When Rianna was naked Chang pulled her over to the nearest gilded tentpost, fastening her hands to it, stretching her arms so tight above her head that she was barely able to keep her heels on the ground. As he stepped away from her, Niska moved forwards, holding a fine silver chain which she fastened tightly around Rianna’s slim waist. There was another chain fastened to it at the front, which hung down over Rianna’s belly. She tensed as Niska threaded the trailing chain between her thighs, lodging it in the narrow crack of her sex, pulling it so tight it almost split Rianna in two as it was fastened to the middle of the chain in the small of her back.
The cold links pressed tightly against Rianna’s clit and dug into her nether mouth. The sensation was humiliating, yet subtly arousing as Rianna was fastened to the post by a piece of rawhide cord wrapped around her waist, close to the straining chain. The post separated Rianna’s bosom, pushing her breasts lewdly out either side of the gilded pole. Her pussy and buttock cheeks closed around the chain until it was barely visible at all. It dug into the entrance of her arsehole and caused a constant chafing pressure on her clit.
‘You may play with her for a minute, Tanith,’ Niska said. ‘While I select her instrument of punishment.’
Tanith giggled as she circled Rianna, looking her up and down like a child who’d just been presented with a new toy. She touched Rianna’s breasts, stroking and squeezing them roughly. Her fingers caught hold of Rianna’s nipples and rolled them between finger and thumb, rubbing and pulling at them until they hardened. She concentrated on them so intently that they soon reddened and became sore from the constant stimulation. Smiling cruelly at Rianna she dug her fingers in the abused teats, watching her victim struggle to hide her discomfort.
‘My lady enjoys inflicting pain and so do I,’ she confided, her hand caressing Rianna’s hip. She wedged her finger under the tightly drawn chain and pulled, making it cut cruelly into Rianna, forcing from her a moan of painful pleasure. The heat in her belly increased, mingling with the constant straining pressure on her clit, and Rianna raised herself on her toes as if it would somehow relieve the cutting fire lancing through her.
‘Step back, Tanith, you may play again later,’ Rianna heard Niska say. Tanith’s mouth drooped with disappointment, but as she stepped back she slapped Rianna’s breasts hard in a last defiant gesture.
Niska came into Rianna’s view, not carrying a switch or a whip, just a wide flat wooden paddle covered on one side with soft green leather. Niska slapped it against the side of her hip and it made a sharp cracking sound that turned Rianna cold with fear.
Sarin sighed in his sleep, dreaming of the past: of his palace in Aguilar, of Tarn and of Rianna. The dream was so vivid that when he awoke he did not know where he was for a moment. Not until he saw Zene’s body curled up in a foetal position beside him.
‘It’s time to wake.’ He blew softly on her cheek. She sighed and rolled over to nestle lovingly against him, her small breasts pressed to his bare chest, her left leg twined around his.
‘No, tis time for pleasure.’ She kissed the warm skin of his chest, her lips nuzzling at his flat brown nipples. Sarin smiled as he felt her hand stroke his penis, caress his balls, then brush tantalisingly against the ultra-sensitive ridge just behind the soft sack. Zene had learned swiftly, and she was becoming an expert in the art of seduction.
Sarin held the soft fragrant-smelling woman hard against him, enjoying the feeling of closeness. His libido was always at its zenith at this time in the morning and his dreams had already half-aroused him, while Zene was doing the rest. He pressed his hips to hers, pulling her leg further up his thigh as he eased his engorged cock into the moist channel of her sex. Zene gave a soft groan as he angled his entry so that his cock-head stimulated her most sensitive spot.
‘Wonderful,’ she murmured, clutching hold of his shoulders as he began to thrust into her.
Sarin gave a soft groan in reply as he thrust vigorously, his hands clutching firmly at her arse. Zene’s teeth nipped his neck as he pumped harder, grinding his pelvis against hers until his pleasure peaked, then erupted. As she climaxed, Zene gave a loud scream that no doubt woke any of the soldiers in the camp who were still asleep. Sarin chuckled and stilled her scream with his lips until the trembling of her limbs ceased and she lay replete and contented in his arms.
