heartofthebetrayed_195-8e3.htm

by Heart Of The Betrayed (lit)

  "Ooh," dreamily moaned the young woman. "They are so young, so--"

  "Dangerously handsome?" sighed her much older friend longingly.

  Dangerously handsome, yes. Rakishly handsome, definitely. Hair long and flowing freely over broad shoulders and swelling pectorals. The single silver hoop they each wore in their left earlobe caught the sunlight, winking seductively.

  The same sunlight danced over their magnificent bodies, displayed for lustful eyes in nothing but loincloths that came only down to mid-thigh.

  "Oh, shit," muttered Dana at exactly the same second the bidding exploded into a frenzy of screaming and fistfuls of money.

  Well pleased with the response, Gera grinned broadly. With the money from the sale of these males, she’d have more than enough to buy them for a few nights of pleasure. But... business before pleasure. She kept her attention warily on the two men, the control button pressed halfway down, enough to ensure that pain kept them still, one step from total agony. Obedience collars had their use.

  Her fellow slaver came forward, calling the bids that rose higher and higher. Seven hundred dinnos, eight, nine, one thousand, fifteen hundred and still higher.

  The women were caught up in a wave of lust and no one noticed the tall warrior push her way to the front of the possessed crowd.

  No one noticed until she leaped agilely up onto the dais and fired her laser into the air, the sharp crackle cutting through the raised voices, and sending the Southlanders stumbling back, bewildered.

  Six

  "What the hell--?" Recovering first, Gera started forward angrily, only to stop and pale as the laser swung around to cover her.

  Her eyes shifted from the laser to the blonde warrior wielding it. Tall and strong, feminine muscles playing easily beneath the honey-tanned skin. A short, split leather skirt came to mid-thigh, rawhide boots stopping below shapely knees. The vest was sleeveless and only the tight rawhide lacing at the front held it in place. The hilt of a sword showed high behind the warrior’s shoulder.

  A deadly weapon to match the deadly look in the heavily fringed, hazel eyes.

  "What’s going on, stranger?" Gera asked warily. "What’s the meaning of this?"

  "I’m here for my slaves."

  "What slaves?"

  "The two that were stolen from me," came the harsh reply.

  A strong sense of foreboding filled Gera and her gaze darted to the pained faces of the men behind the warrior, seeing the spark of hope and recognition in them.

  "Who’re the slaves?" someone yelled. "Hurry up so we can return to the bidding for these two!"

  Smiling coldly, Dana kept her gaze trained on Gera. "There will be no bidding for these two particular men."

  "What are you talking about?" the woman called back irritably, still not understanding. "Do you know them?"

  Gera’s eyes hardened.

  "Aye," Dana replied. "These two are my slaves."

  A shocked silence fell upon the bidders, then a protesting roar filled the square.

  "Gera, no!"

  "It cannot be so!"

  "You lie, stranger! You just want them for yourself!"

  Dana stared directly at Gera. "What say you, slaver?"

  Her jaw clenched furiously. "What proof have you? They are not marked in any way with ownership!"

  The thought of this hard-faced bitch inspecting Garret--and Jase--for marks made Dana’s temper boil, but years of training kept her face impassive. "I don’t like my merchandise marked, slaver. Now hand them over to me."

  "No." The Southlander’s face tightened. "I’d advise you to leave now, while you still can, and while you’re still alive."

  "Dana," Garret whispered, voice raw with pain. "To your left..."

  Without looking, she knew that someone had a weapon aimed at her, but she betrayed no fear. Her eyes were mocking as she held her own laser unwaveringly at the slaver. "If I die, we both go. What say you to that?"

  "You’re bluffing."

  The low whine of the laser sounded as her finger tightened on the trigger. "Am I?"

  Looking into hard eyes, Gera knew she faced death. She swallowed.

  "Hold!" a sharp voice cracked with authority.

  "Zar!" Gera glanced with relief at the red-haired woman striding grimly through the crowd.

  Immediately feminine voices rose in shrieked protest and yelled explanations. Scowling, Zar stepped up onto the dais. At her first close look at the intruder who had interrupted the slave auction, her eyes widened. "You!"

