‘Let me.’ Tarn undressed hastily, while Rianna removed her clothes. He placed a soft blanket on the rough, uneven ground and pulled her gently down beside him. They embraced, Tarn’s hard body pressed against hers, his engorged manhood digging temptingly into the soft curve of her stomach.
‘I love you,’ she whispered.
‘You are my life, Rianna,’ he said, his voice full of emotion.
‘And you are mine,’ she replied, almost crying with joy. Tarn kissed her, sliding his tongue into her mouth, savouring the sweetness of her lips. But their need was urgent, their desire for each other overwhelming. ‘Take me now,’ she pleaded, rolling on to her back.
Tarn positioned himself between her thighs. ‘My dearest love,’ he said softly. ‘This sweet union will cleanse us both.’
He entered her, his hot shaft parting her soft, moist flesh. Once she was filled completely, he lay there for a moment cradled inside her body, kissing her face, her neck, her breasts. Then Tarn began to move, thrusting smoothly into her, his engorged manhood lovingly caressing her silken sheath and rubbing teasingly against her taut pleasure pearl. The passion Rianna felt for Tarn was beyond anything she’d ever known, her love stronger than life itself.
The warm, musky scent of Tarn’s flesh surrounded her; soft strands of his hair brushed her breasts. The sheer power and strength of his body thrusting into her was even more wonderful than she remembered, or thought it could ever be again. She felt Tarn’s hard shaft filling her completely, rubbing and stroking every part of her vagina, giving her a pleasure that knew no boundaries.
She wound her arms around his neck, holding him close as the glorious sensations he aroused within her started to peak. She reached the summit, and her inner flesh pulsed. Tarn lost control completely as her sheath tightly enfolded his penis, drawing his life essence deep into her body. Joined in their mutual climax, they floated upwards on a happy cloud of bliss.
When the strong pulsing ebbed away, Tarn held her close. They kissed, cuddled, shared intimate words and their deepest thoughts. All the while, Tarn’s shaft remained inside her, until their need for each other sprang into life again. This time their lovemaking was slow and leisurely, with no need for the frantic haste of their first coupling. Her climax was longer and more drawn out, just as pleasurable and just as overwhelming. Once again she felt her soul soar into the deep blue yonder to join with Tarn’s.
‘We should leave,’ Tarn said, holding her close. ‘We can tarry here no longer. Lord Sarin’s men may be close behind us.’
She smiled lovingly at him. ‘If the gods are willing, we can look forward to a lifetime of moments as beautiful as this.’
‘Have you found the fugitive yet?’ Sarin asked irritably, as the captain of the palace guards entered the room. When Sarin didn’t receive a reply he angrily thumped his fist on the table in front of him. ‘How can one naked, chained prisoner disappear so completely?’ he said in disbelief. ‘It is not possible.’
‘We’ve searched the palace and its grounds more than once, my lord,’ the captain replied. ‘Now my men are combing the city streets.’
‘Search the palace again,’ Sarin blazed. ‘A thousand times over if needs be. If the prisoner is not found, you and your men will suffer my wrath. What now,’ he snapped as Captain Feroc paused hesitantly just inside the door of the large chamber.
‘I have something for you to see, my lord.’ Feroc strode forwards and bowed low. ‘These were found hidden in some bushes close to the armoury.’ He placed the manacles on the table.
‘Ye gods!’ Sarin growled, his face contorted by angry frustration. ‘Tarn is no longer chained. Doubtless he managed to steal weapons and clothing?’ He looked questioningly at Feroc. ‘How fares Chancellor Lesand?’
‘The Chancellor still complains of pains in his head. The blow the prisoner gave him left only a small wound, but it appears to have robbed him of any memory of the incident. We should give thanks that Tarn did not harm him further.’
‘Indeed we should,’ Sarin replied. ‘However, I can think of nothing but recapturing the fugitive.’ He thumped the table again, making the chains of the discarded manacles rattle. ‘Have the stables been checked? Tarn might well have stolen a mount.’
‘Twice, sire,’ replied his captain of the guard. ‘No horses are missing.’
‘What about the horses Chancellor Lesand had shipped in two days ago, as replacement mounts for his men. Are they all accounted for?’ asked Feroc.
‘Well?’ Sarin stared at the man whose cheeks had turned bright red.
