"Beggin' pardon, Lady," Murdock sniveled, "but what use does one of yur kind have fer a slave?"
"My reasons are none of your concern." She walked slowly around Dak, taking a good long look at what she saw, especially the area between his waist and his knees.
"Relax, Murdock." Dak drawled, intending to see just how far he could push Murdock's fear of this woman. "It's obvious the lady has a need she thinks I can fill." He tried to ignore the sick guilt churning in his stomach at insulting a female. Anderan men were raised to cherish and protect women. It was as much a part of him as his personal honor and integrity.
Don't be a fool! You can escape from her a lot easier than from this prison.
If she heard his comments, Dak couldn't tell. She continued to stare at his groin until he began to harden beneath her gaze.
Blast and damn! You're worse than a stallion sniffing a mare in heat! By all the Ancient Prophets I will not have an erection now!
"Pay no attention, Lady," Murdock shot a murderous glance at Dak, "he's a stranger and knows nothin' of yur … uh … customs. He didn't mean no insult."
"The lady knows exactly what I meant, Murdock," Dak argued, trying desperately to ignore the growing evidence of her effect on him. His eyes locked with the pale aqua of the crystal witch, praying she wouldn't glance back at his penis. His eyelids dropped. "I look forward to her gentle touch after such a long time under your care."
Damn! Dak knew himself well enough to recognize the deep, husky sound of his voice for what it was--a promise of long hours of heart-pounding, gut-wrenching sex. When her aqua eyes widened in response and she looked back at the hard length of flesh pulsing against his belly, his humiliation reached an all-time high.
"Fuck." Dak's whispered declaration summarized his opinion of himself in particular and the situation in general.
"Shut yur bloody mouth, boy," Murdock bellowed, landing a blow to the side of Dak's head. "It's bad 'nuff you insult the Lady. Now, ya got a boner harder 'n any whore's heart. What's the matter wit' you? Don't ya un'erstand? She's a crystal witch. Yur gonna bring death 'n destruction down on all of us!"
"Death and destruction?" Dak laughed, ignoring the ringing in his ears. "From one puny little woman?" He turned to the woman standing next to him. "You may buy me," he growled, seeking refuge in anger from his public display of lust, "but I give you my vow that the first time you blink, I'll be gone."
He made no attempt to disguise the rage and frustration of the past months. "Do your worst witch! Turn me into a toad! Strike me dead! Death will be a welcome embrace!"
He finally noticed that Murdock and the entire mob of miscreants had backed further and further away from the platform. The first trickle of fear slithered across his skin.
Damn! What if she really is a witch, you idiot? These assholes obviously know something you don't!
"Your anger is justified; Anderan," she consoled in a soft voice for his ears alone, "but I expected better behavior from you. Well, it is unimportant now."
Dak watched warily, fear of her unknown powers thundering in his increased heart rate, as she reached into the gold metallic bag strapped to her waist. When she did nothing more than lift a length of silver chain with a small amulet of white stone suspended from it, he released his trapped breath.
“My crystal will assure your cooperation." She stretched toward Dak's head with the chain and frowned when he reared as far away from her hands as the rock allowed. "There's no need for you to fight me," she whispered, "I won't harm you. The stone will also take care of your … physical problem." She glanced back at his groin and blushed at the pulsing proof of his virility.
"If you think that tiny piece of rock….” Whatever else Dak had to say died when the chain slipped over his head and his mental capabilities scattered like so many dead leaves.
"You may remove his manacles, now," she told Murdock with a slight smile, "and bring him some clothes. He won't give you any further trouble."
When the manacles fell from his wrists, Dak grabbed the piece of cool rock resting on his chest. He couldn't lift it. Must have gone too long without proper circulation? He may be weak as a kitten but since she put it on she could take it off.
Dak slipped into the pants a guard brought for him, grateful that his unexpected arousal no longer pulsed with life. The woman handed Murdock a sack that clinked with the solid sound of gold in exchange for a small stack of papers. Giving her time to finish the sale gave him time to compose his thoughts. He was having trouble keeping his mind focused on what was happening. Must be the heat.