Sarin was still smiling as he cleansed himself with a damp cloth and put on his clothes. It felt good to be rid of the heavy metal cuffs around his wrists. Yesterday one of the soldiers had managed to break open the remains of the manacles he’d worn since leaving Freygard. Running a hand through his dishevelled hair, he stepped out of his tent and paused to fasten his doublet.
The soldiers inclined their heads deferentially, but Sarin was certain he could see jealousy in their eyes. No other man in the camp had the pleasure of a woman to warm his bed at night.
Sarin forgot their presence as he caught sight of a man standing by the campfire staring morosely into the distance, his long blond hair moving slightly in the breeze. It was a chill morning but he stood there dressed only in tight-fitting breeches and high boots. Sarin caught his breath; he’d always thought that Tarn was the handsomest man he’d ever laid eyes on, and his beauty had not diminished since they’d parted in Percheron. Despite all the enmity between them, Sarin still desired Tarn. He had lusted after the handsome youth ever since Tarn had arrived as a hostage in Aguilar. When Tarn had been returned to him as a captive, Sarin had forced him to become his pleasure slave, and had been able to slake his lust on him at last. But their union, and the satisfaction Sarin had derived from it, had always been followed by a bitter aftertaste. Sarin wanted Tarn to come to him willingly, but he doubted that was ever possible. He desired Tarn the man, yet he was far from at ease with Tarn the monarch. There was a fierce determination in Tarn now that had been far less prevalent in the past.
Tarn’s eyes held just the faintest glimmer of amusement as Sarin approached him. ‘You’ve not changed have you, Sarin?’ he said with a twisted grin. ‘You appear to have been keeping Zene very busy.’
‘Now that she’s discovered how pleasurable coupling with a man can be she is insatiable,’ Sarin said with a shrug of his shoulders.
‘I remember her when I was in Freygard,’ Tarn commented as a soldier handed Sarin a bowl of thick, glutinous-looking oatmeal. The food wasn’t to his taste but it kept the hunger at bay.
‘You do?’ Sarin forced down a spoonful of salty porridge. He had spoken to Zene about Tarn but she claimed she barely remembered him at all.
‘I was in the stables working when Zene and her friends came upon me. They decided to try out their newest slave. They held me down in the straw and Zene . . .’ Tarn paused as if he’d said too much.
‘Zene what?’ Sarin felt suddenly jealous that Zene had desired Tarn before him.
‘Isn’t that obvious?’ Tarn said awkwardly as his blue eyes focused on the mountains again. ‘We should be leaving. We still have a long way to travel. Every moment that passes leaves Rianna in even greater peril.’ He sighed. ‘I only wish I knew how she was faring.’
Leon was thinking the selfsame thing as he strode through the camp towards Niska’s tent. He had just heard that Chang and his men had found Lady Rianna and brought her safely back to the camp. Leon had no idea what had possessed her to run off.
He had woken early this morning with a foul taste in his mouth and a pounding head. His body felt bruised, it ached in unmentionable places and he felt disgusted with his own behaviour. Both the Nubians had already left the tent but the smell of them and the odour of sexual depravity still clung thickly to both him and Niska.
Unable to face the woman he adored until he’d mulled over all that had occurred the night before, Leon dressed and went outside. Some of the men were preparing to go hunting for game and Leon decided to join them, thinking that the thrill of the chase would help clear his head.
When they’d eventually returned laden with fresh meat, the rest of the
ir party was already preparing to depart. Leon had rode along behind the rest of the men deciding not even to tell Niska about his plans to take Lady Rianna to Nemedia and leave her there. The large town was less than ten leagues away by his calculations and once the deed was done it would not be easy for Niska to take Rianna back. Why that thought should cross his mind he didn’t know.
When they had stopped briefly to water the horses, Leon had made his way to the baggage wagon to acquaint Lady Rianna of his plans. He had opened the canvas flap to find no sign of the noble lady. Niska had been horrified to discover Rianna had disappeared and had sent Chang and a small group of men to find her.
During the long wait many of the men had idled away their time gambling and drinking, while others had set about cleaning and sharpening their weapons. Leon paused as he noticed one man with frizzy red hair lovingly polishing a sword with an ornate silver hilt. The weapon was so familiar to Leon that his heart missed a beat. Recovering his composure he paused and said casually, ‘That’s a fine sword. Where did you get it?’