‘I was not aware of their arrival, sire,’ he mumbled.
‘I’ll speak to the Chancellor’s Master of the Horse at once,’ Feroc said. ‘And report back to you straight away, Lord Sarin.’
‘Thank you, Captain Feroc.’ Sarin glared at his captain of the guard. ‘If Tarn has a horse he will be miles away by now.’ He glanced over at Cador, who lounged in a chair, tapping his booted foot with his riding crop. ‘It seems we have underestimated Tarn.’
Cador straightened. ‘I never underestimated him, my lord,’ he replied. ‘May I suggest that if you send out men to search for him, you instruct them to travel northeast. Tarn will be heading for Kabra.’
‘Surely he’ll not return there?’ Sarin questioned, as Feroc silently departed.
‘I know Tarn well. I’m certain he’ll want to see his father,’ Cador continued.
Sarin glared at the palace guard who had just stepped into the room. ‘Be gone,’ he growled. ‘I wish to be alone.’
‘But, my lord, there’s a visitor to see you,’ the guard stuttered.
‘Visitor?’ Sarin enquired.
Someone brushed past the guard and strode boldly into the room. ‘Lord Sarin,’ Gerek acknowledged with a brief brow. ‘I am Rianna’s father.’
‘Protector, this is an unexpected honour,’ Sarin said coldly.
‘Forgive the intrusion,’ Gerek smiled, ignoring the chilly greeting. ‘I had business in southern Harn, so I came to enquire of my daughter’s health. She has not written me for some time.’
‘Welcome to my house,’ Sarin said, hiding his irritation. ‘I’ll have rooms prepared and advise Lady Rianna you are here.’
‘I took it upon myself to ask one of the servants to seek her out.’ Gerek looked thoughtfully at Sarin. ‘You appear somewhat preoccupied. Is something amiss?’
‘A prisoner has escaped,’ Sarin explained hurriedly. ‘My men are such incompetent fools they seem unable to find him.’
‘The prisoner is of some importance?’ Gerek questioned curiously.
‘If you think the former Prince of Kabra important,’ Cador interjected, looking towards the door as he heard a sudden commotion outside.
‘What is wrong now?’ Sarin grumbled.
Cador stepped over to the door, exchanged a few words with someone, then grabbed hold of a maidservant and hauled her before Sarin. She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks.
‘It was not my fault, master, forgive me.’
‘What is she babbling about?’ Sarin looked at Cador.
‘It appears that Lady Rianna has also disappeared,’ Cador grinned slyly. ‘Somewhat of a coincidence, my lord.’
‘Has the fugitive abducted my daughter?’ Gerek asked anxiously. ‘Perhaps he intends to use her as a hostage to ensure we do not pursue him.’
‘I fear that might be possible,’ Sarin replied worriedly, while Cador held his tongue.
‘Are you certain it is safe to have a fire?’ Rianna asked, as she pulled her thick cloak tighter around her chilled body.
‘We’re not close to any towns or villages that I know of.’ Tarn threw more wood on the flames and sat down beside her, pulling her close. ‘I don’t want you to freeze, my love.’
Rianna smiled at Tarn. There were dark shadows under her eyes as they had managed little sleep over the last three days, only pausing to rest when the horses became too tired to continue. At the next town Tarn had decided to
buy two more mounts so that they could carry spare horses with them.
‘With you beside me, Tarn, I’ll always be safe.’ She glanced at the thick trees that ringed their small camp site. ‘Do you know exactly where we are?’
‘The constellations help me to plot our path.’ He pointed up at the dark, star-spattered sky. ‘See that bright star in the north? Kabra is that way.’
Rianna looked up at the sky. The star looked brighter than all the others and she thought that an auspicious omen. She never even heard a sound, just felt a body press against her back as the sharp knife touched her throat. Tarn stiffened, and out of the corner of her eye Rianna glimpsed the cruel blade held to her lover’s neck.
‘Stand up slowly,’ ordered a female voice. ‘You’re outnumbered. We won’t hesitate to kill you if you make any attempt to resist.’
‘Do as they say, Rianna,’ Tarn said in a reassuring voice. ‘They won’t harm us if we obey.’ The dagger was removed from Tarn’s neck and he rose very slowly to his feet. Tarn turned to face his opponents, five armoured, heavily-armed, female warriors. ‘We mean no harm. We are travelling to Kabra, and strayed into your land by accident. Release us and we will be on our way as soon as it is light.’
