Going into the dayroom she discovered her tray from last night was gone, and in its place was another with a thick slice of brown bread, a wedge of hard yellow cheese, a hard boiled egg and a peach. There was also a carafe of clear spring water to drink. She ate, and then opening the window of the chamber, leaned out to see what she could see in the light of day. The air was warm, and the scent of the Forest was fresh and entirely different from the smells of the City. But she could see naught but leaves. Turning, she looked about the room for something to do. She was bored, and the thought of spending the entire day penned up here was not a pleasant one. Exploring the room she discovered a trunk full of Enda’s clothing, much of it in need of mending. Didn’t his bride-to-be keep his clothing in good repair? She slammed the trunk lid shut. In desperation she took some of the water from the carafe, and her bathing cloth, and cleaned the two little windows in the two rooms.
In midmorning the door opened, and Belda slipped inside, finger to her lips in warning. She beckoned Lara into the bedchamber. “We can talk here,” she said in a low voice. “I came for the tray, so I don’t have a great deal of time. How did you come to remain here? Surely you were meant for a better place in life, Lara.”
“For some reason I neither know or understand the Head Forester and his brother would have me. They paid Rolf Fairplay thirty thousand pieces of gold for me. The trader did all he could to discourage them, even saying I was meant for one of the Coastal Kings. But they were adamant, and would not be denied. But I do not know why they would pay such a sum, Belda.”
The woman shook her head. “Truda says they mean to sacrifice you to one of their Forest gods because you are a high-born virgin.”
“Truda is a fool. I am a mercenary’s daughter, although my father is now a Crusader Knight. I have been poor my entire life. And tonight my virginity will indeed be sacrificed, but to no god—rather it will be sacrificed to the lust of both Enda and Durga. One does not spend that kind of wealth for a religious sacrifice, but let Truda think what she will,” Lara said with a small smile.
“Durga has used her for pleasure already. She thinks that makes her special, and has tried to lord it over us, but Durga’s wife, the lady Sita, slapped her for her presumption,” Belda said. “Now I must go. I was to ask if you needed anything.”
“Two things, if I might be indulged. A real bath so I may wash my dirty hair, and a needle and some thread to do some mending,” Lara told Belda. “I am not used to being idle, and I am bored.”
“I’ll tell the lady Sita. They are not bad, these Forest folk. I’ll be back if I can,” Belda promised, and picking up the tray, left Lara alone again.
To Lara’s surprise, however, Belda returned shortly, bringing with her a small basket containing needles and thread. “The lady Sita sends you this with her compliments. She says she must ask her husband and lord Enda if you may bathe, for you would have to be escorted to the bathhouse.”
“Do they all live in the trees?” Lara asked Belda.
“Nay, only the few lords among them. There is a village below, but you could not see it from the caravan. The trees are like the great walls of a town, or the City.” Then she hurried from the room again.
Lara went to the trunk, and pulling out the most damaged of Enda’s garments, set to work repairing them. The day did not seem so dull now as she sat by a window for light, plying her needle industriously. By late afternoon she had finished the worst of his clothing, and was making minor repairs on the rest of them. She did not hear the door to the chamber open and close, and jumped at the sound of his voice.
“What are you doing? Are those my clothes?” Enda asked her in a hard voice. “Where did you obtain your sewing supplies?”
Lara looked up, calmer now. “You could not expect me to remain here all day without something to do. I found your garments, and asked the woman they sent with my meal for needle and thread. She returned with this basket and the lady Sita’s compliments. Surely you are not displeased with me? I would have thought your betrothed wife would have done this, but perhaps you have not asked her.”
“Tira is the daughter of a great family like mine. She does not do slave’s work,” he answered Lara. Then he picked up one of his shirts, examining it carefully. “This is very good work. I cannot see the stitches,” he complimented her.
“Thank you,” Lara told him. “I am glad if I have pleased you, my lord.”
“There are other ways in which I would have you please me,” he said drawing her into the circle of his arms.