‘I paid twenty gold pistoles for it,’ the man replied, running his grimy fingers up and down the highly polished blade. ‘I purchased it from him!’ he informed Leon, pointing to a tall burly-looking mercenary who was talking to Hordo. Leon recognised him as one of a small band of Chang’s most trusted men. ‘Spoils of war. It belonged to a nobleman that he killed with his bare hands.’
‘Can I inspect the blade?’ Leon asked.
His hand shook a little as he took the weapon and turned it over to examine the all too familiar crest carved in the hilt. The weapon had been a gift to Gavid from his father. Gavid treasured it so much he never let it out of his sight.
‘It’s a fine blade,’ Leon remarked, filled with indescribable pain, as he handed the sword back to its new owner.
The man nodded and resumed polishing the weapon while Leon strolled casually over to where the horses were tethered. At the rear were a number of spare mounts and all his suspicions were confirmed when he found the roan with a white star-shaped blaze on its nose.
‘Easy, Castor,’ Leon muttered as he ran his hands over Gavid’s mount. It appeared unhurt. Then he found the raised line on its left flank beneath its thick winter coat. It was a half-healed wound, which certainly had not been there before Gavid had left the camp. Leon now knew without a doubt that his friend was dead, butchered by Niska’s men just like all his other missing soldiers.
Chapter Eight
FILLED WITH GUILT, anger and immense pain, Leon stormed into Niska’s tent, roughly shoving aside the mercenary who tried to bar his way.
‘Niska what the . . .’ he faltered in utter amazement as he saw Rianna, naked, tied to a post being beaten by Niska. ‘By the gods!’ he yelled, rage consuming him.
Leon pulled Niska away from Rianna, slapped her hard across the face and threw her roughly to the ground with such force that she crashed into a brass-topped table. Niska was so confounded she just lay there as Leon drew a dagger from his belt and cut Rianna’s bonds. She collapsed limply in his arms. Draping his cloak around her, he lifted her and carried her from Niska’s tent. Rianna was too distressed to say anything as Leon carried her into her own tent and laid her gently on her mattress.
‘Forgive me,’ he mumbled, filled with such a multitude of emotions he felt he might explode. His stomach contracted as he stared down at Rianna’s beautiful tear-stained face. How could he ever have allowed himself to believe all the terrible things Niska had said about her?
Leon felt even more guilty when Rianna smiled and said with relief, and not a trace of enmity, ‘Thank the gods you are alive.’ She tenderly touched his face. ‘I feared you were dead.’
‘My mind was for a long time,’ he admitted painfully. Niska had told him so many lies and it was difficult to sort truth from fiction. ‘Forgive me, my lady. I’ve been such a fool.’ He saw Rianna wince as she moved and added worriedly, ‘How badly are you hurt?’
‘My pride as much as anything else,’ she said with a sad smile. ‘If Niska had wanted to do me real harm she would have used a whip.’
‘Let me see.’ Rianna showed no false modesty as Leon unwrapped the cloak and examined her abused back and buttocks. ‘The flesh is red and inflamed but unbroken.’
‘I’ll heal soon enough, no doubt,’ she said with a faint catch in her voice. ‘She’ll not want me permanently damaged. She intends to present me as a gift to her brother, Ragnor.’
Leon began to feel sick to his stomach. His lust for Niska had blinded him completely. He stared down at Rianna’s damaged flesh, thinking that her vulnerability made her look even more beautiful. She had a warmth and kindness that was absent in Niska. He remembered the sight of her naked and helpless, bound to the post, and the heat grew stronger, filling his loins with desire.
It was only then that he noticed the chain fastened tightly around Rianna’s waist and the other chain coming from it that disappeared between her buttock cheeks and surfaced just above her slit. Rianna tried to sit up, shivering as the chain cut into her even more. Leon’s lust expanded; the sight of that chain, half-hidden by her private parts, sent him wild with desire. ‘Can you remove it, please,’ Rianna begged. ‘The cutting pressure is driving me insane.’
