Claiming an Ally Ch. 03

His valet entered and cast a wary eye at Emera. He had overheard some of what had transpired before when Jenner began accusing the girl. He also heard her defend herself, if it could be called that. He served his king faithfully, but there was something about the girl that he shared his food with that caused him to believe that all was not as it appeared. He bowed slightly to Edrich. "Robert, saddle my horse and bring a second one as well. Bring plenty of rope. Send for my general to be here immediately. Pack a satchel with a day's worth of food." He turned to look at Emera. "Make it for one. Get the general here first, and then see to the other things." He dismissed him.

Emera stood in heavy silence, trying to control her fearful thoughts. She breathed deep, calming breaths and focused on a candle as it flickered in the dark. Was it not just the night before she had sat across from him at that table and felt that her mission was successful? Clearly she was a fool to think that charming man that made her heart ache and flutter could be trusted. Dear god, she had let him hold her on his lap, kiss her passionately, grope her breasts. Her body began to respond to the memories. She tamped down the passion by rubbing her bloody nose. The pain made her eyes water and made her knees weak. That is what he does to me. He puts me in the most unbelievable pain. I have no feelings for him except revulsion and pain. He is the terror of my life. A brute, a monster!, she hissed trying to convince herself.

Edrich ignored her and her silent torment as he quickly gazed over two maps. Before long, his general appeared. At first, the gray man was taken aback when he saw the disheveled and injured state of Emera. He reached out for her and looked to Edrich with concern and questions.

"Leave her. She is a spy for Arnold, the Adalynd King. I'm taking her back with me to Edlebrock." He gave the general plans for preparing for a potential attack and to ready the men to move on Adalynd. "Let's let the king think he has the upper hand. I'm pretty sure Arnold hasn't changed his ways and any number of troops he brings will be wholly insufficient." At that, Emera sucked in her breath and stiffened. Not only was he insulting her father, though she would have agreed with him, he was planning for attack. And now her only hope for survival was her maid carrying nothing about the danger.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Robert stepped back in the tent, telling Edrich the horses were ready and the food was packed. "Good. Before you gather my things, take her down to the river. Make sure she gets in and washes all that blood off." He regarded her for a moment. "Clothes stay on." Robert turned reluctantly to her. He held out his hand to allow her to lead the way. Edrich quickly cut her off and took the rope that bound her wrists roughly. He handed the end of it to Robert with a pointed look. Clearly, she was not an honored guest, rather a dishonored prisoner and should be treated as such.

As they walked down the river, Emera couldn't help but feel embarrassed. She knew she had done nothing that should be construed as evil or wrong and yet here she was, being dragged around like a prisoner. Forget like a prisoner, I am a prisoner! She momentarily became dejected and her mind numbly began processing her position and her next move.

"Here we are. The king said to get in, so..." Robert refused to look at her. She assumed he was slightly disgusted. Resigned, she walked to the water's edge. She knew it would be freezing and was thankful that Edrich had extended her the courtesy of allowing her clothes to stay on. She wouldn't have wanted to expose herself to Robert and the dress buffered her from the frigid water, momentarily at least. Eventually the water encapsulated her and her heart threatened to stop beating it was so cold.

The pain from the cold competed against that of injuries. She remained under the water, willing herself to disappear from there. The water was dark and still and she wanted to be still with it. The discomfort of the frigid waters became consoling, as if manifesting her pain of her betrayal, telling her she had been wronged. Just as peace descended upon her she was forcefully grabbed and hauled out of the water. She was gasping violently as Robert dragged her to shore and let her collapse. She hadn't noticed her lack of oxygen, calming in her dying reverie.

"Miss, are you okay?" He gently shook her until she responded.

She looked up at his face. It was heavy with concern. He doesn't hate me, she realized. Suddenly strength and determination returned to her. He gently stroked her face around her injuries. She was shivering in her gown that felt like ice all around her, weighing her down. Edrich had given no consideration for her modesty. He was torturing her without doing it directly, forcing her to stay frozen.

He took his time as he spoke. "Your face is bruised. It will take some time to heal. Are you okay? You can't give up, Miss. You can't. I'm not quite sure what is happening, what he will do to you, but I know you're not what Jenner accuses you of. You have to be strong."