“And so you shall, my lord, I have not a doubt,” Lara said. “I am told I am a good student. I hope I shall prove worthy of your teaching.” She looked up at him but briefly, and then down again, her dark lashes set off by her fair skin, and in vivid contrast with her hair.
“I have not your skill with words, my fair slave girl, but I shall teach you better ways to entertain me. That little tongue of yours will soon discover other talents than speaking cleverly.” He tipped her face up to his. “I am told you would bathe.”
“Aye.” His deep brown eyes were very beautiful, and even mesmerizing. Do not fear the pleasure, she heard the echo of the crystal guardian’s voice.
“You look clean enough to me,” he said.
“I am used to bathing regularly,” she told him. “At least several times a week, my lord. And my hair is filled with the dust of my travels.”
“If I take you to the bathhouse I will remain to watch you,” he replied.
“It is your privilege, my lord,” she answered sweetly.
“Are you always so amenable and mild-tempered?” he wondered.
“Not always, my lord,” Lara said.
“Are you not in the least fearful of losing your virginity tonight?” he demanded.
“I am anxious, aye,” she responded quietly. “What virgin is not? But it is a natural thing, which must happen to all girls, mustn’t it? It is a part of life, my lord. You have said you mean me no harm, and so I have hope that you will be patient and gentle with me.” She gave him a faint smile.
“My brother and I love differently. That is why I have insisted upon being the first with you,” Enda said. “I will be gentle, and I will be patient. I have great hopes of you, Lara. But Durga is a bull of a man. He is likely to be rough and impatient with you in his lust. But remember, I will be by your side, too, and after tonight he must wait several months again before I will share you with him.”
She wanted to ask why he wanted her. Why his brother wanted her. Why they would share her body between them. But he had already warned her away from the subject, and even her crystal guardian had said it was too soon for her to know all. She looked up at him, her green eyes unwavering. “May I have my bath, my lord?”
He nodded. “Yes, come, and I will take you,” he said. Then grasping her small hand in his larger one he led her from his rooms, and from his brother’s great hall. They descended the winding stairs, but this time they stopped at a small landing, and he led her down another flight of steps that went around the huge tree until Lara found herself in a pretty village. The houses all blended into the landscape. They were wood with thatched roofs, which she recognized from her grandmother’s description of country houses. In the central square was a great stone fountain where women were even now drawing water. They looked briefly at her as she passed with Enda. Finally they arrived at a square stone building.
“Og!” Enda shouted. “Where are you?”
“I am here, my lord,” came a voice, and a huge creature shuffled from the dimness. When he straightened himself up, Lara gasped. He had to stand at least six cubits tall. “How may I serve you, master?”
“Stoke the furnace up. My new Pleasure Woman would bathe herself,” Enda said.
Og shuffled away, bending to pass beneath the stone archway.
“I have never seen a creature like that,” Lara admitted. “What is he?”
“The last of the Forest giants,” Enda told her. “They have served us for c
enturies.” He drew her down upon a stone bench. “He will tell us when your bath is ready.” His hands began to fondle her breasts. “I am told a maid’s breasts grow with loving,” he said, and brushed her lips with his. “Tira has almost no breasts at all. I shall have a great deal of work on my hands,” he chuckled, “to give her pretty tits. You, however, have two nice little fruits about the size of summer peaches. I shall attempt to grow them to nice large apples by autumn.” He undid her gown, and slid his hand beneath her chemise, touching her skin with easy fingers. “Do you like it when I touch you, Lara? You must not be afraid to tell me what pleases you as I tutor you in passion.” His thumb rubbed a nipple, and he smiled as it puckered. “Ah, you do like it, don’t you?”
She hid her face in his shoulder. His hands were invasive, but it was exciting.
“They say daughters are like their mothers. If that be true then you will have a deliciously licentious and lascivious faerie nature. They say faerie women enjoy humans because they are more passionate. Is that so, my girl?” he murmured in her ear, nipping the lobe, and licking at it seductively as his fingers tightened about her breast.