Leon gently undipped it at the back, but it was clasped so tightly between her buttock cheeks that he rolled her on to her back and eased open her thighs. ‘I’ll be gentle,’ he said as he pulled open her pussy lips to remove the metal, which was warm and moist with her secretions. He saw the shape of the links imprinted on her succulent pink flesh. The need to possess her, and wipe away her pain consumed his thoughts. ‘What did she do to you?’ he asked, tossing the chain aside. ‘Did she hurt you here as well?’ He brushed his fingertips gently across one red, swollen nipple and Rianna gave a soft, breathy sigh. Leon was unable to resist leaning forwards and licking it, anointing it with his spittle before he pulled it into his mouth.
‘Leon,’ Rianna weakly protested, but she made no attempt to push him away.
Leon’s skin tingled with excitement as he caressed Rianna, feeling her tremble as he ran his hands over her naked body. When he caressed her belly, her thighs rolled open as if she wanted him to touch her there. He told himself he was purely comforting her, while his traitorous fingers slid into the soft moistness of her pussy. His fingers brushed her tortured clit and Rianna gave a soft moan, lifting her hips up towards Leon as he stroked the aching nub.
He couldn’t deny Lady Rianna what she so clearly wanted, Leon decided, as he willingly allowed lust to overtake his conscious thoughts. Continuing to stimulate her, he pulled his breeches open with the other hand. She didn’t move, just lay there trembling, her eyes closed as he positioned himself between her open thighs.
Rianna drew in her breath sharply as he slid his fat cock into her slippery warmth. Supporting himself on his arms, he thrust deeper while his lips returned to her swollen teats. Rianna’s hips moved in unison with his as he powered into her hard and fast. They were both fired with a wild passion that had forced them to seek solace in each other’s arms.
He climaxed quickly, and Rianna followed him, desperately rubbing her clit, a soft sighing word escaping her lips. ‘Tarn,’ she murmured as though she’d been making love to him.
Leon was filled with so much guilt he could barely breathe as he withdrew from her. His mind was in turmoil but one overwhelming thought was clear in his mind: they had to leave, both of them, right now.
‘We must make ready to depart . . .’ He faltered as Chang strode into the tent.
Chang’s inscrutable expression did not change as he saw Leon agitatedly fasten his breeches and Rianna cover herself.
‘The baroness wishes to speak to you, Captain Leon,’ Chang said coolly. ‘She appears somewhat upset,’ he added.
Leon turned to look at Rianna, hoping she would know exactly what he was thinking. ‘My lady?’
‘Go now,’ she said, staring at him with understanding. ‘As quickl
y as you can.’
‘Are you certain?’ he asked, bowing. ‘I’ve no wish to desert you at such a time. However, I will be back as soon as I can.’
‘I know you will, Leon,’ she said softly as her eyes glittered with the suspicion of unshed tears.
‘You should not keep the baroness waiting,’ Chang pointed out as he casually cleaned his nails with the point of his dagger.
Rianna silently mouthed, ‘God speed,’ at Leon as he gave her one last reassuring smile.
He left the tent certain that Rianna knew he intended to try and make a run for it while he still could. She was guarded closely but for the time being he was not. He had to find help, then come back and rescue Rianna. After what had occurred, Niska was most probably furious and would no longer place any trust in him. Anyway, he doubted he could stay and manage to hide from her the fact that he now knew the full truth of her perfidy. In truth he had no wish to ever lay eyes on her again – because of his foolish desire for her Gavid and most of his men were dead.
As he passed by another tent, he picked up a cloak someone had left there and made for the horses. Niska was bound to send men after him, but he had to evade them and find a way to reach Prince Tarn. Praying he would succeed, Leon mounted his horse and cantered off into the forest.
Rianna’s thoughts had been with Leon for the last three days. There had been no sign of him, or the men Niska had sent after him. She was determined not to give up hope, but it was fading fast now, especially as she was sitting opposite Niska in her coach driving into Ragnor’s stronghold. It had taken them most of those three days to navigate the icy mountain paths and enter Vestfold – a land ruled by barbarian warlords who had the power of life and death over all who served them.
Rianna had expected to see a castle, perhaps surrounded by a village, but the reality was far different. Ragnor’s stronghold was set in a fertile valley close to the side of a massive lake. The place was huge; farms surrounded by fields and at its centre a village almost big enough to be classed as a town. High banks topped by a wooden wall surrounded the entire settlement and it was guarded by fierce-looking ruddy-complexioned warriors dressed in heavy woollen garments and skins. They looked just as threatening in their own way as Niska’s mercenaries.
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