They had ridden through the night, knowing that the Deadlands were drawing close and their time short, but it made no difference. The only result was now their horses were past exhaustion and they would have to find a place to rest while still avoiding enemy patrols.
She twisted in her saddle and looked once more upon the distant wall. “I’m sorry.”
III
Tristan awoke in a cell, the uncomfortable bed causing his body to ache as he sat up. Where the hell were they? A moan from the other side of the small enclosure drew his attention and he saw Token laying spread-eagled on a straining bedframe.
He examined his surroundings as he worked to remember all that had befallen to bring him there. They were in a dungeon, only he didn’t know where, only that it wasn’t back in Lancaster. Across the hallway was another set of cells and he could see Kylee and Willow lying in one, Melissa in another. Getting to his feet, he rushed to the iron bars and tried to make sure they were okay.
The women had been bound and gagged, their feet and hands tied, a piece of cloth placed tightly over their mouths. Willow looked at him with wide eyes, the fear apparent in her face. “Are you okay?”
She’s fine, came the soft weakened voice of their brown-haired magician. He looked to Melissa and saw her sitting up in bed now, her hands behind her back, a large welt on her forehead.
As if to confirm what the witch had said, Willow nodded her head weakly and Kylee was struggling to get upright. He could see the anger and grief in the ranger’s face, and it pained his heart to see the purple and maroon bruises on their faces and arms. All armor had been stripped away and the women wore brown soiled rags that barely hid their naked bodies.
He banged his fist on the bars, ignoring the pain it caused.
“That’s nae helpin’ mah headache,” Token groaned from his bed. “Ay, whaur ur we? Ah ken Ah bevvy a lot, but I’ve ne'er bin throon in a blooter'd tenk afair.”
“This is not a drunk tank and I don’t know where we are,” he whispered to the dwarf harshly. “You’re a dwarf, find us a way out of here.”
“There is no way out, Dark Prince,” a voice said to his left and an older man stepped into view. He wore a golden crown upon his head and long brown regal robes. His face was wrinkled, and he had a long brown beard, but it was the man’s eyes that caught his attention. They looked hauntingly familiar.
Two guards flanked the man and their hands were on their weapons, as if expecting an attack. He backed away from the bars, making it so if they wanted him, they’d have to come in to get him. “Who are you?”
“Do you really not know? Can you not hear it upon the air while I speak to you, Dark Prince of Lancaster?” the man asked as he continued forward to stand before his cell.
Something about the man’s eyes and voice did hint at some hidden recollection, but what was it? “Why do you call me a Dark Prince? I don’t deserve such a title.”
“Do you not, pretender to the throne?” the old man chuckled. “I can see that you still haven’t figured it out, just to show that the apple has fallen very far from the family tree. Ah, but where are my manners. Welcome to Kershaw, Dark Prince.”
Fuck.
“Why did your forces attack us? We pose no threat to Kershaw. Enemy hordes have come from the north and are even now attacking my home. Is it not better to join together and drive them off rather than perish alone? They will come here right after they finish with us,” he told the old man, pleading for him to see reason.
The king chuckled again, putting a hand out and receiving a jug of wine. After a long sip, he grinned at him through the bars. “Oh, I think not. You see, the Queen and I have an understanding, her hordes will never threaten our lands.”
“The Queen?” he asked, confused.
“The Phoenix, boy,” the man cackled, and he felt a nasty chill run up his spine. It was worse than he had feared.
“She suffers no one to share power with her, deal or not. When she’s done enslaving the other races, she will come back to finish you off. Are you so naïve?” he asked, the fear leaking into his voice.
An old gnarly hand gripped the bar and the old man’s face came closer. “I’ve given her my only son to serve and he will ensure our survival.”
“Your son?” he pursued, feeling the dread increasing.
“Clint,” the old man grinned through his blackened teeth. The king turned and spat some nasty brown substance onto the ground and smiled even wider. “I’m sure the two of you have met; he’s the one that told me where to find you.”