‘Only our Queen can accord you that privilege,’ the tallest woman replied, pointing a sword straight at Tarn’s stomach. ‘All strangers have to be taken before her. Hands behind your back.’
‘As you wish,’ Tarn said, placing his arms behind his back. One of the women stepped around him and lashed his wrists together with strips of leather that cut cruelly into his flesh. They were kinder to Rianna. Taking the dagger from her throat, they tied her hands in front of her. One of the women gave a piercing whistle and a sixth warrior appeared leading a number of horses. Rianna and Tarn were allowed to mount their own steeds. The group set off, wending their way through the thick forest until they reached a narrow path which led upwards into the mountains, eventually turning into a narrow road.
Their captors urged the horses into a fast gallop. Rianna was able to hang on to the pommel of her saddle. Tarn, hands tied behind his back, gritted his teeth, grasping the saddle with his knees. The muscles of his thighs ached by the time the castle came in sight; a large imposing stone edifice, which almost seemed part of the rocky summit on which it stood.
Female warriors guarded the entrance. They pulled open the heavy oak gates to allow the warriors and their captives inside. Torches, set on high wooden poles, lit the bailey. Tarn could see only a few guards on duty inside; the walkways running along the high battlement walls were empty. Tarn felt heartened, as the lack of guards would make it easier to attempt an escape.
The group of riders stopped in front of a large, stone building which was the main body of the castle. Other, smaller buildings could be seen within the keep.
‘Dismount,’ ordered one of the warriors who had captured them.
Tarn slid from his horse, tensing his muscles to stop his weary legs from buckling under him, and moved closer to Rianna. She looked anxiously at him.
‘I do not think this is as bad as it first seemed,’ he whispered, smiling at her reassuringly. ‘As soon as they realise who you are, we shall be safe.’
‘What do you –’
‘Silence,’ snapped one of the warriors. ‘This way,’ she ordered, taking a firm hold on Tarn’s arm and leading him up the wide stone steps. Rianna followed them.
They entered the great hall, which was brightly lit and sumptuously appointed. It had a striking floor made of slabs of marble in rich shades of cream and brown. Silk banners and brightly coloured tapestries covered the thick stone walls. There were ornately carved chairs and tables, and huge silver candle holders. The smell of sweet incense scented the air, a contrast to the smelly, smoky atmosphere prevalent in most castles Tarn had visited.
The warriors tossed aside their cloaks, revealing their beaten metal breastplates and short leather skirts. Tarn’s initial conclusions were right. They had unwittingly strayed over the border into the land of Freygard, the ancestral home of Rianna’s mother, Kitara.
A woman severed Rianna’s bonds but left Tarn’s hands tied, leading them forward to stand in front of a raised dais on which stood an ornately carved gold throne.
Tarn drew in his breath as the Queen entered. She was probably twenty years older than Rianna, but still extraordinarily beautiful, with a superb figure and long, dark auburn hair. She too was dressed as a warrior, with a breastplate of beaten gold covering her upper torso, and white silk breeches which clung tightly to her shapely legs.
‘Queen Danara,’ a warrior whispered in Tarn’s ear as the queen seated herself on the imposing throne.
‘So these are the strangers?’ The Queen glanced dismissively at Tarn, then looked thoughtfully at Rianna. ‘What is your name, child?’
‘Rianna,’ she replied. ‘Lady Rianna of Harn.’
‘Your father is the Protector?’ Queen Danara queried, leaning forward intently.
‘Rianna’s mother, Kitara, was one of your people,’ Tarn interjected.
‘I did not address you,’ Queen Danara said regally, as she glared angrily at Tarn.
‘I appreciate that it is not usually permitted for a man to address your majesty directly, without first receiving permission. But I beg leave to speak,’ Tarn said boldly.
‘Who is he?’ Queen Danara asked Rianna.
‘Prince Tarn of Kabra.’ Rianna looked lovingly at Tarn. ‘We are fleeing from my husband, Lord Sarin of Percheron.’
‘You fear Lord Sarin, child?’ The Queen smiled warmly at Rianna. ‘Do not be concerned. He has no control over this land. Our laws do not recognise the union of marriage.’ Relenting, she turned to Tarn. ‘So you are the rebel prince who dared to oppose Sarin of Percheron?’
