Savage Surrender

by Deanna Ashford

  ‘Tarn would never hurt a woman, I know that,’ Lesand replied. ‘My concerns centres on your position as Lord Sarin’s bride. An unwed maid should not spend time alone with a young man who has at least partially regained his strength. It’s not seemly, Lady Rianna.’

  ‘Jenna, I have a favour to ask of you,’ Rianna said as they approached the prisoner’s encampment the following evening. ‘After I’ve dressed Tarn’s wounds, I wish to spend some time alone with him.’

  ‘Contrary to the Chancellor’s orders?’ Jenna smiled understandingly. ‘I saw the way the prisoner looked at you when you tended him this morning. The prince of Kabra is totally smitten, Lady Rianna.’

  ‘Smitten?’ Rianna glanced at her maid who seemed vastly amused.

  ‘As smitten as you are,’ Jenna gently teased. ‘I have eyes in my head, it was obvious to me. Just take care you do not reveal your secret to any other. It would not bode well for either of you if Lord Sarin discovered the truth. Prince Tarn is handsome and charming. What woman wouldn’t fall in love with him? ’Tis a pity your prince lost the battle to regain control of Kabra, then you could have married him instead.’

  The two women were surprised by the unexpected commotion as they walked into the encampment. The sergeant was shouting orders and men were hurrying hither and thither, saddling horses, donning body armour and readying themselves for battle.

  ‘What is happening?’ Jenna asked one of the soldiers as he brushed past her.

  ‘A group of warriors has been sighted five leagues from here,’ the soldier hurriedly explained. ‘It’s thought the men might be from Kabra, intent on freeing our prisoner. We are to hunt them down and stop them reaching the caravan.’

  Hope filled Rianna’s heart. She prayed that Tarn could be rescued, but whatever happened it was bound to lead to bloodshed.

  As they continued on towards the wagon where Tarn was chained, Rorg approached them. ‘I’ve been left in charge, my lady,’ he said gruffly. ‘If you wish to tend to the prisoner you will have to work swiftly. We’ve orders to move all our wagons close to the rest of the caravan.’ He suddenly paled, clutching at his stomach. ‘Ye gods,’ he grunted, and then sped towards the cover of the trees.

  Rianna laughed. ‘Your potion appears to be working most admirably, Jenna. Now we must hurry.’

  Lifting up her skirts, she climbed into the wagon.

  ‘What is amiss?’ Tarn asked as he saw her. ‘Why all the commotion?’

  ‘A group of warriors have been seen about five leagues from here. It’s feared they are a rescue party from Kabra.’ She smiled and moved to his side. ‘Let us hope it is your friends.’

  ‘They’ll be greatly outnumbered,’ Tarn said with concern. ‘It’s doubtful they’d manage to reach me.’ He glanced over at Jenna who stood just inside the entrance to the wagon, then back at Rianna as she sank down beside him. ‘Did you have to bring your maid again?’ he asked in a low voice.

  ‘The Chancellor has ordered that from henceforth we are not to be left alone. He fears for my honour, Tarn.’

  ‘A little late for such niceties,’ Tarn whispered under his breath as he smiled lovingly at her.

  ‘I’m most discreet,’ came Jenna’s cheerful voice from the rear of the wagon. ‘I forget most of everything I see.’

  ‘Can you trust her?’ Tarn asked Rianna.

  ‘Of course,’ Rianna confirmed as she swiftly examined Tarn’s wounds, applying more ointment before redressing the cut on his shoulder.

  There was the clink of weapons and the wagon suddenly shook as a troop of horsemen cantered by.

  ‘Most of the soldiers are leaving,’ Jenna announced. ‘The rest are probably too busy guarding the camp and looking out for attackers to trouble themselves with what you are doing, my lady.’ She laughed. ‘And Rorg is nowhere to be seen. He’s probably crouching behind some bush with his trousers round his ankles.’

  Tarn took hold of Rianna’s hand and smothered it with kisses. ‘I long to be alone with you,’ he groaned. ‘Will we manage even a few moments of privacy, my love?’

  Jenna stretched lazily. ‘’Tis odd, I suddenly feel most unwell,’ she said, never having sounded healthier. ‘I beg leave to step outside for a breath of fresh air.’

  ‘Of course, Jenna. Stay outside as long as you like.’ Rianna flashed her maid a grateful smile.