Kylee’s eyes were fuming from the bed behind the king and he knew that if her knife had been in hand, it’d be in the old man’s back. She’d heard everything, and like him, the anger was rising with full force.
“Clint killed my parents,” he growled, stepping forward.
The king chuckled some more. “Of course he did, that was what he was sent there to do. Took his time doing it, though. Heh, what can I say, maybe sentiment held back his blade? Still, the deed is done and now he can move onto bigger and better things.”
“What sentiment? That cold cowardly bastard never cared for anyone or anything,” he snapped.
“Oh, my boy, you are so ignorant. Still, I can see the family resemblance even now, and I must admit I understand my son’s reservations. Yet, my nephew, be assured that our shared blood bond will not deter the executions from going forward on schedule,” the king told him.
What the hell was going on? He looked deeper into the mad-king’s eyes and realized where he’d seen them before, and the words that had just been uttered made everything become clear. “Uncle Richard.”
The old man cackled with delight.
Any chance that he’d had to argue or plead was gone. He knew from the insane look in the other’s eyes that their doom had been sealed. “If its revenge you want, I’m here, let the others go. They have nothing to do with any of this.” Dark Prince, pretender to the throne, the man clearly sought to revenge himself for the injustices done to him in the past. Yet, he was an agent of evil, working alongside the Phoenix, what doom had Lancaster been saved from by exiling this mad-man? And Clint was his cousin; his blood.
Richard shook his head, never losing the smirk on his face. “Elves are abominations and cannot be tolerated to exist. They both will hang. As to the witch, well, the Phoenix has ordered her put to the torch for her interference in her affairs. The dwarf, I’ll hang just to see what the short man looks like dangling from a rope.”
“Leibz maamr as bi an ha'ak!” Token cursed at the elder man.
The king laughed. “That may be, after all, that whore gave birth to an ungrateful bastard of a son that took what’s rightfully mine and bred his own weak whelps to keep it. Still, she was my mother, and if you utter one more word, I’ll order your tongue ripped from your mouth and stapled to your chest, you filthy half-breed midget!”
Token got to his feet, hands clenching, and Tristan was forced to stand between them to break the king’s focus on his short companion. “Please, Uncle, you don’t have to do this. It’s not too late to side with us, to do what’s right.”
“Since when does Constantine’s whelps do what’s right? No, I’m afraid it’s much too late for that. The gallows are being erected and before nightfall, I will make you watch as all four of your companions are executed before your eyes, before personally removing your head and mounting it on my wall,” Richard sneered at him, eyes dancing with glee. “Though, I’m not a true heartless bastard, no sense letting these women go to hell without proper bedding first.”
The old man nodded to the guards and they began moving to the cells across the way. With a wide smile, the king’s mouth hung open as he spoke, “think I’ll personally find out what your girlfriend tastes like.”
Tristan, close your eyes, a voice pleaded with him, as the two men entered the cell and began restraining Willow’s arms. Her eyes found his and his heart tore to pieces. Defeated, he fell to his knees before the cackling king, pow
erless as the man turned his back and entered the cell across from him. Even muffled, he could hear the screams and he began to cry.
“My Lord!” came a booming voice from down the hall.
The mad-king had his pants around his legs and lay against his struggling victim. “Go away!” the old man grunted.
He couldn’t look, his vision had blurred, his mind fogged.
“I’m sorry, my Lord, Serena says you’ve been summoned to attend your Queen and must come immediately,” the guard relayed, yet Tristan barely heard it as his heart thrummed in his ears. He couldn’t protect her; he was useless.
The old man grunted. “Can’t it wait a few more minutes?”
“No, my Lord, she says you must come right away,” the man continued, unmoved by the king’s defiance.
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” the old man mumbled, yet he had gotten back up and began putting his pants back on. “This had better be important,” he grumbled as he walked from the cell. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be back,” Richard mocked, before following the guard down the hall.