Clearly, her actions reeked of a coward giving up. "How do you know that I'm not what they say? I am a spy. I am from Adalynd." It was an effort to talk between the violent shakings that consumed her.

He smiled in pity at her. Honest and brave despite all appearances and circumstances. "That may be true, but you willingly gave up your life for him. If you ever meant him harm, surely you would have let the men have him. But you didn't. Plus, I have a very good sense for people, and I watched you when you rode with me in the wagon. Your countenance is open and honest. You were plotting no evil. You aren't evil," he said with conviction. He pulled her to her feet and commented on her cold state. "I'm sorry, but I can do nothing for you. I am sure by now you realize you are meant to stay in those freezing garbs."

As he took her slowly back to the tent, he held his hand out at his side and nudged her. She looked down to see he was trying to slip her some meat. She took it and greedily devoured it. She hadn't eaten since that morning. Robert was loyal and did not want to disobey his king. However, while Edrich had said to pack food for only one, he didn't outright forbid him from giving her anything to eat immediately. "Thank you," came the whisper as they approached his tent.

Edrich emerged. "It's about bloody time. What took so long?" He slowly appraised Emera. He was satisfied to see her shivering almost uncontrollably. "Cold?" he snarked. He enjoyed watching her stand taller and nearly stop her body from shaking.

"No." He gave a cruel, lopsided smile.

"Since you took so long, I took the liberty of packing my own things." He gave another pointed look to Robert. He could tell the man had sympathy for her and was giving him a warning to not cross any lines. Robert bowed in resignation to him. Edrich grabbed Emera by the wrists and threw her upon the second horse. "I assume," he said as he quickly secured the rope to the saddle, "that you are accustomed to riding straddle." He took the lead rope of the horse and gracefully mounted his own stallion.

He took one quick glance back at Robert. "Gather your things and meet us at Edlebrock." With no further ado, Edrich charged off into the night, guiding Emera's horse along at a neck-breaking pace. Though it was spring, it was still very cold at night and Emera had yet to warm up. She grew even more uncomfortable as her wet thighs rubbed against the leather of the saddle. She had to squeeze her thighs tightly to keep them from moving against the animal. When that didn't work, she used her thighs to move her skirt around them until they were padding her.

He was taking her to Edlebrock. She had only heard stories of the infamous castle stronghold of Lidio. It was supposedly carved out of a mountain of stone that sat imposingly in a vast meadow. She tried to ease her fear by telling herself she could gain valuable information about this country. That, of course, only led her to be saddened at the turn of events. She was no longer a spy. Her mission had failed. She had failed.

Damage control, she told herself. She would take this entirely shitty, unfair situation and make the best out of it. She would survive, she would learn, and she would make Edrich pay. With that determination under her belt she smiled maliciously. Revenge, she breathed. She would live on revenge.

Late the next day they arrived at the mammoth castle. The stories had not been exaggerated. She was thankful to have the traveling behind her. His treatment of her had grown intolerably crueler as they went on. First, at mid morning, stopping to relieve himself, he ate the food Robert had packed, knowing well she was nearly starving. Hell, he could hear her stomach growl from where he was.

Then later he refused to acknowledge her when she said she needed to relieve herself. Stubborn and brave as she was, she was relentless until he skidded his horse to a stop, unbound her from the horse, and holding the rope, trotted his horse on, causing her to run to keep up. When at last the speed was too fast for her weakened state, not to mention her human legs, she tripped and was dragged along. Though he didn't drag her far, it was enough to make the front of her burn and tatter her clothes beyond repair. He said she had thirty seconds to relieve herself. At first she struggled to even understand him as her body screamed in excruciating pain. She was slightly flabbergasted that he expected her to do so when he was right there, but her bladder demanded to be appeased and so, crouched on the other side of her horse, as much out of his view as possible, she did so.

And here she was, a night and day gone without sleep, little food to speak of, no water, bleeding cuts from being dragged, and near embarrassment while relieving herself. She was to the breaking point. Despite her state, Edrich was still surprised when he reached up for her and threw her onto the ground from the horse. She stumbled to her feet and lifted rage-filled eyes. Before he could react she struck him across the face with bound hands. She was wild, and it took all the discipline he had garnered over his life not to choke the life from her that moment.