  Jenna took no time in leaving the wagon. As she disappeared, Tarn pulled Rianna into his arms. ‘Very discreet,’ he murmured, capturing her lips with his and kissing her with unrestrained passion until she was breathless with desire for him. ‘I adore you, Rianna,’ he murmured, pressing gentle kisses on the unruly red-gold curls that spilled untidily over her shoulders and down her back.

  The sound of gruff male voices close to the wagon disturbed the intimacy of the moment. Nervously, Rianna pulled away from Tarn.

  ‘My lady,’ Jenna pushed her head through the canvas opening, pointedly not looking in their direction.

  ‘What is it, Jenna?’ Rianna asked.

  ‘The soldiers are hitching the team to the wagon. It’s their intention to join the main body of the caravan.’

  ‘Best you come inside. Why walk back to the other camp when we can ride?’ Rianna resented the fact that she’d shared only brief moments with Tarn, but the fault was not Jenna’s.

  As Jenna joined them, there was a shout from the driver and the wagon jerked forward, trundling noisily over the rough ground. It only took them a moment to join the rest of the caravan, entering the circle of wagons and coming to a halt close to the Chancellor’s tent.

  ‘I should leave,’ Rianna said with regret. She did not know when they would have the opportunity to be alone again. Here, in full sight of all the other travellers, there was little chance of privacy. She leant towards Tarn. ‘I love you,’ she whispered in his ear.

  Overcome by her honest declaration of feelings, he looked at her in surprise. ‘Rianna,’ he murmured.

  Before Tarn had time to say anything more, Rianna clambered swiftly from the wagon. Jenna was already outside, speaking to Baral. The encampment appeared to be in total chaos as the travellers and the soldiers packed up their belongings and hitched teams of horses to the wagons.

  ‘Baral tells me that we will be departing soon,’ Jenna announced.

  Rianna looked questioningly at Baral, who nodded. ‘Indeed we are. You’ve heard that a band of warriors has been sighted close by?’

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed.

  ‘In the circumstances, Chancellor Lesand has decided it would be safer to seek shelter within the estate of a local nobleman, Seigneur Wernock. He is a close friend of Lord Sarin and his country estate is only a short distance away. Messages have been sent to the Seigneur, and he is eagerly awaiting your arrival, Lady Rianna.’

  ‘The Chancellor cares greatly for your welfare, my lady,’ Jenna said with a caustic smile.

  ‘It appears so,’ Rianna agreed, certain that the Chancellor was more concerned about Tarn escaping. Even if his comrades were in the area, it was unlikely they could rescue him from a nobleman’s stronghold.

  In no time at all the caravan was on the move, with Rianna’s conveyance escorted on both sides by Lesand’s soldiers. The darkness and the rough roads slowed down the large cortège and it was almost midnight when they arrived at the Seigneur’s estate. The house and outbuildings were set in huge grounds surrounded by a high stone wall. The area within the walls was so large it could accommodate their entire caravan without appearing crowded.

  Most of the travellers made camp, while Rianna, Chancellor Lesand and his senior officers entered the manor house. They were greeted by the Seigneur, a portly, dark-haired gentleman with a hooked nose who was inordinately pleased to see them. He immediately handed Rianna and Jenna into the care of a gaggle of serving maids. Chattering excitedly, they fussed around Rianna as they led her to a large, elaborately furnished chamber.

  Rianna shivered with tiredness as they brushed her long hair and divested her of her
clothes. They dressed her in a delicately embroidered silk night-gown, and helped her climb into the large bed. It was warm, soft and incredibly comfortable, and Rianna relaxed back on the pillows watching Jenna undress.

  ‘Sleep with me tonight, Jenna,’ she said with a yawn.

  ‘There’s a pallet made up for me at the end of your bed,’ Jenna pointed out.

  ‘I’m lonely, I don’t want to sleep alone.’

  Rianna was feeling sad, knowing now that there was little chance of Tarn being rescued, as there appeared to be a large number of soldiers guarding the Seigneur’s estate.

  Jenna smiled with understanding. ‘If my lady wishes it,’ she acknowledged, joining Rianna. She waited until the maids had departed before looking over at her mistress. ‘I know how troubled you are. I managed to exchange a few brief words with Mircon. The Prince is to be confined in the cellars of the house.’

  Rianna sighed unhappily. ‘I wonder if I will ever be able to speak to him again. Let alone . . .’ she faltered, her voice trembling with distress.