She turned to him with a slight smile. "Are you ready?"
Yes! I'm ready for you to remove this damn rock!
"Yes, Lady," Dak answered softly. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you? That's not what you were going to say to her!
"Excellent. It's too late today to arrange for transport. I have a room ready where you can bathe and rest." She turned without another word and climbed down to the dusty street. Gathering up her discarded cloak, she motioned for Dak to follow her. Without knowing why or how--he did just as she bid.
Chapter Two
From her position near the door, Kierin watched the man sitting armpit deep in hot water. The harsh soap provided by the innkeeper of this hovel definitely improved his appearance. Once she trimmed his beard and hair and healed his injuries, he would be passable.
"By what name are you called?” She asked to break the uneasy silence. Now that her plan was in motion she wasn't sure just how to proceed. The first step, obviously, was to gain his trust.
"Dak."
The blazing fury lighting his deep brown eyes gave lie to the soft tone of his voice. While the amulet controlled his physical actions and his ability to resist her instructions, the anger still flourished in his mind. His thoughts were his own. That aspect had never occurred to her. After all, the stones were created for use on large animals, not humans. He was a proud man, this Anderan she owned.
No. Not owned. One person has no right to own another. I'll release him as soon as he gives me what I need, so he's just borrowed.
"I can't trust you not to escape, can I?” Kierin fought the wave of guilt threatening to devour her.
"I will escape, Lady."
The pain she sensed beneath his soft reply brought the sting of tears to her eyes. "You have nothing to fear from me. I won't harm you in any way. In fact, you may find you enjoy your duties.” She couldn't prevent the blush that stained her cheeks pink just thinking about what his duties would entail. She had to find a way to convince him to accept his temporary situation. This plan, however foolhardy, wouldn't work without his complete cooperation. He couldn't perform the services she required while wearing the amulet, and she couldn't trust him to stay if she removed the stone. There had to be compromise between them.
Dak slowly closed his large hand around the shimmering white stone hidden just beneath the surface of the water, never breaking eye contact.
Kierin squirmed under the intensity of his gaze. Hesitant to let the once-powerful lord see her discomfort, she reached for the clear crystal she wore around her own neck. The gentle pulse of the smooth stone, as steady as a heartbeat, never failed to soothe her.
A wave of violent emotion slammed into her mind like a physical blow. Gasping and staggering from the mental assault, Kierin released her stone to steady herself against the heavy wooden door. Almost instantly, the sensation ceased.
By the Goddess Jovena, what madness is this? Never in her life had she experienced such an invasive episode. The riot of emotion still fresh in her mind was too jumbled to analyze. Rage, fear, anger and hopelessness were the strongest of what she experienced, but there was so much more.
Sneaking a quick glance at Dak, Kierin watched his eyelids close and his head roll back against the rim of the tub. Good. Sleep would help heal his battered body. They had a long trip ahead of them and she hated to think of him suffering all that time. Since there was no danger of him slipping be
neath the surface of the water in the small tub, she took advantage of his fatigue. She needed time to regain her composure.
Risking another glance at Dak to make sure he still slept, she eased into the only chair in the room and reached for her amulet again. She needed a focus session to sort the myriad threads of her memory, and she might not get another chance for several days.
Drawing her concentration inward, she clasped the stone between her two palms and lifted her hands. With thumbs beneath her chin and resting her fingertips just above the bridge of her nose, she closed her eyes and turned her mind in on itself.
A feeling of great sadness and loneliness settled over her, bringing tears to her closed eyes. An image took form in her thoughts. An image of multi-colored flowers in full bloom and peaceful sunlight. Here, in this idyllic garden, the sadness was tempered with deep love.
Shadowy silhouettes slowly appeared amid the rioting blossoms. Two men, both tall and strong, were joined by a woman with long hair. The faces were unclear, but Kierin sensed strong ties bound these people.