He grabbed her by the arms and dragged her along as he entered his gray-stoned keep. Everyone along their path stopped to bow their heads only to stop paralyzed, gaping at the beautiful, albeit dirty prisoner he yanked with him. The rage emanating off him warned everyone to stay back, else he would take it out on their hides at the whipping posts.

He led her along the many hallways until at last they came to a door. He flung it open and she saw that it was a stairwell up a tower. Despite her weakened mental state, she tried hard to pay attention to her surroundings, especially the path they had just taken and any secondary exits out of there. After dragging her up the stairs, he opened a door at the top. The room was scarcely furnished. Only a large bed, a chair and small table with a fire pit in the center, she noted. There were two opposing windows with no coverings over them. It looked as though it hadn't been occupied for years, as evidenced by the cobwebs and dust.

What Emera had failed to notice were the manacles hanging from the wall. Before she knew his intentions, he cut her wrists free of the rope only to grab one and chain it. She fought as he reached for the other. She screamed and railed against him. However, considering he was 6'4" and full of muscle, her struggles were no more than a nuisance, dissuading him from nothing. He strode to the door and left without saying a word.

Emera was left to gape after him. She screamed out, calling him every vile name she had ever heard. But he didn't return. Eventually, she gave up her tirade breathing heavily. She took inventory. Her wrists were chained with enough slack they were able to hang at her sides. Her clothing was still damp, but only slightly. Her hair had come unraveled from its braid and fell in big waves down her back. Her face was still extremely sore and her head thrummed in pain with every heart beat. Her legs were shaky and sore from the ride. No one in Adalynd knew where she was. She had no food or water. She was tired. Given everything, the tears that began to stream down her face were well earned. She sank to the floor and emptied her soul.

After descending the stairs, Edrich stalked to his room and called for a dinner and a bath. As he sat soaking in the hot water, steam rising around his body up into the cool room, he contemplated his next move. At the bottom of his slowly evaporating rage, he found a curious emotion. Disappointment. He sighed and sunk lower into the water, eyes closed, thoughts turning off.

In the darkness of his mind a pair of deep blue eyes flashed. Insolent, strong, challenging. Damn. He still wanted her. There was no way around it. Despite who she was and what she had done, he still wanted her. He sighed again. He was restless in the tub, shifting back and forth. He had to settle his mind. Fine. He could just get out of his bath and go up to her and fuck her until he couldn't stand her, whether or not she wanted him. Overpowering her wouldn't even be an issue. Making her cry, a tear for each lie seemed reasonable. He was enjoying the thought of her reparation, evidenced by his hardening length.

That was until he imagined the look of repulsion on her face, the feeling of her struggles, all screaming she didn't want him. Her desire, he realized, was the last thing she held. She had nothing at the moment but her thoughts, her likes and dislikes. He was decided. He would take the last vestige of free will from her by forcing her to want him, her warden, her conqueror. He would subdue her and dominate her body and soul. He would trap her to him, all the while taking pleasure for himself. And in the end, when she had satisfied the last of his desire for her, he would deny her and send her to his men. Resolved, he stood out of the bath.

Emera didn't know if it was her shivering in the cold dark or the sound of heavy, rusted hinges swinging open that awoke her. She lifted her head from her fallen place. Candlelight shone as a massive figure approached. She slowly slid up the wall, tucking herself in as tightly as she could. She had never played the coward's part before, but at this moment, she knew she could do nothing to stop the approaching figure she knew so well.

For the time, Edrich seemed content at ignoring her. Instead, he stooped in front of the fire pit and began to set the room aglow with the small fire's light. The silence grew as he drew nearer to her with a large bowl of steaming water and small satchel. He sat them down. Standing before her, his eyes raked over her taking in her countenance. She was wary of him, fear rumbling in every breath she took. Had he not once thought she would never stand in fear of anyone?

From the satchel he pulled out a leather bottle and uncorked it. He handed it to her. She cautiously took it, lifting it to her nose. It was water. She greedily drank it until it was pouring down the sides of her mouth, running down her throat. Eventually he snatched it away setting it on the edge of the fire pit.

