“There is our wayward priestess!” Kres said jovially, pulling his horse up next to her. Ran came up to her opposite side. “You have left your husband in a foul mood, Ilesbet. I pity your hindquarters this day.”
“I agree,” Ran said, shaking his head. “I have not seen him so sour since the day he found the two of us trying to sharpen his sword on the side of a boulder.”
“I trust that neither of you will come to my defense this time, will you?” Ilesbet asked, her lower lip pouting quite prettily, making the two large men wince.
“Please, do not try to convince us to intercede on your behalf. We love you as a sister, but Günter’s anger frightens the waters of hell from our veins,” Kres said, patting her arm. “We all have rules we must obey. And his are absolute. He is not just our brother, but our crown prince.”
“You could, for once, not follow orders and think for yourselves, you know,” Ilesbet argued, frowning as Ran took her mare’s reins in his hand to lead them back.
“We could, but then we would be in as much trouble as you. Not just with Günter, but with Father. They are our sovereigns and…” Ran began.
“They are your brother and your father. Men, like you. Please…”
“Argue as you must, dear Ilesbet. Eventually, you must return home to your family and your discipline,” Kres stated firmly.
“I cannot believe you used your power on Günter,” Ran chuckled. “What I would have given to see the look on his face!”
“Aye, myself as well,” Kres agreed. “It is not often that he is silenced.”
Ilesbet pouted as they walked her horse back to the castle and handed the reins to the ostler. Ran held out his arms to lift her from the horse and gently place her on the ground. He kissed her cheek and departed with a pat on her backside. Kres laughed at the scowl on her face and held out his arm for her to take.
“I will escort you personally to your husband. I trust you will not use your magic upon me, yes?”
“I will not. I give my word,” Ilesbet sighed, feeling him squeeze her hand as they departed the stables. “How is it that you and Ran believe in magic, but refuse to believe in the gods?”
“When I see the gods, then I will believe in them. I doubt not their ability to exist, but am not convinced that they do.”
“It is this lack of faith that is causing the destruction of our world, Kres. Apathy and disbelief is what gives the Darkness its strength.”
Kres did not respond as he considered her words. He continued to lead her through the main hall and nearly collided with the king. “I apologize, Sire,” he said, offering a polite bow and Ilesbet curtseyed. “I did not see you lurking around the corner.”
“Since when is it considered lurking when I peruse about my own home?” King Rufus grinned. “And what trouble might you be in, my darling?”
“What gives you reason to believe that I am in trouble?” Ilesbet asked smartly.
Rufus laughed. “I have seen that expression many times over the years of my life. That, and the fact that my son is clutching your arm tight enough that you cannot escape.”
“I defied Günter and went riding,” Ilesbet admitted, facing the floor.
“And then she called upon her power to prevent him from stopping her,” Kres added humorously.
“My, my…it seems that you will not be joining us at our table this evening then. I will miss your beauty gracing my table. Have you word of my daughter?” the old man asked, suddenly solemn. Ilesbet nodded and shared what knowledge she had, hoping to procrastinate longer to allow Günter more time to calm himself. The old man listened carefully, concern painted over his face as he stared up toward the high ceiling.
“I know my child well,” he said thoughtfully. “She and Günter are very much as I was in my younger days. She will find a way to handle herself and be free of him. I agree that our kingdom is also in danger and we need to prepare for attack. I do not believe that Ethan will allow this insult to his pride go unpunished. Kres, I wish you and Ran to rally the soldiers and advise them to keep ready, and to warn the townsfolk to prepare for the event when Ethan comes upon us.”
“I do not understand, Father,” Kres frowned. “Ethan has Daynel with him. Why would he attack?”
“Because,” Ilesbet intervened, “as your father said, she will find a means to escape him. She knows she does not belong to the southern kingdom and is being called east. She cannot fulfill her destiny as his prisoner.”