He nodded. ‘I am, your majesty. Could I ask you to give Lady Rianna sanctuary for the sake of her birthright, if nothing else? We are being pursued by Lord Sarin’s soldiers and I fear they are not far behind us.’
‘We welcome all our lost sheep back to the fold, Prince Tarn.’ She honoured Tarn by inclining her head as a measure of respect. ‘As Lady Rianna’s companion, we also offer you sanctuary. However, while you reside here you must abide by our customs.’
‘Thank you, your majesty,’ he acknowledged.
‘Rianna, I bid you welcome.’ The Queen stepped down from the dais and embraced Rianna. ‘Your mother and I were raised together as children. You are my kinswoman. If it please you, Rianna, you may address me as Danara. You’ve travelled far, you must be weary. You need good food and rest.’
‘Indeed we do.’ Rianna looked over at Tarn. ‘Surely, Queen Danara, you do not leave those you welcome restrained?’
‘You have a fiery spirit like your mother.’ The Queen nodded to Tarn’s guard. Taking out her dagger, the warrior sliced through Tarn’s bonds. ‘Come, my dear. I’ll guide you to your chamber,’ she said to Rianna. ‘In this castle, the different sexes live apart. Tarn will stay in the men’s quarters.’
‘He’ll be treated well?’ Rianna insisted. ‘I’ve heard you can be harsh with your male slaves. Tarn is no slave, he’s my dearest companion.’
The Queen gave a soft laugh. ‘Many of the stories about Freygard are just that – wild tales told by troubadours who know nothing of our land. Prince Tarn will be shown to a comfortable chamber and have all his needs attended to.’
‘I’ll see you on the morrow,’ Rianna said anxiously, as she smiled at Tarn.
He smiled encouragingly back at her. Tarn had no wish for them to be parted, but it appeared they had little choice. Despite the Queen’s words of welcome, he had the uneasy feeling they were still as much prisoners now as they had been before. With one last fleeting glance at Rianna, he followed his warrior escort from the great hall. They walked down the steps and across the chilly keep to a low, stone building nestling against the castle walls.
Rianna sat in the warm, scented water, which eased the stiffness from her travel-weary li
mbs. This bathing tub in front of a blazing fire in her bedchamber was a far cry from the luxury of Sarin’s bath house, but infinitely preferable all the same. She wished Tarn could be here with her. For the last three days they’d spent every moment together, and she wanted the rest of her life to be the same. She had vowed that they would never again be parted. Unfortunately, the customs of Freygard did not permit them to share a bedchamber.
They had been offered sanctuary by her kinfolk, yet still Rianna did not feel at ease. She couldn’t bring herself to wholly trust Queen Danara.
‘Rianna, are you feeling better now you’ve eaten and bathed?’ Danara asked, as she entered the room. ‘Here, I’ve brought you clean towels.’ She placed the white linen cloths on a stool by the side of the tub.
‘Much better.’ Rianna smiled at Danara, who looked a little more approachable now that she had changed into a loose robe. ‘Thank you for the towels.’
There appeared to be no female servants in the castle. Rianna had seen just two male slaves who brought the water for her bath. They hadn’t even dared look at her, keeping their eyes lowered. After the plethora of slaves and servants eager to attend to her every need in the palace of Aguilar, the sight of the queen bringing her fresh towels was a little strange.
‘You should get out of the bath before your flesh wrinkles like a prune,’ Danara teased with a soft laugh. ‘We’ve no slaves here to massage scented oil into your skin. Life in Freygard has none of the luxuries of Lord Sarin’s court.’
Danara shook a linen towel free of its folds and held it out to Rianna. She stood up, water streaming from her body, her skin pink from the warmth. As Rianna stepped from the tub, Danara wrapped the towel around her, but not before her gaze briefly darted down to Rianna’s denuded sex.
‘So you know what life is like in Sarin’s court?’ Rianna asked in surprise.
‘We do not encourage strangers to visit our lands. Yet some of our warriors do choose to travel, merely in order to learn more about other countries,’ Danara replied. ‘We like to keep well acquainted with what happens in kingdoms close to our boundaries. For safety’s sake if nothing else. We have never been invaded, but that does not mean it will never happen.’ She led Rianna over to the four-poster bed. ‘Sit and I’ll comb your hair.’
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