  "It’s a nice welcome to Southland, Zar."

  The Southland leader looked at the slaver. "What’s going on, Gera?"

  "She claims these males are her slaves."

  Her gaze flicked back to the warrior, before cutting briefly to the pained giants behind her. "Your slaves, stranger?"

  "Aye, mine. Stolen from me." Dana paused, then continued deliberately, "While I was saving your life."

  A murmur swept the Southlanders.

  Zar’s lips tightened. "These men were not stolen, but found wandering the woods."

  "With my permission."

  Gera glared at Dana. "Slaves will run at the first opportunity. You can’t tell me that you allow them free reign. I refuse to believe it!"

  "I don’t have to explain myself or my actions to you, slaver." Contempt filled the words. "As I said, Zar, such a nice welcome."

  Not liking the situation one bit, the Southlander frowned. This stranger had saved her life and she was not one to forget that sort of thing. Her gaze switched to the two men. "They have no markings. How can you prove that they belong to you?"

  "I know them and they know me."

  "Where’s the proof?" Gera sneered.

  "Proof?" Fine brows arched. "Turn off your pain machine and you shall have it."

  "Turn it off? These male pigs will attack us all!"

  "They’ll obey me. Now turn it off."

  Frantically, Gera looked at a thoughtful Zar. "No! How can we control them? You saw them. They are not to be trusted."

  Dana waited, calm and coolly unconcerned outwardly, but tense on the inside and ready for action.

  The watching Southlanders waited in hushed silence for their leader to speak.

  "Zar!" Gera prompted urgently.

  "You wanted proof," Dana said smoothly. "I’ll give it to you. What have you got to lose? You hold the obedience mechanism. You can inflict disabling pain if I’m proven false."

  "Very well, stranger." Zar held her hand out to Gera. "Give me the box."

  "What? Surely you can’t believe the lies of this woman?"

  "What do you fear, slaver?" Dana smiled mockingly. "That I’ll be proven true?"

  The taunt struck home. "You’ll be proven false!"

  "Gera!" Suddenly impatient to get the episode dealt with and over, Zar spoke sharply. "The box. Now."

  Sullenly she handed it to her leader. "If the slaves don’t kill you, this stranger will."

  The cold blue eyes dropped to the laser. "What do you say? I am willing for you to prove your claims, are you willing to meet me halfway and lower your weapon?"

  "Sure, why not?" Dana lowered the laser, hoping she wasn’t mistaken, and that the cold-eyed Southland leader wouldn’t order her death. If she did, she swore to herself that she’d take both the redhead and the slaver into Death’s embrace with her, but somehow she had a feeling that Zar wasn’t that dirty in her dealings.

  She was correct.

  Zar gazed at her then nodded, releasing the button. Immediately Garret and Jase sagged to their knees in relief, massive chests heaving.

  "Proof, stranger," she said quietly.

  "Proof!" someone echoed and the chant was taken up by hundreds of females. "Proof! Proof! Proof!"

  Sharply bringing her hand up, Zar’s face registered disapproval. "Control!"

  The chant died off quietly.

  She turned back to Dana. "I await this proof."

  Tension was thick in the air, with a mixture of anticipat
ion and curiosity.

  "Proof is in the obedience of my slaves," Dana repeated.

  Zar nodded sharply.

  The Daamens are proud and stubborn. If they took it into their heads to take matters into their own hands... Ah, well, there was no turning back now. What will be, will be.

  Without changing position to see where the men were positioned behind her, and without removing her gaze from the Southland leader, Dana held her arms by her side and snapped her fingers. The sound was loud in the hushed silence.

  "Jase! Garret! Heel!" Oh God, oh God, please don’t let them choose now to be outraged! To be stubborn! To roar out their indignation! To--

  Soft hair brushed her fingertips on one side, long strands tickling her bare legs, and the warm presence of a big body on either side of her registered. Thank God.

  The Southlanders stared in awed shock at the two giants kneeling so meekly beside the young warrior, their heads bowed submissively.

  Zar’s eyes dropped to the two men then returned to Dana. "Well, well."