“If she has shown any hint of having the power in her, as you suspect, my Ilesbet, then he will want to keep her captive and use her for his own bidding. She is more valuable to him alive than dead, which also means he will become more desperate. He is a cruel, arrogant, and greed-driven man…he will stop at nothing until he gains what he desires. Please do as I say, my son,” Rufus request gently.
“As you command, Sire.” Kres gave a small bow. “Now, if you would please excuse me, but I have an unhappy package to deliver to the crown prince.”
“Go in peace, children. To you, my dear,” King Rufus kissed Ilesbet’s forehead, “I wish that the gods be merciful upon your bottom end.”
“‘Tis not the gods I worry about, Father,” Ilesbet sighed, lifting the edges of her gown as she began to walk with Kres, She bit her lip as the two entered her chambers and saw Günter sitting in wait, his long, white sleeves rolled up past his elbows, and wearing soft, leather leggings and high boots. He nodded his acknowledgement to his brother, who quickly kissed the woman’s cheek and departed without a word.
“Present yourself to me, Ilesbet,” Günter ordered firmly, his eyes narrowed. Ilesbet swallowed, trying to remember the last instance when he was truly angry with her. It had been many years. So many that the memory had been wiped from her mind. She glided toward his chair and knelt at his feet, her head bowed respectfully before him. Her trembling was noticeable and Günter reached to stroke the top of her head.
“I am very disappointed in you, my love,” he said in a deep, soft voice. “I never believed I would see that day when you not only blatantly defied me, but used your powers against me. Did you also enchant my horse so that he refused to pursue you?”
“No, husband. I did not,” Ilesbet whispered, feeling tears pool in her eyes. Günter’s calm demeanor frightened her more than his anger.
“Hmm…for whatever reason, Firestar did not feel it urgent to follow you and rolled me to the ground. You swear you had nothing to do with that?”
Ilesbet hid a smile as she imagined the giant warhorse dumping his rider in the bog. She simply nodded. Günter sighed, standing. He lifted her chin to look up at him, his towering form more intimidating than she could remember. Ilesbet was a tall woman, at 5′8″, yet Günter still loomed over her head as though she were as tiny as the 5′1″ Daynel.
“To the bed, Ilesbet. You will be punished severely this evening, and there will be no pleasure for you, nor will you be allowed to enter the Gates of the gods.”
“Günter…husband…please allow me to explain.”
“Explain what? That you wished something and took it, despite my instructions? That you bound me with air to prevent me from stopping your foolishness? You carry my babes within you as well as yours, and I have never allowed you to ride with nary a one cradled inside of you. Would you believe I would have changed my thoughts knowing that you carried two? And one a female?”
“No, but…”
“But you wanted what you wanted, and decided to take it. Thus, you will now suffer the consequence. I would have ridden with you, wife, upon Firestar. He is the only horse I would trust to protect you and the infants, especially if I was in saddle with you. Now, to the bed.”
Ilesbet flushed, slowly standing. She suspected his discipline would be inventive while she carried a child, sparing all jarring to her womb. She dragged her feet to the edge of the tall bed and waited his direction.
“Remove all your clothing and be quick. Turn and I will untie your laces.”
There
was no seduction in his nimble fingers as he speedily undid the back of her dress, nor was there the typical longing in his eyes as the gown fell to the floor, the mudded edges reminding her of what had transpired. His impersonal stare told her that he only thought of business at hand, and that his heart had been neatly tucked away for after the unpleasant task had been completed.
Ilesbet peeled the chemise from her body, then slowly removed the small clothes and long-legged bloomers that protected her limbs from cold. The room was already warm, thanks to the great, crackling fire that blazed in the hearth, but it did not prevent yet another chill of dread from speckling her bare, pale skin.
Günter gestured to the mattress and waited until Ilesbet sat herself on the edge, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. In silence, he seized her wrists and knotted silk ropes around them. Ilesbet’s heart began to pound, knowing that her punishment was to be severe if he felt the need to restrain her. She suddenly began to regret her actions as he repeated the gesture to her ankles.