The other two men had locked the cell and followed after, leaving them alone for the moment.
He drove himself to his feet. “Willow? Please tell me you’re okay?”
His fiancé’s head was turned away and he could hear her muffled sobs as she lay there with her bottom half exposed. Her arms were tied behind her back and she couldn’t cover herself back up. Angrily, he beat his fist against the bars, unable to control the hurt and rage in his heart.
He didn’t do anything, he couldn’t. For all his talk, he was just a limp noodle, Melissa softly whispered to him.
That didn’t make him feel any better. The thought of that man even—
As long as I’m gagged, I cannot use my magic, but that doesn’t mean my mind is bound as well. It’s not that hard to enter a man’s mind and turn his urges against him. It’s the opposite of what I did to you when we first met. Trust me, none of them will be allowed to violate us in that way, I promise you, Melissa’s voice informed him.
With tears in his eyes, he continued to struggle against the bars. “Willow, I’m sorry. I love you, I’m sorry.”
Still, she would not even look at him.
Kylee had taken her arms and forced them below her rear, bringing them before her once more. Though she tried, her fingers could not budge the knots that were binding her feet, and she forced herself up and inched towards Willow’s bed. He watched with mixed sorrow and relief when Kylee finally reached her sister and adjusted her rags, covering her exposed flesh, then crawled in bed next to her. He could see the shaking shoulders of his lover and his soul cried from not being able to reach her.
With a scream of rage, he struggled against the bars, crying out his need for vengeance.
IV
A short time later the door opened again, and he looked up from his crouched position on the floor, fearing that the old man had returned to finish the job. His eyes were puffy, swollen from the tears he’d been crying. Token sat across from him and looked towards the sound of approaching footsteps, the saddened dwarf sympathizing with his pain.
“Hello,” a soft female voice whispered through the bars and he forced his gaze up.
A woman in black robes hovered on the other side of the cell, her smooth slender face pale behind a pair of startling amber eyes. Evil radiated off her being and he felt jolted under her stare. Silent, he didn’t acknowledge her, unable to even talk as his throat had closed up.
“Don’t worry, your Uncle won’t be returning. He’s in trouble at the moment and is a bit, tied up trying to make it right,” she purred softly.
Tristan, this is a very powerful witch, be careful, Melissa cautioned needlessly. He could feel the danger he was in; that they were all in.
The woman hissed and glanced in Melissa’s direction; the smooth features gone in an almost snake-like manner. “Shut your trap witch or I’ll have a guard shut it for you. Now, where were we?’ the woman purred, calm once more as she knelt before him and smiled. “My Queen has told me that you possessed some—items that belong to her, she would like them back. Where are they?”
He shook his head weakly, not sure what the other woman was getting at.
“You see, that old fool was told that when he rounded your group up to make sure they brought all your possessions with you, and it seems like there were some items missing, two swords?” the witch cooed; he could feel the woman’s magic weaving through his brain, beckoning him to talk.
He groaned in answer, his mouth still unable to give voice to his thoughts, despite the woman’s continued efforts.
Sighing, the witch rose to her feet and withdrew a key from her robes. Inserting it into the lock, she undid the door and turned to the rising dwarf. “Ut pernoctabit,” she commanded, and Token immediately hit the cell floor and began snoring. “Now, kiss my feet,” she told him and though his entire soul resisted, he felt his body begin to bend over and comply.
No! his mind cried as his lips touched her bared and outstretched leg. He felt his lips kiss them softly and felt the revulsion of the cold skin’s touch.
“Now, lay on the bed,” the woman commanded him once more and his body complied, ignoring his instructions to do the opposite. Stop! he yelled within the jail that had become his mind, yet his body stretched out on the bunk, laying prone and awaiting command. Melissa! Help me!
He knew that he’d been heard but he received no answer. He heard muffled cries from the cell across the way, but his eyes refused to follow their sound. They were locked on the witch’s as she slid a finger along her robes and slid them free.