  Fury trembled in Gera’s voice. "That is your proof? Not enough, stranger, not nearly enough!"

  Dana ignored her, attention focused fully on Zar.

  Zar pursed her lips. "It seems likely that they’re your slaves, for they weren’t so submissive with us."

  "You can’t give them to her without proof!" Gera clenched her fists.

  "Impressive, yes, but I require more proof," Zar stated.

  The tension in the traders was clearly felt by Dana. "Control? I’ll show you complete control." She moved forward. "Step back."

  Curiously, Zar did as bidden, motioning to Gera to do the same.

  Dana paced to the end of the dais, turned, and faced the two traders. Slowly, she reached back and withdrew the sword from the sheath on her back, the sharp rasp loud in the stillness.

  The Daamens lifted their heads to look at her, their faces impassive.

  At the sight of the bloodied bandana around Garret’s head, her heart lurched. Dried blood marked one side of his face, which was pale from pain.

  Blocking her emotions, she said, "Spread your knees, Garret." Please, please, trust me. Do it.

  She wasn’t sure if he paled even more, but he did as ordered. With an expert flick of her wrist, Dana sent the sword spinning into a gleaming whirl into the air, catching it by the handle, and before anyone could say anything, she sent it in a flashing spin at Garret. It thunked loudly when it hit, piercing the loin cloth and driving into the wood. Garret didn’t move but a trickle of sweat slipped down the side of his face.

  An awed gasp came from the watchers.

  Zar raised her eyebrows.

  "Jase, bring me the sword. On your knees."

  Only she saw the brief flash of mortified anger in his blue eyes. To the observers, he appeared submissive, reaching out to yank the sword easily from the wood and his friend’s loincloth. With apparent unconcern, Dana watched Jase shuffle forward on his knees and stop before her with bowed head, the sword laid flat in his hands, proffered up to her.

  Without a word, she took it and resheathed it smoothly, transferring her gaze to Zar. "Satisfied?"

  "Yes. I believe the slaves do belong to you. I don’t know of anyone else who would have such control over them."

  Dana nodded abruptly. "Good. Now I will take them and go." She snapped her fingers. "Up, slaves."

  Watching the giants push to their feet and stand silently with heads bowed, the Southland leader noted their submission and wondered how the blonde controlled them.

  "I’m still not convinced, stranger," Gera snapped.

  "I don’t care."

  "Before you go," Zar said, "I would that you shared a drink with me in my home. As my apology for the misunderstanding in regards to your slaves."

  Dana hesitated.

  "Unless you have something to hide?" Gera sneered.

  Damn the bitch for putting her in a corner! "Of course not. Lead on, Zar."

  She followed the Southlander from the dais, jerking her head at the Daamens who silently followed her. The crowd parted before them, closing ranks once they’d passed to whisper amongst themselves.

  Gera watched the tall warrior with hatred in her heart.

  They walked down the streets swiftly, finally coming to a stop before a large cement dwelling. It was the largest home in the city from what Dana had seen. The home of a leader. Entering into a long corridor, she noted rooms opening on either side.

  Zar led them into the second room on the left. "Take a seat, stranger. There are mats on the floor for your slaves to rest on."

  Dana sat in a comfortable armchair. Zar called out to someone through the door. Behind her back, Garret glowered at Dana. In return, she arched one brow coolly.

  Zar turned around and Garret’s face became expressionless instantly.

  A young male slave entered noiselessly, his bare feet quiet on the floor. The tunic he wore came only to mid-thigh. Quickly and efficiently he poured drinks and handed them to Dana and Zar, before sitting on one of the mats beside the traders. His eyes stayed attentively on his mistress.

  Zar ignored him. "I still don’t know your name, stranger."

  "It’s Dana."

  "Ah. And where do you come from, Dana, to own two such magnificent slaves?" The cold eyes were watchful over the goblet rim.

  "There are many things you can get in the Outlaw Sector, for the right price."

  "True. We don’t get many visitors to Orkra."

  "I’m not surprised. Land in the wrong section and you’re automatically a slave."

