Avarice Desperation Valley Ch. 30

"Yes," was all he managed to utter in affirmation, eyeing the majestic weapon with open avarice.

"The great sword Blacksteel, your birthright if you are strong enough?" She coaxed in a velvet voice. The warrior couldn't help feeling like a pawn in some strange game, and he wasn't at all entirely comfortable, but he was not leaving here without that blade.

Aran looked back toward the pond, the magnificent broadsword now poised just beneath the surface as if held by invisible strings. "Take it." Selene teased and dared in her dulcet tones. The warrior paused and looked back to the pond suddenly aware the dragon ring on his wedding finger was beginning to feel unusually warm. Ignoring the sensation Aran reached for the mighty blade, the steel heavy and cold to the touch. As he grasped it Selene's voice rose in exultant ecstasy. "Your father's will is yours!"

The massive blade came clear of the water, a shining prophecy of death. Aran holding it aloft exultant and not afraid, the entire length of the gelid steel seemed imbued with terrible power. The weapon felt as though it had sprung to life in his hands, the chill of the steel so intense in his grasp it blossomed into radiant fire and he screamed in agony as the room spun...

"Are you all right?" It was Sven. "Damn bro you got way too close to the fire." Aran sat bolt upright, all eyes were on him, he felt like a fool.

It was nothing but a nightmare and he had inadvertently placed his hand into the coals of the dying fire. Bennett chuckled seeing this, and many of the men laughed at his misfortune. Aran would have shared their humor at his expense, if he had not caught the eyes of Selene on him from the back of the crowd.

*****

Carlos shivered uncontrollably, he was hungry, thirsty, and most uncomfortable. He was fighting his own mind, the worst battle imaginable. Wondering what point, if any, his life had? It would be so much easier to just give in, let Bennett take what he wanted. However he just couldn't arrive at that either. He still felt the need to retaliate and refuse even if it was plainly not in his best interests. He had no allies here and felt as insignificant as a lone ant. Was this all there is, and all he would be?

Carlos was torn from his ever recirculating string of thoughts, Bennett hauling open the stubborn door. "Up!" Carlos complied somewhat clumsily, heavy hands on his shirt guiding him outside. The same impersonal hands dropping his jeans that he might relieve himself. Better at dealing with heat than cold Carlos was shivering, he could feel the warmth of the great man standing very close behind him. Feeling demeaned and humiliated, his every base function relied on his jailer.

He hung his head in shame and was returned to the cabin. "Sit." He was pushed down on to the crumpled bed, the hood loosened and removed. Cold meat was pushed into his mouth, he ate without tasting, and drank his fill from the chipped cup pressed to his lips. "Life wont get better unless you let it." Bennett lectured. "If I have to make it worse than this I can." The man chuckled evilly in the half dark. Carlos did not reply he had no more words for this most hated of enemies, silent resistance was his newest resolve.

Voices spoke to him from the recesses of his mind they were a little louder than usual this evening. "Why don't you just give up?" They taunted. "It's really not that hard is it?" He was cold, frustrated, and perpetually uncomfortable, and he ached to give in to them. His athletic shoulders slumped, Bennett picking up on this and moving closer. He brushed his captive's cheek in the darkness in a gesture of unrequited tenderness, and was surprised to feel the wet of tears on the young man's face. The sadistic man smiled to himself, as usual he was winning the game.

*****

A peach colored sunrise greeted all those who were up early this day. Sven was uncharacteristically absent from Raissa's side as she woke to the hungry cries of the baby. The small being relentless in its pursuit of its simple needs, the new mother found it all encompassing and at times overwhelming.

She wondered what had called her man from his bed so early? Putting young Eirik to her breast to quiet him. Being so young she had recovered from the birth fairly swiftly, and much to her horror had already resumed her monthly cycle. At least Sven was incapable of the deed, and he was so possessive it was unlikely she would be burdened with another baby any time soon. That suited her fine. Raissa's mind strayed back to the mistakenly overheard conversation between Warren and Lucy of last evening. What had he been referring to out there? More importantly should she say anything? The girl very undecided.

The baby taken care of Raissa dressed for the day, looking down at her naked body she could see the many changes the baby had wrought on her even without a mirror. Her breasts were much larger than they had been, her waist thicker, and her hips fuller. She was not sure she liked the new her.

That afternoon Raissa sat with Lucy longing to further question her friend about the mysterious conversation of last night, but she found she could not bring herself to broach the subject. Instead she sat quietly sewing many rabbit skins together with cured sinews to make a blanket while little Eirik slept. There was the sound of boots on gravel, Raissa and all the others Nathan included looked up from their tasks. Sven was before her the older warrior still emanating a very powerful presence, none would ever have guessed at his secret. Though Raissa if she looked hard enough could see the subtle changes, the slight loss of his powerful muscle and the thickness he had gained about his belly.

"Raissa come." Sven no longer addressed her as simply slave, since Eirik's birth he had used her name. Raissa did not tarry, collecting Eirik and trailing her man to where she knew not. She stalled when he began to ascend the steep path out of the valley. Sven saw the girl hesitate at the bottom of the path and sternly pushed her along before him. Why is he taking me up here? She worried, but did not question the man, Sven did not take to being questioned very well she had learned it was easier just to comply.

They reached the top, Aran was at the watch post, He got up to greet his brother. Raissa observed the two magnificent brethren side by side. Sven at thirty-six slightly heavier, his long hair less full, naturally dark at the roots fading to blond, with no adornments of any kind. Aran at twenty-three, leaner, his bull neck, ears, and fingers adorned with gold and rare gems, sporting a thick mane of purest saffron from roots to tip like a lion. Raissa felt small and positively dowdy, and wondered what on earth she was doing here?

