“Now that we’re situated, who’d like to begin? You.” He pointed at Gerhma. “Tell me about the battle.”
“The—the battle, milord?”
“You had plenty to report in Lempol, did you not? I’d like to hear the same.”
Gerhma lowered his fork, forcing down the lump of food seemingly stuck in his throat. “Sir, weren’t truly no battle. Most ran to get away from them beasts and women.”
“Ran?” Daracus’ eyes narrowed. “My father doesn’t run from battle, Slave.”
“No, Sir,” he corrected, feeling sweat beading his brow. “The—the Zaxson didn’t run from no one. He led a charge and them other guards ran when the women attacked.”
“The Chosen Guard doesn’t fear women.”
Gerhma shook his head, looking at Ahndargae with desperation.
“It weren’t just the women, milord,” Ahndargae said. “Your—your father ordered the Guard to attack, but…but them women weren’t no natural folk. When them bolts came at them, they raised up a hand and stopped them. Heard the Cha sayin’ them woods is cursed, and I’m believin’ it. Ain’t no other way to explain it.”
Daracus scoffed. “So, now these women can stop flying bolts. What other tricks did they perform?”
“I ain’t knowin’, milord. Guards was runnin’ and shootin’ at nothin’. Them women knocked us down without movin’. The—the giants and beasts came then.”
“Now you want me to believe in myths and stories? Great beasts and giants? This is what you told the Caretaker in Lempol?”
“We only told what we seen, milord.” Gerhma’s light green eyes met his for a moment, before he stood, raising up his tunic. “Par—pardon,” he said, turning around to expose the huge pink and red gashes streaking across his back.
“Them beasts were fearsome and the giants who rode them,” Gerhma said, sitting back at the table. “Bigger than ten of them bears we caught in our traps. Them eyes, glowin’ eyes did the giants have, and them beasts had three. Ain’t never feared more in my life, milord. They chased us through the wood, grabbin’ at us with their claws. If’n I hadn’t fallen, they’d of got me, too.”
Daracus head cocked, recalling his father’s wounds. “They grabbed men with their claws?”
“Yes, milord,” Sarai said. “The beasts flew up over the trees and dropped Guards back to the ground. Their armor couldn’t even protect them. Everyone was screaming and running.” She paused, taking a deep breath. “Guards loosed bolts, killing other guards. They couldn’t stop the beasts, milord.”
Daracus nodded, leaning back in his chair. He considered their report and then regarded Sarai again. “I’m not aware of any tactical expertise that you possess. Why were you with my father?”
“I—I had many duties, milord: cleaning and cooking for the men, and tending minor wounds.”
“I see. You appear learned to me. Where are you from?”
“From Kaleo, milord. My—my father was a barrister.”
“Highborn?”
She nodded.
“How many other slaves like you accompanied my father?”
“Others?”
“It’s not a difficult question, especially for one as you. Were you my father’s whore or not?”
“I—I was his alone, milord.”
Daracus licked his lips. “I’ve borne witness to some of your more intimate duties,” he said, enjoying the vivid memories. “My father liked you on your knees when Symeon took Ceron. You were always his favorite, you know? I recall your squeals when he buried his tongue between your thighs. I’ve never seen juices spray from a woman before. He’d lick and drink every drop until your voice was hoarse from the constant shrieks. Oh, I remember you well. My father enjoyed making you moan and twitch, to watch himself disappear inside of you. Of course, his shouts were even louder than yours when you straddled him. I’ve always wondered what you did that satisfied him so. Could it be that good? Then again, he satisfied you, too. It wasn’t merely his mouth, was it? You enjoyed that long, curved cock. The way your body moved and the pleasured expression when you reached your peak…” he smirked. “…you can’t fake that, my dear Sarai. Or your delicious moans that accompanied it.”
Sarai’s eyes widened, feeling disgusted, fearful, and ashamed. “Your—your honorable father al—always wanted me to enjoy our time together.”
“He wanted that and more. You’re certain that he didn’t share you with anyone else? Oxilon mayhaps?”
