can’t.” She strode to the window and peeped through one of the shutters.
“Girl, get away from that window. Immediately.” It was the king giving the order. Her mother also admonished her sternly, both making her feel like a naughty child, instead of a wife who had every reason to worry. As she took a step forward to return to her mother’s side, a loud bang and men’s shouts came from the back hall. With a deafening crash, the door exploded inward and three armed men rushed inside.
The guards engaged them immediately. They were quickly outnumbered as more of Lord Ervin’s men rushed in from behind them. Her father’s men, with Corbet in the lead, broke in from the opposite door and soon the hall was a battlefield. The women grabbed the children and pushed them into a corner, shielding them with their bodies as they huddled together.
Scared out of her wits, she watched as Ervin’s huge mercenary knights loomed over the farmers and artisans who fought bravely in return. To her, it was like David pitted against Goliath, but in time, no more than a quarter hour at best, they had maneuvered the knights so their backs were to the front wall and had cleared a path to the rear door.
“Out,” her father shouted to her mother. “Get up to the solar and barricade yourselves in.”
The king was the first one out the door, his dagger in hand as if he knew how to use it. Emilia hung back, intent on bringing up the rear and making sure everyone was out before her. At the door, she hesitated, directing a worried glance at Corbet, who was driving his opponent back with exceptional skill. Her brothers were holding their own, though she could tell her father’s strength was waning. His sword arm dipped as his huge opponent bore down on him. Fearful for him, she lifted her skirt and removed the dagger she had strapped to her leg without Corbet’s knowledge.
Taking the stance her brothers had taught her, she waited, ready to throw if any of them needed her. When her father slipped in blood on the floor, she saw the other man grin and prepare to lunge. That’s when she let the dagger fly. Her aim true, it found its target, quivering for a moment as her blade protruded from the man’s throat. Her father, who was down on one knee, watched him fall, then his eyes lifted to her and he roared, “Get upstairs, girl.”
Without another weapon it would have been foolish to stay. She also didn’t want to distract her father, since he now knew she was there. She fled. At the bottom
of the stairs, however, her flight came to an abrupt end when she came face to face with the evil earl.
“Well, well, if it isn’t our runaway pleasure slave.” His scathing gaze scanned over her with derision. “Playing dress-up, are we?”
Emilia didn’t reply, whirling in a panic. She took only two steps before white-hot pain seared into her scalp as his hand in her hair yanked hard and he pulled her back. Tears of agony flooded her eyes as he dragged her by the hair down the hall. She gripped his wrists, trying to break his hold, but he was too strong.
Her nails dug into his flesh, next. An ear-piercing squeal filled the hall as he stopped. When he released her, it was to deliver a resounding slap, full force to her cheekbone. Pain exploded in the side of her face as she fell to the floor, clasping her injured cheek.
He bent over her, face mottled with rage. Spittle flew from his mouth as he railed at her. “In Lancore not a month and you have been like a festering pustule on my arse nearly the entire time. I’ve had enough of these games and will claim my right of jus primae noctis, Sara, as was my due eight years ago.”
“You’re insane,” she screamed up at him. “I’m not Sara. She was Corbet’s first wife.”
“Whatever your name, it doesn’t matter.” He grabbed her wrist and started off again, trying every door until he came upon one that was unlocked. He then flung her inside. “This will be fine for my needs. I’m going to plow your belly and fill it with my seed, which will drive Mills insane. Every time he takes you, he’ll know I came there first. Quite literally,” he added with an unquestionably evil laugh.
“You’re too late, Lord Bastard. My husband claimed me first and did it quite well I might add. He’s a man, not a shadow of one like you. You’re nothing but a disgusting worm who has to use threats and the brute strength of your paid minions to make people do what you want. You disgust me.”
“Shut up, wench,” he snarled. “If you’re no longer a dove, I’ll take you anyway. Then when you swell with child in a few months, it will drive him mad wondering who the brat belongs to. That’s even more perfect, to know he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering if his child is his own.”
Innocence Enslaved Page 28