  Jenna edged closer to Rianna and slipped a comforting arm around her shoulders. ‘Don’t be downcast, the future may not be as grim as you think. In the morning I’ll seek out Mircon. He’s sure to be able to get a message to Prince Tarn.’

  By the end of the first day in Seigneur Wernock’s house, Rianna was heartily sick of her host’s company. He insisted on spending every moment by her side, and unfortunately he was an incredibly irksome companion.

  After a long evening meal, consisting of many rich, highly spiced courses, Rianna retired. It appeared she would have to endure her host’s continued attentions on the morrow, as the Chancellor had decided to spend at least another day here before recommencing their journey.

  Jenna was awaiting Rianna in her bedchamber. ‘Any news?’ Rianna asked her, having shooed all the other maids from the room.

  ‘The group of warriors has yet to be captured. There’s been no sign of them so far,’ Jenna replied.

  Rianna wondered why Jenna seemed so uncomfortable. ‘What is amiss?’

  ‘The Seigneur is a rich and powerful man. He even brings his personal surgeon when travelling to his country estate. I hear the man is very well respected and considered to be a great healer,’ Jenna replied awkwardly. ‘The Seigneur had him examine Tarn. He has concluded that Tarn is recovering well, and Mircon does not think you will be allowed to tend him further. It has been decided that Tarn is now fit enough to be returned to his cage for the final few days of travel to Aguilar.’

  The colour drained from Rianna’s face. Never before had she felt such despair. ‘This cannot be.’

  ‘Come, sit down.’ Jenna took her arm and made her sit on the bed. ‘You must be strong. Be of good heart, it is not quite as bad as it appears to be. I’ve spoken to Mircon and it is all arranged. But be warned, what I propose will be dangerous for you.’

  ‘What is arranged?’ Rianna asked in confusion.

  ‘You are to see Tarn tonight. Let us hope it is not for the last time,’ Jenna replied. ‘You wish it, do you not?’

  ‘Oh yes. But how?’ Rianna struggled to hold back her tears of pain.

  ‘Mircon has ensured that he will be one of the two guards on duty outside Tarn’s cell tonight. I will be taking Mircon down a flask of a red wine, and he will offer some to his comrade. I have spiked the wine with a strong potion which will make the other soldier sleep like a babe for hours.’

  ‘Jenna, how can I ever thank you?’ Rianna said with relief as she embraced her maid.

  ‘By allowing me to continue seeing Mircon.’ Jenna jumped to her feet. ‘Now I must take the wine down to the cellars. Wait here, my lady, until I return.’

  Rianna waited impatiently, desperate to see Tarn as she paced restlessly around the chamber. It seemed like a lifetime had passed before Jenna returned. When she did, Rianna stepped eagerly forward. She had already changed into her loose pink gown, and she wore a dark cloak around her shoulders.

  ‘Ready?’ asked Jenna.

  ‘Yes.’ Rianna felt nervous as she took hold of Jenna’s hand, fearing she might be discovered before she was able to reach Tarn.

  The manor house was silent, and the long winding corridors were dimly lit. The two women hurried to the rear of the building and down the stone steps that led to the cellars. The underground corridor was well illuminated. Mircon stood to attention beside a thick wooden door. The other guard was slumped on the floor snoring noisily.

  ‘I will reward you for this, Mircon,’ Rianna said with gratitude as Mircon drew back the heavy bolts on the door of Tarn’s cell.

  ‘Jenna is all the reward I need, Lady Rianna,’ Mircon replied. ‘I knew Prince Tarn in Aguilar before he returned to Kabra and led the rebellion. He’s a good man, and deserves to be treated with honour.’

  Smiling her gratitude, Rianna slipped into Tarn’s cell. She was relieved to find that it was no dank dungeon, it was dry and warm but a little stuffy. The only illumination came from a small oil lamp suspended from the ceiling. Tarn was sitting on a pallet laid against the far wall.

  He looked up at her, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. ‘I’m not dreaming?’

  ‘No, my love.’ She flung herself into his arms. Tarn embraced Rianna, holding her so close he almost squeezed the breath from her body.

  It was then that Rianna realised there were no cruel manacles around Tarn’s wrists and ankles. She kissed Tarn and he responded with passion as he thrust his tongue deep into her mouth. Sighing with pleasure, Rianna meshed her fingers in his long silky blond hair, but they brushed against something hard and metallic encircling his neck.