“I was his alone,” she repeated as tears streaked her cheeks.
“How long did you provide this particular service for my father?”
“Since I was taken from Kaleo…nearly eight seasons now.”
“How old are you?” Daracus asked, admiring her slight, boyish frame.
“I’m five and ten, milord.”
“I wonder what my father enjoyed when he had you alone in his chambers? Certainly, it differed from what he desired with others present. Mayhaps you’ll do the same for me. If you’ve been under his tutelage since you were three and ten, you should be quite skilled. You’re certain that he never shared you with any other, not even Symeon?”
Her head snapped up with the fear prominently in her eyes. “Never, milord, not Symeon. I—I was maiden, and your father was the only one I’ve known. He never shared me with Symeon, never. I—I’d be honored to pleasure you as I did him.” Sarai’s voice trembled, accompanied by a flood of tears.
“Well, I’ll ensure that you’re bathed and oiled before joining me this very night. I’m not my father, Sarai. My needs aren’t so easily sated.”
“Yes, milord.”
“Now, is that all you have to report about the Animus Wood,” Daracus asked, calming the rise in his trousers.
Gerhma looked up apprehensively. “Them women sent a warnin’.”
“A warning?”
“Weren’t like nothin’ I’ve known. It—it was a shadow, and a—a voice. I tried to run, but couldn’t get away from it.”
“Speak plainly, or I’ll continue my questions in the dark chamber. Trust me: Sir Merrimont’s methods aren’t nearly as pleasant as mine.”
“Yes, Sir. They said that they’s comin’…them giants and beasts is comin’. If’n we don’t fight, they’ll be sparin’ us. But—”
“But what!”
Gerhma flinched, shrinking back. “If’n we resist, they’ll destroy us.”
Daracus leapt up, pounding a fist on the table. “A threat! They dare threaten the Nazilians? I’ll kill them where they stand!”
The slaves lowered to their knees as Daracus rushed to the door.
“Take the men to the cells and summon the council. I don’t want anyone speaking to the slaves without my permission. Take the wench to a servant chamber and have Ceron attend her. I have more intimate questions for that one.”
As the doors closed, Daracus placed another pellet beneath his tongue.
“If it’s death they want, I’ll bring it to them.”
Vows
The Bandarians cheered as Hibret and Wosen handed the empty cup back to Nzuri. Taking Hibret’s hand, Wosen leaned down, gently touching his lips to hers. Tears welled in her eyes as he looked at her, overcome by the love and forgiveness he saw in them.
“You are now released to your home to continue your bond.” Nzuri smiled, handing the cloth to Wosen. “Let no one disturb this very blessed day.”
Hosdaq quickly embraced them, as they turned and faced the crowd. “I can’t express the joy I feel at witnessing your bond.”
“And having you home with me,” Malkia said, wrapping her arms around his waist.
Wosen chuckled, returning the tight embrace, and then leaned down to kiss Malkia. “I never want to be without you again, little one.”
“Now, let us lead the new couple to their shelter,” Vot said.
The Bandarians had worked the entire day to complete the shelter before their bonding. It was more a hastily constructed whare, with two framed rooms divided b
y a curtain and an entry door. The accommodation didn’t matter to them, only that they’d be sharing it together.
“It’s wonderful to see them so happy,” Brahanu whispered to Pentanimir.
“Indeed. They’ve spoken of nothing else for seasons. I’m glad that Wosen is amongst his people again.”
“But for how long? Isn’t he leaving the wood soon?”
“He is, and many more as well,” he said, interlacing their fingers. “We’ll meet with the Elders later to discuss what’s soon to come.”
Brahanu nodded as the procession came to a halt. The crowd dispersed, still celebrating after they’d entered their home to complete the bond.
Wosen sat on the lone chair in the room, watching Hibret remove the ribbon from her hair. He smiled as she released her curls, smoothing them down around her shoulders.
“I’ve always loved your hair, Hibret. The sweet oils would glisten in the sunlight when we took our walks along the shore.”