Pressing the crystal tighter, Kierin focused intently on the trio. There was something familiar about them. As if aware of her intrusion into their midst, all three turned and she saw them with perfect clarity. All had black hair. One man's eyes glowed brilliant blue, the other the warm dark brown of kava fur. Kierin saw no one she recognized. One of the men, standing slightly apart from the couple, reached out his hands in welcome. A surge of soul-deep caring flooded Kierin’s thoughts. Whoever was joining them in the garden was deeply loved by the brown-eyed man.
"Elizabeth."
Kierin jerked in response to Dak's sleepy voice. Elizabeth is the name in my vision. Confused and disoriented, she watched him come fully awake. Blinking like a baby night bird, he scanned the room, frowning at the surroundings. When he spotted her, still sitting by the door, all traces of sleep vanished in an instant. Again, strong emotions bombarded her mind. Vengeance! The word screamed once through her conscience.
Dak dropped the glowing stone still held in his grasp and turned his back on her. With a gasp, she was freed from the chaotic assault.
Dak! She suddenly recognized the man in her vision. The man who called out to Elizabeth was Dak. With his hair clean and hanging in a wet curtain to the middle of his back, she could see the resemblance. The same broad shoulders, the same deep brown eyes. She couldn't see the squared jaw beneath the matted beard covering his face, but she knew what he'd look like without it.
Passable? She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry at her understatement. When the cuts, bruises and abrasions healed, this man wouldn't be passable. Dak is devastatingly handsome. What have you gotten yourself into?
Kierin dropped her own stone. She didn't understand how she could read Dak's thoughts. It had to be tied to the crystal around his neck, but how? She desperately wished her father still lived. If ever she needed his wisdom and guidance, it was now.
If he were alive, you wouldn't be in this position. Feeling trapped and out-of control, she frantically searched for a reason to leave the room.
"Dak," she called to the broad expanse of his back. "While you finish your bath, I'm going to gather food and ointments and bandages for your injuries. You are not to leave the room. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Lady."
Without another word, she scurried from the room, not bothering to lock the door behind her. There was no reason. Dak would be unable to disobey her orders.
Dak felt, more than heard, the departure of the crystal witch. How could one small woman create such debilitating weakness of mind and body?
Yes, Lady. No, Lady. Whatever you say, Lady. I sound like a trained mimic bird. By the Beard of the Prophet, what am I to do? I thought it would be easier to escape from a woman than from Murdock. It's this damn stone around my neck.
Easing back against the rim of the too-small tub, Dak tried again to remove the strange chain. The small white stone, half the size of his thumb, glowed like moonlight. With all the power at his command, he pushed the stone upward. The harder he fought to raise the chain above his head, the heavier the stone became until he could no longer hold it aloft. With a groan of defeat, he dropped the sliver of rock. Instead of the splash he expected from the heaviness he experienced, there was a gentle plop.
A wave of dizziness washed over him, just like at the slave market when Kierin placed the stone around his neck. His thought processes scattered leaving him confused and disoriented. Focus, dammit. This isn't the first tough spot you've been in. All you need to do is think. You've got to gain her trust enough to remove the blasted rock if you want to escape. She said something about arranging for transport, but I have to stay here; at least long enough to discover what happened to my crew.
A wave of homesick longing hit Dak, bringing images and memories alive in his head. Zeth and Arica, his foster parents. JarDan and Melodie. Do you believe me dead, JarDan? Or do you still search for us? By the Beard of the Prophet, I miss you, my brother.
And Elizabeth. Sweet, full-of-life, Elizabeth, with her curling black hair and sparkling blue eyes. Dak never thought to love another human being as deeply as he loved Elizabeth. How long would it take before her memories of him began to fade? Every time he closed his eyes in sleep, he dreamed of Anderas and the people he longed to see.
Think about escape. Don't dwell on what you can't change right here, right now. The Crystal Witch said I would enjoy my duties. Ha! There can be no enjoyment when there is no choice. I'll do whatever I have to do to survive and find a way to get home.