“I do not know, my lord,” Lara half gasped. “I have never had a lover.” Why did her blood feel like it was beginning to boil?
“No, little virgin, you haven’t, have you? But tonight I will instruct you in the joys of passion. You are going to like it, I promise you.”
But to what purpose, Lara wondered once again, and then she sighed, which seemed to please him greatly.
“The water is growing hotter by the minute, my lord.” The giant, Og, had returned. He seemed able to stand within the bathhouse, but for the arches.
“There is soap? Drying cloths?” Enda demanded as he loosened his grip on Lara, and drew his hand from her chemise.
“Everything is as you would have it, my lord,” the giant replied.
“Then get out, and do not return until you are certain we are gone. Go and ask for food at my brother’s hall. Tell them I said you were to have it.”
“Thank you, my lord, you are generous,” Og said, bowing, but Lara heard the hint of sardonic rebellion in his voice. The giant withdrew from the bathhouse.
“He sleeps here,” Enda said. “It is the only place in the village large enough for him. Come!” He led her into a room with a great stone tub in the floor. “Take off your garments, but do not enter the water until I have had my fill of looking at you.”
Lara complied with his request, feeling shy, but refusing to show it. Enda and Durga had seen her naked when they had inspected her, but that was somehow different. She slipped slowly from her gown and chemise, standing quietly beneath his gaze.
He stared hard, and then said, “The hours until I can couple with you will be long, Lara. Get into the water, and do what you must.” He sat down on a single stone bench in the bathing room, and watched as she bathed herself thoroughly. He almost wept at the beauty of her body, and the long hair she now washed. Even dirty, it was glorious.
When she had finished she said quietly, “Would you not like to bathe, too, my lord? I have been taught by my stepmother how to wash a man.”
He couldn’t resist, stripping his clothing off so quickly she had no time to look at his masculine attributes, but she noted that his arms and legs were hairy. Well, she thought, soon enough she would be most familiar with them. He slid into the warm water and placed himself in her capable hands.
He would have never admitted it aloud, but this custom of the City’s was a most enjoyable one. Her soft hands moving the washing cloth over his shoulders, his back, his chest, was not simply pleasant, it was seductive as well, although he could see she was working hard not to entice him.
“I’m going to wash your hair,” she told him, and before he might protest she did just that. And then she washed his face, his neck and his ears as well. “There!” she said finally. “We are done, my lord.” And she climbed swiftly up the tub’s steps, and wrapped herself in a drying cloth, while holding one out for him.
He entered it meekly, and sat quietly as she dried him efficiently. Then he watched as she dried herself off, and toweled her long hair damp.
“I’m sorry you must wear dirty garments,” she said. “Mine were clean this morning. I should have thought to bring some. Next time, then.” She handed him his clothing while quickly donning her own. “Did you like it?”
“I did, and Durga will be most jealous when he learns of this interlude. But then, if he had come with us he would have not been able to restrain himself, and would have taken you upon the floor. But we will bring him next time, eh?”
“It is your right to command, my lord, and mine but to obey,” Lara responded.
Enda laughed. “Why is it I sense you are not as meek as you pretend?” he asked her. “But I shall soon teach you that a man is the master.” He caressed her beautiful face with his hand. “And when I have taught you the beginnings of passion, I shall make you beg me for the pleasures a man and woman can give one another when his manroot is buried deep in a woman’s hidden garden.” Then he yanked Lara into his arms, and kissed her surprised mouth hard. “Tell me you want me,” he groaned.
“Not yet,” Lara heard herself say, and wondered where the answer had come from. She was amazed at her calm in the face of her situation. She felt an odd strength filling her, and knew that she was indeed protected, as the guardian of the crystal had told her.
“Tonight you will,” he said curtly, ashamed to have shown her even the slightest moment of weakness. What was the matter with him? This faerie girl was intoxicating, and he began to wonder if they had not made a mistake in purchasing her. “Come,” he said. “I must return to my brother’s hall, and you to my rooms. You will not yet be allowed to speak with our women.”