“I recall one such day when you said that you had a surprise for me,” she said, sitting on his lap. “When I closed my eyes to receive it, I felt your lips on mine.”
“Were you not surprised?”
“I was. Tell me: is a stolen kiss more pleasurable than one offered freely?” she asked, placing her lips on his. Wosen drew her nearer, enjoying the feel of her arms around him. It had been too long, and he held her tighter, ensuring this wasn’t a dream. He had visions of the same in Nazil, only to awaken in misery. Not this night. His breathing grew heavy as her hands searched his body, causing his desire to rise. He lost himself in that feeling, until her tongue slid into his mouth.
Wosen’s eyes blinked open, pushing Hibret from his lap. Raising a hand to his lips, he leapt up from the chair, repeatedly wiping his mouth.
“Wosen, what’s wrong?” Hibret asked. She wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head on his back. “What did I do?”
Wosen fought to keep the memories from his mind, but the images, voices, and the pain continued. He shook his head, going back to his chair. “You—you didn’t do anything wrong, Hibret, you never have. I thought being free from Nazil, and back with you…I hoped that I could…that we…” He sighed, shaking his head again. “I’m not free from them. I feel your touch, and it’s their faces, all of them flood my mind as if I were still chained in their cells. What they did to me, all of it takes the joy from us now. I desire your touch,” he said, looking up at her. “I love you more than anyone, but I can’t remove them from my mind. If you knew what they did to me, you’d understand.”
He wiped his mouth again, needing to erase the lingering memories of the taste of bile and seed from it. When he recalled their abuse, he nearly retched: the smells and saltiness assailing him now as it did then. Wosen rushed to the table, lifting the small cruse of wine and draining it.
“Wosen, I don’t know what happened in Nazil, and I won’t have you suffer the memory,” she said, hugging him again. “I’m here for you, my love. We don’t have to do anything but be together. I prayed to have you with me, and I’m grateful for that alone. That’s a greater pleasure for me than any other thing. I can wait as long as you need.”
He shook his head, pushing away. “You shouldn’t have to wait. We’re married now, Hibret, and have dreamt of this night together. I—I just can’t remove it from my mind. I’ll never be the man that you fell in love with again. They’ve ruined me: my mind, my body, everything. You’d be sickened if you saw me.”
Hibret stared at him for a few moments, feeling his pain as if it was her own. The anguish in his eyes nearly caused tears to fall from hers. She took a step back, reaching for her laces.
“If you’re plagued with visions of Nazil, mayhaps replacing them with something more pleasing would aid in your healing,” she said, sliding her dress and skirts to the floor. She didn’t turn from him as she stepped from her slippers, and then slowly removed her stockings.
Wosen licked the dryness from his lips, memorizing every alluring curve of her body. She was more beautiful than he’d imagined. His mouth opened, but he couldn’t speak, not now. He reached out to her, feeling the softness of her flawless skin. After cupping one of her breasts, his thumb gently caressed a nipple before sliding his fingertips down her stomach to the wisps of curly hair beneath. Hibret’s eyes closed as he continued the pleasurable movements.
“I’ve always dreamt of your taste,” he said, bringing a finger to his mouth, inhaling her sweet scent, and then licking the remains from it. “I want to please you, Hibret, more than you know. I just—”
“Look at me, Wosen, and remember what you see. This is all that matters now. If this is what you want, make me know it,” Hibret said, pulling him in for a kiss.
He closed his eyes again, returning her affections and sliding his hands down the curve of her back. His arousal was immediate as he moaned, cupping her arse, and bringing her tighter against him. As her tongue encircled his, Wosen froze, almost moving away. But she held onto him, whispering, “I love you,” against his lips.
His tears nearly came then, fighting against the barrage of images besetting his mind. Please gods, he prayed, feeling her squeeze him tighter.
“Wosen,” she breathed, continuing the kiss.
