Chains of Revenge (6 page)

The woman she’d shut away after the hurricane leapt into life. All her wild, playful self reared up and came out. She pressed against his tongue with hers, tangling with him, taking him in. Her hands slid down his body to his buttocks and she pushed him hard against her, feeling his erection press against her pussy. She wiggled as she kissed him and dark delight surged within her when she heard him groan into her mouth. Wiggling some more, she moved so his cock was right on her clit. Laughter burbled inside her, only to be cut off by a voice of rage.

‘This is outrageous. Her father promised her to me. I am the King of Catiscal and therefore your Lord. Do you forget the bonds to your family? Hand her over immediately.’

Lissa broke the kiss and turned to see Antos shaking with fury, looking ready to launch himself at Devadas.

‘I don’t think so, Brother. I think the lady has indicated where her affections lie.’

He still held Lissa and she again felt the safety of his arms. Maybe it wasn’t such an illusion.

Antos held himself back, after glancing around for his troops and seeing the much larger numbers of Devadas’s army, now fully at attention. He glared at Devadas, then at Lissa.

‘I give you one more chance, Lissa. Come with me and end this madness or face the consequences.’

‘And what consequences would they be, My Lord Antos?’ she asked.

Antos turned and stalked back to his horse. He mounted and pulled on the reins, forcing his mount to rear up. ‘War,’ he said. ‘A war that will sweep Horvald away. Then I’ll have you. Over the body of my traitorous brother, I’ll have you.’

With a final snort from his stallion, he turned, called his troops to him and galloped out of the square.

Devadas still held Lissa and she felt his mouth against her ear.

‘Well. No rest for the wicked. We have a marriage to plan and a war to fight, My Lady. We best get busy.’ Lissa pulled away from him.

‘He won’t give up, you know. He wants Horvald and he wants me.’

Devadas’s mouth curved in a slow, tantalising smile. ‘So do I. I’ve survived for ten, long years for just that. I don’t intend to give up now.’ He pulled on the chain. ‘Come. Your punishment awaits.’

But wait she did. Devadas called together his commanders and proceeded to plan fortifications to Horvald. Lissa listened approvingly as he made his arrangements, occasionally offering a suggestion as to what part of Horvald was the most vulnerable. Devadas listen to her gravely, questioning her and adjusting his plans. When everything was complete, he ordered his commanders to take up their positions with their troops and turned his intense gaze to Lissa.

‘Come, My Lady. It is time to retire for the night. Take me to your house, feed me and then we will see to your correction.’

Anxiety fluttered like trapped moths in her belly. ‘Correction? What is there about me that needs correction? I thought this was about punishment.’

‘Punishment is always about correction. Didn’t you know that?’

He pulled her by the chain, which she’d managed to forget while planning the fortifications. She knew his commanders had looked at her curiously, some with sympathy, like Luc and Alain, and others with lust, but had ignored them in the discussion of how to protect Horvald. And Devadas had not been interested in flaunting her slave status.

But now, he gazed at her like a predator about to capture a long-desired feed. He motioned her forward so she turned and walked out of the Great Hall, back to the square. The house where she lived with her father was at the opposite end of the square. She’d helped build it and was proud of the stone and wood structure, so different to the dark presence of the Great Hall. The people of Horvald called it the Great House and said it was a reminder of what Horvald would become while the Great Hall reminded them of what it once was.

Devadas’s troops and some townsfolk were in the square. Devadas did not allow her to walk too far ahead of him, keeping her close with a tug of the chain. Fury consumed her. She wanted to rip the lead out of his hand again, but she knew he’d learned to keep a tight grasp on it now. If he thought she would submit like a whipped dog, he was mistaken.

Everyone watched her in silence.

She could feel his gaze on her back like a hot brand. He wanted something from her, something more than just her punishment. He was obsessed. Fear bloomed in her chest, making her lungs battle for air. He said he wouldn’t kill her, but in his state of compulsion, she wasn’t sure what he was capable of. Would his hatred, so intermingled with his lust, push him over the edge?

As long as he protected Horvald she would do what he wanted. Lissa kept the image of Ris in her mind, and images of all her other people, going about their business, making lives for themselves. That couldn’t be destroyed.