Dak pulled his aching body from the tub, grimacing at the filth swirling in the water. It felt so good to be clean again. Not wanting to further abuse his flesh with the rough toweling, he allowed his skin to dry in the cool breeze created by the ventilation system. Unsure of how long he would be left alone, he slipped into the pants she left on the bed, frowning at the length of exposed leg. Wasn't there a man somewhere on this cursed planet more than six feet tall? Average in height and build for an Anderan, he knew from his space travels that he often towered above other men. You just never had to wear their clothes. After studying the matching shirt, he ripped the sleeves from the shoulders and tossed them aside. By opening the side seams about six inches, he figured the shirt would fit his own shoulders--after she bandaged his back. It wasn't much, but it would protect him from the elements. It probably wouldn't button, but he could tie the ends together at his waist.
Exhausted from his meager exertion, he sat on the lumpy mattress. Careful not to make any sudden moves that would pull against his cracked ribs, he eased himself onto his stomach, resting his head on his forearms. Damn, it feels good to lie down on more than a stinking pile of moldy straw. Closing his eyes, he surrendered to the healing arms of sleep, his last thoughts filled with the memories of rose-scented breezes and the violet sunsets of Falcon Tor.
Kierin ushered the last of the cleaning team from the room. When she returned a short while ago and found Dak asleep, she ordered the removal of the tub and left instructions for another to be brought in the morning. She thought longingly of a bath for herself, but she didn't think she could perform such an intimate chore with a strange man in the room. Allowing him to sleep, Kierin took a small portion of the mountain of food sitting on the table. A man Dak's size would have a big appetite. Nibbling on the flat, tough bread, she studied the sleeping man. Although she still didn't understand exactly how she was able to tap into his thoughts, the prospect intrigued her. Could she do it again? At will? Was it possible to direct his thoughts by implanting her own? Maybe she could reveal her requirement without having to actually explain her actions.
First things first. His injuries required immediate attention to prevent the spread of infection. Retrieving the bundle of clean rags and a small basket of dried leaves and herbs, she set about mixing an ointment that would numb the pain while aiding in the healing process. She preferred the snow-white curd rendered from the root of a srallo plant as a base
for ointments. Since there were no such plants on this world and she didn't think to bring any from her own, she had to make do with the cooking lard from the kitchen.
Grimacing at the rancid smell of the fat, she quickly crumbled the dried leaves into the bowl, kneading the mixture with her hand to form a pungent paste. Easing down on the side of the bed, she decided to try her theory of thought transfer. Closing her free hand around her amulet, Kierin projected her thoughts toward the still sleeping Dak.
I have medicines for your back. They will sting but you need to remain as still as possible until I finish. I mean you no harm, Dak. You need have no fear of me.
Dak jerked awake at the first touch of her hand. His lips thinned and his gaze remained fixed on the wall opposite the bed, but he never moved as she carefully smoothed the ointment across the raw flesh of his back. Her fingers trembled when she brushed the long, silky strands of his hair out of her way. Touching him did strange things to her system. Acutely aware of the firmness of his hip against hers on the bed, she struggled to keep her breathing even. As she worked the ointment lower and lower on Dak's back, she wondered what his skin would feel like when healed. Would it be as warm as her flushed body felt?
Pushing the disturbing thoughts away, she wiped her hands and picked up the bandages. "You'll have to sit up for me to wrap these around you."
Without a word, Dak slowly eased himself up and lifted his arms out to the side. Kierin watched the color fade from the small part of his face she could see above the beard and knew his movements caused him great pain.
"This won't take long.” She promised as she reached around him with the first strip of material. If touching his back produced disturbing sensations, enfolding him in her arms created a riot. Growing up with only her father and brother, she was accustomed to the sight of a naked male chest. Why did seeing the dark patches of hair beneath Dak's arms make her knees weak? Why did harsh soap smell so good when she leaned close to his chest to wrap the bandage around his back? And why did she want nothing more than to snuggle against the soft curls of dark hair on his chest and stay there forever?
Men of Anderas II: Dak the Protector Page 2