When his throb increased, he pushed away, not allowing her to approach. “No, please. If your longing is as strong as mine, I need to show you what they did to me. Once you’ve seen it, you might be of a different mind.” Wosen’s voice trembled through each word as he removed his boots and trousers, exposing the mutilated flesh beneath.
“That isn’t the worst of it,” he said, unclasping his tunic. He didn’t meet her eyes, but the gasp and soft cries that followed confirmed what he’d feared.
“You deserve more than I could ever give you, Hibret. I’ve ruined not only myself, but our future as well.”
She couldn’t respond, wiping her tears as she stepped closer. When he tried to replace his tunic, she took it from his hands, tossing it to the floor. Her eyes moved over his body as her fingertips rested on his chest. His breaths stopped, feeling her hands gliding across his body, her fingertips nestling in each groove, and caressing every scab and scar.
“I’m sorry, Wosen,” she said, barely over a whisper. “Your suffering was greater than anyone could’ve imagined.” Her lips gently kissed his, and then moved down his neck, to his chest, kissing each scar. As she kissed up to his lips again, she smiled wistfully, taking his hand.
“My heart aches at what you’ve endured, but I refuse to permit Nazil a place in this chamber. These scars don’t alter the love I have for you,” she said, bringing his hand towards her. “My body craves your touch, husband, and I need you to be a part of me.”
Without another word, she led him to their bed, lying in its center. Wosen stared at her, filled with the warmth of her love and visions of her beauty. Images of Nazil diminished, and only his wife remained.
As he enjoyed her breasts, a hand slid down her abdomen. Hibret’s subsequent moans drowned out the words of the Zaxson, the guards, all of them. Wosen relished the taste and feel of his wife, not removing his hand until her satisfaction was obvious. He met her eyes then, moving over her. She continued to twitch as he saturated himself in her essence. “I love you,” he said, kissing her, and joining them as one.
Hibret gasped, clutching his back and pulling him in closer. When her legs enwrapped his waist, he shuddered, unable to control the release.
“Hibret,” he said, breathlessly. “I—I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it.”
“It wasn’t meant for you to hold. It was meant for our children and me.”
“Are you going to take evening meal, Pentanimir?” Brahanu asked, once they were alone.
“I’m not hungry. Mayhaps I’ll sit near the eternal fire and enjoy the peace of the wood. There’s too much on my mind.”
She glanced up at him, lifting Eytan to her shoulder. “Will you wait here for a moment?”
When he nodded, Brahanu
hurried into the partial hall.
Pentanimir admired the beauty of the wood, attempting to sort through the conflicting thoughts and emotions inundating him. Although he portrayed a placid demeanor, the recent events and coming obligations weighed heavily upon them.
“Pentanimir?” Brahanu said, taking his hand. “Where’s your mind?”
He smiled pensively, gaining strength from not only her touch, but also the loving look in her eyes. “My mind was on many things, but you’ve changed its direction. “Did you need me?” he asked, when she began walking toward the carriages.
“When haven’t I needed you?” She smiled. “It’s been too long since we’ve had any time alone, Pentanimir. I don’t want to be apart from you now, but I understand if you’d rather be alone. If you’re leaving for Nazil, I don’t want to waste another moment with you.”
“No, Brahanu, I’ve missed having you with me,” he said, helping her inside the carriage. Not since their time in Cazaal had they truly been alone. As much as he wanted their closeness, he feared it, too. His love had only grown, and being apart from her intensified the emotion. As he stared into her eyes, the love exuded from them, taking all else from his mind.
Brahanu reached for his other hand, pulling him to her as she lowered on the cot.
“Brahanu—”
Her kiss silenced him, igniting every receptor in his body. He gave into that feeling, returning her kiss with equal fervor.
“Pentanimir,” she said. “I don’t want to lose you. There’s been enough loss in these lands and my heart can’t bear another. I need to feel you inside of me and awaken my body as you have my heart.”
“I’ve always been yours, since first you came to me, it’s always been you,” he said, fumbling with his laces in the dim light.
The Rise of Nazil Page 74