"Are you hungry?" The question was an obvious one.

"Hungry? How could I possibly be hungry, my lord?" she sneered. "I haven't eaten in over a day. Surely you don't think I am one of those strange creatures that needs to eat daily, do you?" She stepped away from the wall, hands on her hips.

Ah, there it was, her sparkling wit turned into disdain. He would have been concerned if it hadn't surfaced eventually. "Oh, well, in that case, I shan't have anything sent up when we are finished."

Her breathing increased at that. "Finished? With what?"

He folded his arms and slanted his eyes angrily at her. "Why, meting out your punishment, of course." His voice was cold and slashed her. Her eyes darted about him, looking for some sort of torture device, but only saw the bowl and bag. Maybe he kept whips or clubs inside the sack. He would beat her. Would he stop before or after she died?

Rightfully, she was afraid. But she was also angered. How dare he? After his duplicitous scheme to provoke her father into war by sending Jenner, he had the nerve to affront her with his hollow self-righteous indignation. The pompous, vicious, monstrous man! Her lip sneered at him. "You cowardly dog."

He grew more tense. He quietly bit out, "I would be careful what you say."

"Why? What worse can you do to me? No doubtless this will end in my death, I have nothing to lose."

"I can make it worse."

"There, you see that? The fact that you think anything you could do to me in threat to keep me from speaking the truth is what makes you a coward. You may allow such tactics keep you from doing what is right, but I will not be bullied by you or anyone! Do your worst, I am not afraid."

"Truth? What truth can a liar tell? Your entire being is a forgery, a fiction created to insinuate yourself in situation where you steal what is not yours for evil purposes."

"There you are wrong. Nothing I did was for evil. But why would you think otherwise when your whole self is consumed with artifice and nefarious dealings? Evil only knows evil and can only suspect others of the means with which it operates."

"You use your beautiful mouth to spout confabulated reasoning but to no avail; I see through you. And in the end, you will bleed, you will die, and I will obliterate Adalynd for it." In blind rage she bolted at him to attack, but her chains snapped her back painfully. Pain shot up through her wrists and shoulders. She was breathing heavy again as she stared up at him. He was close enough she could smell his clean skin, see the sparkles of gold in his brown eyes, but not claw them out. With a clenched jaw, she stepped back. Clearly she wanted to fight, he recognized. Her stance said as much, bound though she was.

As much as he enjoyed the ability to rile her, he knew an even pleasanter way to torture her. His eyes dropped to her heaving chest and bodice, with heat and determination.

Her stomach began a slow burn. "What?" she asked, noticing the focus of his gaze

"You are injured and dirty."

"You think? Perhaps had I not been beaten by your man and dragged by your horse, you might find me in another state. But as it is, our histories only conclude you find me thus." She knew not where she stood with him, only that she had never wanted an enemy, only an ally. And alas, she had nothing more than a brute for a warden. At least I learned his true nature before it was too late, she lamented.

"As it is, you wounds need attending to, the dirt to be removed." He reached for the front of her dress then, but she pulled away quickly, the fire still raging in her eyes.

"Why? Why bother treating my wounds when you only intend to inflict more? Don't waste my time or yours and just get on with it."

He ground his teeth at that. "Because I decide what happens. And I say your state is unacceptable." With that, he quickly drew his dagger and sliced the front of the dress, the laces bursting free. She gasped and threw her hands over her chest. "Relax, your dress is too dirty to keep." But still she resisted as he continued to strategically cut and tear her garments until she stood naked before him, the raggedy material a pool at her feet, the glow of the fire warming her skin.

This was the last. This was the end. He could not possibly take more from her than her visage, her skin, her complete nudity. In shame she had never felt before, she turned her head and hid her face on her shoulder, trying to hold back tears. Edric stood back in pained restraint. Never before had he thought a woman as beautiful as she was. He found perfection in every part of her structure, from her shoulders, to her firm breasts, the curve of her ribs, the taunt navel, the flaring hips. Her thighs were glorious and the length of her legs he imagined wrapped powerfully around him. He imagined the silky texture of her nipples and the erotic taste that lay hidden past the triangle of dark curls. She was sensuality personified. He breathed fire as he looked at her.