“Lay back and keep your feet upon the floor.”
Two tears dripped from the woman’s eyes as she obeyed. He took the ropes attached to her wrists and firmly tied them to the bedposts, spreading her arms wide above her. He then took the ropes adorning her ankles and looped them high over the top frame of the bed, forcing her legs into the air, spread wide and exposing her womanly charms, as well as her bottom, to his full view.
“Günter, please. This position. It’s so…”
“Humiliating? Does it remind you of the position one takes while being swaddled as an infant? Your behavior, wife,” he smacked an exposed, white buttock with his hand, “was as childish as a newborn babe!” He smacked the other cheek sharply, pleased to hear her yelp.
He stepped back to view Ilesbet fully bound, noting that her snow-white globes carried the print of his hand. He produced a tawse and slapped it against his palm, watching as Ilesbet’s eyes widened. The leather instrument was about 18″ in length and was split into three wide tongues of about one inch in width each. A handle adorned the base, obviously made to fit Günter’s large grip.
“Lovely, isn’t it? The saddle master quickly fashioned this for me when he witnessed your obstinance. Smart man, wouldn’t you agree? It is thanks to him that you will not be tasting the birch this day. He voiced concern that a woman carrying a child would struggle too much under the punishment of wood,” Günter said, pacing the room. He paused to glance at Ilesbet’s womanhood. The little wench was wet! Well, he knew that her state of arousal would not last.
“There are several areas of a woman’s body that can take a good thrashing without causing harm to an unborn baby. Do you know what they may be?” he asked, standing between her splayed legs to look down to her face.
“The…bottom?”
“Of course, that is given. And the backs of the thighs.” He ran the tawse along the backs of her legs and then drew it to caress the inner thigh. “And let us not forget the parts of the leg that grip a saddle.”
Ilesbet muttered a protest, seeing his intent. “No, not there…please…”
“It is fact that every place that a saddle may touch can stand significant punishment. From the soft inside of the thighs, clear down to the calves.” He ran the tawse’s tips to trace the full length of her legs. “I will not be striking this, however.” He gently touched her shimmering pussy. He stepped back and lifted the tawse in the air, then sent it flying sharply against the span of her bottom.
“Ow!!” Ilesbet cried aloud, unable to escape the biting impact of the strap as it melted into her flesh. “Günter! Mercy!”
Günter promptly ignored her pleas, lashing her again three times in quick succession, catching the plump globes and the sensitive crease of the upper thigh. Ilesbet screamed out, begging forgiveness. She squirmed unsuccessfully to avoid the next three bites of the tawse and burst into tears.
“Would you like to try your power on me now, wife?” Günter asked calmly, thrashing her again in a sequence of three across the reddening, welted bottom and upper thighs. “Go on and try! Now!”
“No, no, no,” Ilesbet cried out, shaking her head back and forth as she lifted her bottom off the bed in a futile effort. “I am sorry!”
“I am ordering you to use your power on me, wife!” Günter demanded, the tawse catching her bottom cleanly, bringing the color to a deep crimson. “You will obey me. The power can free you, can it not?”
“I can’t,” Ilesbet wailed, her flesh burning from the kiss of the leather. “You know I cannot! Not even if I wanted to!”
“I told you to use your power, Ilesbet,” Günter continued calmly, the tawse etching her another three times.
“You…take…my ability when you strike in threes!” Ilesbet sobbed, trying to catch her breath as the punishment continued. “I cannot enter the Gates when you do so!”
“So when you are spanked in a series of three, you cannot journey in your mind’s eye, can you? How do you think I learned of that?”
“The gods must have instructed you,” Ilesbet cried, panting as he took a small break from her discipline.
He leaned into her. “Yes, as they made me Guardian of Three. They placed the mark of three upon my right arm to bear witness of my promise to be the Watcher of their priestess. Do you recall what each symbol means?”
“The first for Birth, Life, and Death,” Ilesbet sobbed. “The second is to Love, Honor, Obey.”