Through her fear and determination, a small, tight ball of grief pushed its way into her chest. Yes, he lusted after her and wanted her, but through the ten long years she’d loved him. What a fool she’d been. Loving a man who would use his lust to show her how much he hated her. He would ravish her, use her body as a master uses a slave and, she didn’t doubt, reawaken her own desire that had long since lain dormant. He would take pleasure in her craving for his rough touch, for the feel of his cock in her body. But he wouldn’t want her love.

Lissa reached the Great House and smiled as Ris came rushing out.

‘My Lady …’ She saw the chain and glared at Devadas. ‘Do you still continue this foolishness?’

‘I do, indeed, Mistress Ris. But now we are at home, I can dispense with the chain.’ He fiddled with her gold collar and undid the lead. ‘Come, my betrothed. Show me your house.’

With a sigh of relief, Lissa stepped toward Ris and hugged her.

‘It’s alright, Ris. I’m all right. The Warlord Death won’t hurt me.’

Oh, Goddess make that true
.

‘The Warlord Death needs refreshment, Ris. Could you lay some out in my chambers?’

Ris frowned and glared again at Devadas. He smiled back at her, cocky and assured. Ris muttered as she made her way to the kitchens.

‘This way,’ Lissa said as she led him through the house that she’d come to love. It was her creation, the place where she felt the most at ease. It was grand, grander than she’d wanted, but the townspeople had wanted a house fit for their king and his daughter.

But she’d made a corner for herself that was truly her home. She led him through the massive dining room which had become a de facto meeting area for the town, then through the corridors to a narrow staircase. Climbing to the top she stopped and pointed to the right.

‘The king’s quarters are down there. I’ll have my father’s belongings removed if you want to use them.’

In the space of a second, the reality of her father’s death came crashing down on her. She was never sure if she’d really loved him, but now, knowing she wouldn’t see him again, a hot, bitter kernel of regret lodged in her chest. She didn’t even know where his body was. Swaying slightly at the top of the stairs, tears clogged in her throat.

‘My father… where…’

‘We buried him on the battlefield. It’s marked with his shield and sword. You can go and see him.’

The softness in his voice warmed her. She nodded, unable to speak, then turned left to her own quarters. All she wanted was to light a fragrant candle, say her prayers to the Goddess and sink into her bed, hoping sleep would claim her. Many times she’d done just that, after days of hard work and effort. Her quarters looked out over the town. Sometimes she’d stand at her window, feeling the night air stream in and worry about the days and weeks ahead, worry about the weather, the crops, about if they had enough put away for the winter. Now she worried if she’d survive this night.

She turned to watch Devadas as he surveyed his surroundings. Through her fear and anxiety, she hadn’t had a chance to really look at him, to take in the reality of the man in front of her. Older and battle-scarred, he was still the man who inflamed her passion and set off a yearning deep inside her soul. That was what confused her. She wanted him sexually; there was no doubt about that. She wanted him to push and pull and wrestle her back into that space of mind-numbing ecstasy.

But even now, there was something about him that pulled hard at her emotions. He was hurt. He’d always been hurt. As a slave and now as a great warlord, his eyes were like two dark pools of pain. He might look at her with lust and amusement, but behind that lurked pain and despair so deep it was all she could do to not pull him to her, cradle him in her arms and try and erase that pain with her body and her love.

She was an idiot. Out of her depth like a young girl with her first love, not sure what the rules were. But that’s what he was, wasn’t he? Her first love, the man she’d never forgotten. So much so, she’d never let another man touch her. Now her people saw her as their mother, sexless and dedicated, not wanting the distraction of a man.

Only this man knew that wasn’t the truth. She was far from sexless, capable of night after night of hard, sweaty sex, of greediness for his body and for her own release.

He stood there, in her most cherished space and Lissa wanted him. Her cunt pulsed as if coming alive after years of denial. She turned away as Ris bustled in, not wanting the older woman to see the naked lust on her face.

Ris laid out food on the table that Lissa used as her workspace, glared again at Devadas and left.

‘She doesn’t like me,’ he said.

‘And this surprises you?’

‘Lots of women do like me.’