Back in the dayroom Lara found her supper waiting. She had been given a portion of broiled trout, a ham slice and a roasted capon’s wing. There was bread, and cheese, and another peach. And wine, a large carafe of it. She ate everything and drank sparingly. Then, finished, she washed her hands and face, and cleaned her teeth. Removing her clothing she climbed into the large bed. She instinctively knew he would want her naked, and she had few garments as it was. Tonight she could hear singing from Durga’s hall. She finally fell asleep, only to awaken at the sound of a footfall in the other room. She heard wine being poured into the silver goblet that had arrived this evening with her meal.
Enda entered the room and slowly pulled off his garments, folding them neatly and laying them upon the chair. Then he moved to the hearth and added some fuel to the fire. Lara noted his buttocks were nicely rounded and firm. Finally he turned to her, pausing to allow her a full measure of his manliness. Men’s bodies, Lara decided then and there, had not the beauty of a woman’s. Enda was big-boned, as were all the Forest people. He walked to the bed and, lifting the coverlet, climbed into it, reaching for her as he did so.
Lara tensed as he pulled her atop him so that their bodies were matched breast to breast, belly to belly, thigh to thigh. Her flesh seemed to melt into his hardness. She swallowed hard as a big hand caressed her from the nape of her neck to her buttocks, but she was unable to restrain the shudder that overcame her. The touch was so possessive.
“Easy, girl,” he said softly as if he were speaking to a frightened animal. The hand encircled her bottom slowly, slowly, slowly. “That’s right. Get used to your master’s touch. Be good, and you will be rewarded.” The hand fondled her again.
Just as she was getting used to it, his two hands clamped about her slim waist and lifted her up just enough to put his face in the narrow glen separating her little round breasts. She felt him breathe deeply, inhaling her scent. Then raising his head, Enda deliberately licked the flesh between her breasts. Lara’s eyes widened with surprise, and when he shifted her position just slightly to clamp his mouth over a nipple, she felt her heart skip a beat.
The brown eyes stealthily observed her every little reaction. He suckled on her nipple and w
as rewarded with a startled gasp. He sucked harder, his teeth gently worrying the tender nub of flesh, and she cried out softly. She was utterly charming in her surprise. He released his hold on her breast and quickly rolled Lara onto her back within the curve of his embrace. “Did you like that?” he asked her.
She hesitated, but then remembered Ethne’s advice. “Aye,” she admitted. “I did.”
“There is more to mating than the coupling,” he told her, “although with Durga you will simply be mounted and used. My brother is not a subtle man. I, on the other hand, find women who enjoy passion more enjoyable as lovers. Durga does not understand why the slave women prefer my attentions to his, except for women like Truda, who think by lying beneath him they can gain power and status for themselves.”
“But they cannot,” Lara noted quietly.
“Of course not. She is not of the pure blood,” he answered her. Then he tipped her face up to his, and kissed her. “How clever of you to see it so clearly, and so quickly, Lara.” His knuckles grazed her cheekbone. “Now enough talking, girl. If we do not get on with this business of deflowering you soon Durga will be here, and eager for his share.” He kissed her harder now.
He was the first man to ever kiss her, Lara thought. She let her mouth kiss him back, tasting him, sensing the rising desire in those kisses. What would it be like to love and be loved? she wondered briefly. Then she put the thought from her mind. Love was a luxury available to a very few, if indeed it even existed. It was not her fate to be loved.
Enda now rolled Lara beneath him, growling in her ear, “Open your legs for me, girl! I am almost ready to have you.”
Obediently she spread herself for him. This much she understood, for Susanna had explained it. She felt his fingers playing with her most intimate flesh, which sent a bolt of sensation through her. What was this? Susanna had said nothing of reciprocal feelings, but perhaps she was not allowed to speak on such things. The tingling in her nether regions made Lara uneasy, and she squirmed restlessly.
Lara: Book One of the World of Hetar Page 15