“And the third, Ilesbet? Tell me what it signifies.”
She continued to weep. “The third is for Faith, Hope, and Trust. Please, forgive me…”
“The gods are displeased with you, wife,” he continued to lecture. “You shall receive six more lashes for your misdeeds. Can you tell me why you shall receive six lashes?”
“Nooooo,” Ilesbet cried.
Her husband sighed. “These are for your defiance against the Three. The first two are for risking the lives of our unborn children; the next two are for failing to show me honor and obedience; and the final two will be for not trusting my judgment and using your power to restrain me. You will receive them here,” he said, touching the insides of her delicate thighs. “Then, after you join us for sup, you will spend the rest of the evening in the privacy of your room, praying and asking the gods to teach you respect and regard for your husband.”
“Günter, I beg of you…owww!” Ilesbet called out as the tawse bit neatly into her inner thigh three times. She howled again as it lashed three more times on the other side, leaving a sting that felt as though it would endure through eternity.
Günter gently untied her wrists and then her legs, lowering her limbs carefully as he gathered her weeping form into his large, protective arms. He cradled her lovingly, rocking her as she cried helplessly through her pain and guilt. Wordlessly, he held her, waiting for her to gather her strength to make reparation for her misdeeds. He was patient, knowing that her punishment had been not only severe, but had prevented her from being lost in the haze of thought and by following the gods’ guidance by striking in threes, it was ensured that she felt every stroke upon her.
“Please, accept my apology,” Ilesbet finally muttered into his warm chest. “I was foolish and am so sorry I caused you grief.”
“You frightened me, my love. Not just with your disregard to your babies, but by your willingness to use your power on me. That can never happen again, understand?”
“Yes, Günter. I see now how it hurt you. I am so sorry,” she sniffed regretfully.
“You are forgiven. By me. You still must seek forgiveness with the gods, however. After you dine.”
“Dine? I do not wish…”
“You will sit and share the meal with the family, and you will do so with grace. I will not have you starving my young ones because you wish to save yourself from embarrassment.”
“Can I not have food brought here?”
“And be coddled by the maids? No. It is decided. Clean yourself up. I will bring you down to the dining hal
l myself when it is time.”
“Günter?”
“Yes, my darling?” He turned to gaze as her.
Ilesbet blushed, looking down. “I love you. I am truly sorry.”
He kissed her lips gently, wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “And I love you, my defiant little wench.”
Chapter Eight
Daynel paced the length of the tiny cabin, trying to determine her next move. She had no illusions, despite the newfound “courtesy” she was being shown, that she was anything more than Ethan’s captive. But how to escape this floating prison? She looked out the small window from which she emptied her chamber pot, and began to form a plan in her mind. The fit would be tight, and the risk high, but Daynel saw it to be the only way to gain freedom. But when? And to where?
Baldric had told her that the Eastern Islands were only accessible by the Great Waters, and had indicated that they would have been taking a ship from the same port on which Ethan was docked. Was there any chance that they would bypass the islands on the way to the southern kingdom? Regretting that she had paid virtually no attention to her tutors in geography, Daynel fell to the second distasteful measure. Prayer.
“I am not to be disturbed for any reason,” she announced to the guard at the door. “I am in prayer and, if disturbed, I have no control over the power,” she lied. The look of the guard’s face convinced her that her tale was believed. She further instructed him that they could leave food inside of her door, but were not to speak or touch her for any reason. She would be covered, Daynel informed them, with a shawl, but her body would be visible to them at all times.
True to her word, Daynel sat cross-legged, in sight of the door, and covered with a large blanket as she prayed. Some meals she ate, others she did not. For four days, she practiced this pattern, waiting for the time when she knew she was to escape. She did pray during this time, asking for a sign…anything to let her know that her time to gain her freedom drew near. On the fourth day, a swallow perched in the window of the cabin. Daynel swallowed back a squeak of excitement. Land was close by!
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