Trying to regain control of his body, he tried to mentally block the other woman’s control, but the fingers slithering across his thoughts only tightened in response. Why had he not learned from Merlin how to keep people out?
A tear slithered from the corner of his eye as the now naked, full breasted woman, stared down at him and commanded his hands to remove his clothing. They did as they were bid, and his horror intensified. This was beyond violation, he could do nothing to resist, he was powerless.
“There are other ways, of course, to extract the information I need, but this is the most fun. You see, if your girlfriend over there was allowed to carry to term, your bastard child would be a very powerful adversary for my Queen to deal with. That is why, no matter how much you beg or resist, she will be executed in the next few hours, silencing that threat forever,” the witch told him, sliding his clothes upon the floor and climbing on top of him.
He couldn’t move his body, but he could feel everything, and the sickening violation continued as she slid onto him, her hands upon his chest. “Now, if a child like that can be born to a lowly pathetic elf, what would come from a powerful witch like me?” she asked him, her face contorting with pleasure as her hips began to move.
Mentally fighting for control, he willed his hands to push her off, but they betrayed him and lay upon her full and perky breasts, twisting her nipples with his fingers. He could feel the blood pumping, the euphoria spreading, yet still he resisted. He could not let this happen.
“Oh, do keep fighting, it makes this so much more intense,” the witch cackled, her hips sliding faster, and her head thrown back. She fell forward upon him and forced her tongue into his mouth. He gagged as the long slithering muscle probed further than it should’ve been able to reach. Her hips were still moving and to his horror, his body was rising to meet her.
“Harder,” she whispered, biting his lips as he felt his body increase its thrusts. Her fingers slid across his temples and she dove into his mind as her moans increased.
Unbidden, the memories of everything that had happened since meeting up with Merlin flew through his mind, every bit revealed and inspected. “Faster,” she commanded and with strength and speed he had never known, his body complied with her request. His meeting with his father, the battle in the forest, the climb up the mountain, the revealing of the swords, all of it was
laid bare as his body rushed towards climax.
Body spasming, he watched in horror as she got off, screaming with her moans. Distantly, he could hear the protests from the other cell, but he was lost to his uninvited orgasm and the raping of his mind. She continued on, exploring what had happened when he had been captured, searching for knowledge of where the swords had gone, but it was useless, as the last time that he’d seen them was when he’d tucked them under their bedrolls before turning in for the night. He had no idea why they hadn’t been found.
Though he was well past spent, the witch looked in his eyes and silently commanded his body to keep going. It reacted to her words and the violation continued as images flowed from the witch of what the executions would be like, watching Melissa begin to burn as Token, Kylee, and Willow were hung one at a time, his Uncle Richard laughing in the background. His soul cried as his body quickened once more, her hips milking every drop.
Then it was over, and her body slid free.
“See what I mean? So much better than torturing it out of you, and now I know everything,” the witch grinned at him. He hated her with every core of his being as he lay there naked, violated, exposed, and wished for control of his limbs so he could rip her apart. “Tsk, tsk, don’t be like that. You wouldn’t kill the mother of your unborn child, would you? Oh yes, my magic is strong and well-woven. Don’t worry, I’ll look after him. Too bad your son will never know what a worthless piece of crap his father is. Maybe I’ll save your skull and let him play with it, like one of those worthless toys you give your kids.”
Her robes were sliding back on, her smile wicked as she exited the cell and relocked the door. Grinning, she turned to the two elves glaring at them across the way. “I see why you love him, he is rather young and vigorous,” she spat at Willow, who was staring daggers at her. “Goodbye for now, young father-to-be, I’ll be seeing you all real soon,” she cooed, then wiggled her fingers releasing his body back to his control. Instantly his hands dove for his clothes yet flinched when her laughter echoed loudly against the dungeon’s walls.
The New Age Saga Box Set Page 42