  ‘What is this? A heavy chain ran from Tarn’s collar to the wall.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he said lightly. ‘The chain’s long enough to allow me movement. At least my arms are free to embrace you without restrictions. Seigneur Wernock has made it plain he has no wish for me to escape while in his custody.’

  ‘I think it’s barbaric,’ she said with disgust, then added, ‘the soldiers have found no sign of your rescuers as yet.’

  She stared at his handsome face, drinking in the beauty of his sky blue eyes, and wondered how she could exist without him.

  ‘I’ve come to doubt my rescuers exist,’ he said with a frown. ‘They’re probably a figment of some nervous peasant’s imagination. If my former comrades did plan to mount a rescue, it would have been attempted before we entered Percheron.’ He hesitated, then added anxiously. ‘You endanger yourself by coming here, my sweet.’

  ‘This may be our last chance to be together,’ she told him sadly. ‘Mircon, Jenna’s soldier friend, has discovered that you are to be returned to that terrible cage. In all probability I will not be allowed to attend you again.’

  Pulling herself from his embrace, she rose to her knees and threw aside her cloak. With trembling fingers she began to unfasten the buttons at the front of her dress.

  ‘Is this wise?’ Tarn glanced worriedly towards the door.

  ‘Mircon is on guard duty outside. He will ensure we are not disturbed.’ She ripped the buttons apart and let the gown slide from her shoulders. Rianna wore nothing beneath it. She knelt before Tarn naked and unadorned. Then lifting her hands she undid the ribbon holding her hair. The red-gold strands fell around her shoulders and down her back.

  ‘You’re so beautiful.’ Tarn’s eyes darkened with desire.

  ‘I want you to pleasure me, Tarn,’ she said, all the love she felt for him reflected on her face. ‘I want you to make me yours completely.’

  She leant forward to unfasten the cord holding his trousers together, her long hair brushing his stomach and thighs.

  ‘No.’ Tarn put his hand atop hers, preventing her from drawing the silk downwards. ‘I long to make love to you, but I cannot commit the ultimate act. It’s impossible, you must go to your husband a virgin.’

  ‘My virginity is the only thing which is mine to give,’ she insisted with determination. ‘I want you to have it
, not Sarin.’

  Tarn’s mouth was set in a stubborn line, but Rianna knew he was deeply moved by her nudity. His hand trembled as he tried to push her away from him. ‘Please do not torture me, Rianna. However much I want you I cannot let you do this.’

  ‘And I will not let you stop me,’ she replied with equal determination. She kissed the corner of his mouth, moving her lips lower to caress the tense cording of his neck and the firm planes of his chest. As her teeth nibbled at his left nipple, Tarn groaned and relaxed his hold on her hand. She jerked the silk away from his sex to free his engorged rod.

  ‘No, Rianna,’ Tarn pleaded, helpless in his desire for her.

  ‘Tarn, I adore you.’ She slid her arms around him and pressed herself close, rubbing her bare breasts against his chest. It was the first time they’d been naked together, flesh to flesh. Rianna cherished the warm smoothness of his skin as she felt the rapid beat of his heart. Her nipples hardened, while her knees felt weak with wanting.

  ‘I cannot resist,’ he groaned, unable to stop his hands feverishly caressing her delectable curves.

  Tarn’s mouth covered hers, kissing her with anguished longing, worshipping at the fountain of her lips. As his tongue invaded her mouth the breath of their bodies mingled as one.

  ‘You may be a warrior, but you’re still not strong enough to fight me, Tarn. If fortune would permit, I would take you as my husband, not Sarin. So why should I give him the most precious gift I can bestow?’

  She caressed Tarn’s trembling flesh, feeling more empowered now than she had in her entire life. This was what she wanted, this was what she would have. She would be Tarn’s completely, always and forever.

  Tarn’s manhood twitched restlessly as she ran her fingers though the silky curls of his pubis. Smiling, she touched the engorged shaft, stroking it tenderly, feeling it harden even more. A tremor ran across Tarn’s stomach and thighs. With a soft groan, he resumed his possession of her lips, kissing her passionately and thrusting his tongue deep inside her mouth. Rianna’s pudenda throbbed, longing to be invaded in a similar manner by his thick rod of manly flesh. Twining his arms around her, Tarn clasped Rianna close, as though he never wanted to let her go.