  Zar laughed. "True again." She sobered, gaze turning to the giants kneeling on the mats. "So, how do you keep them submissive? What is your secret?"

  A devilish streak coursed through Dana. "A firm hand."

  A muscle twitched in Garret’s jaw but his expression gave nothing away.

  "What is their performance like in bed?"

  "Bed?" Bloody hell.

  "Yes. They are lusty, aren’t they? All the young ones are." The watchful gaze switched to the young slave boy, who smiled vaguely back at her. "Your slaves are hearty and strong. Very strong."

  Dana had to say something. Curse it. "They have stamina."

  It was with great effort that she prevented the hot color from stealing into her cheeks. Carefully, she avoided looking at Garret.

  "Stamina? Yes, I think they would need it," Zar said thoughtfully. "You, too, are young and... healthy, and also beautiful. That always fans the flames of desire."

  This was getting too personal! "How many slaves do you own?"

  "Five. The two older ones tend the house and gardens. The other three," her eyes again fell on the boy, "Tend to whatever I ask from them. Is that not correct, slave?"

  "Yes, my mistress."

  "And you?" Zar asked. "How many slaves have you?"

  "Not as many as you. I’m afraid these two are enough for me."

  Zar laughed.

  "I must go." Dana stood up abruptly. "I thank you for your hospitality. Now I must return to my ship and the repairs awaiting."

  "Of course." She got up and led the way to the door. Opening it, she sighed. "Unfortunately, your trip must be delayed."

  Dana tensed. "What do you mean?"

  "A storm brews and storms on Orkra brew fast and become quite savage."

  Was everything against her? Peering out, she saw the rolling, black clouds. Wind had started to gust down the street, whipping dirt up in stinging puffs. Even as she looked, heavy drops of rain started to fall.

  Zar shut the door. "You are welcome to stay the night in my home."

  That was the last thing Dana wanted. Then her gaze fell on the bloodied bandana around Garret’s head. If the storm did become savage, would he make it? His face was still pale.

  "Ah, you want to spend time with your slaves." The Southlander smiled understandingly. "I will ensure privacy, Dana. The house is big. I will put you far enough away that no one will hear anything."

  An
iron will put the smile on Dana’s face. "You are considerate. Thank you."

  "No problem. Come, I will show you your room for the night."

  Dana followed her out, calling sharply as she did so, "Garret, Jase, come!"

  She didn’t need to look to know that they obeyed her. She could feel their eyes burning into her back.

  Zar led the way through three long corridors before halting at a door. "These are your rooms. Your slaves would normally sleep in the quarters beneath the house but," she smirked a little, "Of course you want them close by at this time. Here is the obedience control to their collars. Try it out, Dana, you might enjoy it."

  Her smile was tight. "Thank you."

  "I have meetings this afternoon. No one will disturb you. I’ll instruct my slaves to stay on the other side of the house. Do make yourself at home." Zar started to walk away.

  "How long do the storms last?" Dana asked.

  "It will clear by morning." Zar disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

  Dana was alone with two very irate traders. With a sigh she opened the door and entered the room, Garret and Jase on her heels.

  The room was large, with two armchairs and a long sofa dominating the middle. Heavily embroidered rugs were scattered across the floor, and dark, red velvet curtains hung at the windows, outside of which rain teemed down heavily. A door in the back of the room led to a bedroom. Peering in, she saw a large four-poster bed in the middle of the shiny, black-tiled floor. The cement walls were white. A cold room to look at in comparison to the sitting room, but she’d slept in worse places.

  Turning, she found herself facing two angry traders, one with folded arms, the other with big fists planted on lean hips. "What?"

  "You treat us like pet hounds and still you ask ‘what’?" Garret ground out between clenched teeth.

  One brow arched up mischievously. "I had to prove ownership."

  "By nearly destroying my manhood?" he snarled.

  A gleam of amusement showed in her eyes. "Are we being symbolic here?"

  "Symbolic?"

  "Yes, symbolic. As in your manhood being severely bruised pride because you had to kneel at my feet, or your manhood as in your... er..." her gaze flickered to the loincloth barely covering his privates decently "...manhood?"