‘Maybe those who haven’t watched you pull their friend around on a lead.’

‘Friend? Is that what she is? Not a glorified slave?’

Lissa opened her mouth to protest but stopped, turning away to stare at the table.

She planned and dreamed at this table, toting up accounts and calculating how much wheat needed to be planted to sell and how much they would need to keep. Sometimes Ris and the other women of the household would join her for ale and sweet biscuits as they talked through the events of the day and what needed to be done. They were good times where she’d felt useful with her family around her.

Now a dark, tormented man sat at her table and gazed ruefully at what Ris had provided, unable to believe that Lissa had changed and Horvald with her.

‘Ris is my friend, my mother and my helper. You’re right in that I couldn’t do what I need to without her. Does that make her a slave? You’d have to ask her that.’

He grunted and sat, motioning her to do the same. He filled a plate with food and ate as if starving.

‘When was the last time you had anything to eat?’ she asked.

‘Yesterday. Battle was upon us. We had no time for anything else.’

She looked more closely and saw he was tired and grimy.

‘You need a bath and some sleep. I’ll organise both.’

She rose to do so and found her wrist caught in a vice.

‘You don’t want to fuck with a dirty, death-filled master?’

She wrenched her wrist free and stepped back from the mockery in his eyes.

‘Not if I have a choice. I’ve told you I’ll do what you want. You don’t have to behave like a child.’

He laughed at her. ‘I’m nothing like a child.’

She snorted. ‘That’s exactly what you are. A child who can’t get the toy he wants so has a tantrum.’ She crossed to the doorway and called down the stairs.

‘Ris? Ris, could you bring some water for washing? And see if there are any clothes for the Warlord Death to wear. Just a shirt and some breeches. There should be some of my father’s clothes in the mending basket that would do.’

‘Don’t let her do all the work,’ he said when she came back into the room.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I want to see if you are telling the truth about not using slaves.’

She stood in the centre of the room and regarded him gravely. Then she nodded and made for stairs again, hearing Ris. The older woman was half way up, carrying an empty bath. It was just big enough for a person to stand in while sluicing with a cloth.

When the house was built, one of Lissa’s ideas was to build a water room onto the house where everyone could immerse themselves in big baths once a week. She’d asked the builders to set up a system of pipes that took the used water out of the house and onto the flower and kitchens gardens. She could insist that Devadas use the room rather than have Ris and the other household members cart water up the stairs, but she didn’t want Devadas out in the rest of the house. There was something about him she wanted to keep to herself. Some element of rage she wanted to protect others from.

She hurried down the stairs and pulled the awkward bath from Ris. ‘Give me that. It’s too heavy for you to carry on your own.’

Ris snorted. ‘It’s nothing. I can carry more than this, as you well know.’

Lissa felt Ris’s piercing stare on her neck where the gold chain winked in the dim light of the stairwell.

‘If he hurts you, scream for all you’re worth,’ she whispered. ‘Val and I and the others are just here. We’ll come in an instant.’

Lissa made her way back up the stairs but threw a grateful look over her shoulder. ‘I don’t think he’ll hurt me,’ she whispered back, trying to sound convincing. ‘Call me when the water is ready and I’ll help you with it,’ she said in a loud voice.

Lissa carried the bath into her bedroom and placed it in the centre of the room, bending with a grunt. It was awkward rather than heavy.

‘The hot water is coming and so are some clothes.’

‘I won’t wear your father’s clothes.’

Lissa straightened and stared at him, considering. ‘Then you won’t wear anything. I don’t have any other clothes that will fit you. Clothes are clothes. They don’t mean anything.’

He barked out a bitter laugh. ‘That’s not what you once thought. All you wanted was clothes, jewels and my cock.’ She flinched at the truth of his words then forced a shrug.

‘It was a long time ago. A lot has happened since then.’

He kept eating and brooding. She could see he wasn’t satisfied with her explanation. She wasn’t herself. Would she tell him about the real reason? How she’d worked hard to build up Horvald and transform its people from slave keepers and parasites to cultivators with compassion and connection to the earth? Would he believe her? Would he believe that for ten years she’d pushed herself and her people to atone for the past?