Father Andrew then appeared clutching his bible in his withered claw, leaning on his hand made staff hewn from a scrub tree, looking winded from his climb. "Lets do this." Sven said moving to take his son from Raissa. She tensed, clutching the child involuntarily to her. One look at Sven's cool gray eyes told her she had best let go, reluctantly she did feeling small and afraid.

Sven handed the child to Aran and Raissa felt weak at the knees, many terrible thoughts rushing through her mind. Sven took her by the arm and marched her a little way from the valley's sharply descending cliff face, out onto the sands dotted with flowers. The day was mild and beautiful with barely a breeze, the sky cloudless.

Father Andrew seeing Raissa's fear smiled warmly as he positioned his tired frame before her and Sven. Aran stood off to the side holding the sleeping infant looking somewhat awkward. Father Andrew cleared his throat, smiling at Raissa again he looked more ancient than ever, she was conscious of the pressure of Sven's hand on her own, gripping her too hard, but she dare not pull away.

"We are all gathered here today to witness the joining of this man and woman before the sight of God..." Raissa almost fainting, my wedding, my wedding, and I wasn't even asked! Angry and confused that this presumptuous man who held her hand so possessively, had never even taken the time to propose. She barely took in any of the simple ceremony her head in a tumultuous tangle of thoughts.

Even more distasteful the ceremony was one sided requiring no response on her behalf, she felt insulted and angry being traded off like a cow sold at market. Sven was very solemn as he recited his vows. "With this ring I wed you, where I go, you will go, where I live you will live; my people shall be your people, and my God your God." Sven pushed the thin gold wedding band on to Raissa's trembling finger, sealing their union.

Aran smirked at her obvious confusion, or was it something else? She could not help but wonder what unfortunate had given up this ring that it might be hers, and it fit her perfectly. An involuntary shudder seized her and she tried to mask it with the most deadpan look she could muster.

It did not help Sven was staring intently at her finishing his vows. "I Sven Sorenson, take thee Raissa, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, to death do us part. This is my solemn vow."

"Then I pronounce you man and wife" Father Andrew added concluding the short ceremony. It was done.

Aran handed Raissa the waking bundle that was his nephew, glad to be rid of it, sauntering back to the watch. Raissa much shaken took the child and followed Sven blindly back to the valley below, she was not sure if she should laugh or cry.

*****

The night unfolded in its usual fashion, there was nothing different or untoward. Lucy beamed with genuine happiness for Raissa when she sighted the golden band, congratulating her heartily as did Warren, and the blundering Marcus.

Raissa just smiled at their warm wishes, but she was not so naive to believe she was still anymore than chattel. Today in many ways had just reinforced that. I'm glorified property with a name, she laughed to herself feeling nothing but cynicism as far as she was concerned, because in truth nothing had fundamentally changed.

The night was cold, but she felt cloyed by the attention and decided to leave early, perhaps she would catch a couple of hours of rest before Eirik woke again. The young woman oblivious to Aran taking interest in her departure.

Raissa sought this dark sanctuary many times to be away from others, especially in moments of confusion such as those of today. She placed Eirik in his cradle brushing his pink cheek with her lips in a mother's tender gesture of love, and climbed into the warmth of the fur covered bed.

Here alone she could think, cry too if need be. The musky scent of Sven pervaded the coverings, it was a comforting smell. Raissa twisted the little gold band on her wedding finger, through her mind ran the phrase. Love is a ring, and a ring hath no end. That's how she had always thought of a wedding band, somehow the purity of it had now been sullied.

The creaking door to the cabin pulled the girl out of her insular world, Sven was here already, and she rolled over to face the wall feeling cheated of her alone time. Raissa listened to the clink of metal as the man removed his weapons belt, and boots. She subtly moved further away as he pulled back the furs letting in the cold night air, it bit her skin raising goose bumps. A solid hand alighted on her shoulder pulling her about.

Raissa sensed something was not right and she made to scream, the other strong hand clamping over her mouth and causing her to painfully bite down on her tongue. This wasn't Sven, this was Aran. The two men easily mistaken for one another in the darkness.

"Quiet." Aran threatened in a low growl. Raissa was totally confused, why would this man want her? She looked up at him in the dark, her husband's brother no more than a black silhouette above her vulnerable form. "This will go a lot easier if you just accept it and shut up. So can I trust you to?" Raissa nodded in affirmation, and she felt the pressure from the enormous hand leave her mouth, she could taste traces of her own blood.

She did not completely trust Aran not to hurt her, he was different to Sven, more savage.

"Now girl let me explain this." He whispered in his hoarse voice, hot breath on her face. Raissa nodded shaking in his grasp. "You are not special to me in any way." His hand enmeshed in her hair pulling her head back hard on to the pillow, arching her back under him. "But my brother is..."

She jumped and gasped as he tore the front of her light shift exposing her creamy breasts and stomach. She felt the man tense at her small utterance, he was expecting her to scream, but the scream never came forth. "Sven is very proud of the gift you gave him, but both you and I know it could not happen again."

Aran's last words hit her like a slap, he was here on behest of his brother. To Raissa this seemed the vilest of plans, and she was mortified it was happening.

"No please." She begged in an almost inaudible whisper. "Not now, not yet. It's too soon."

"Shush." He quieted her. "It's your wedding night." Followed by mocking low laughter as he tugged her rent clothing away. Raissa struggled against him, like a leaf drawn into a mighty waterfall she was ineffective to halt his actions. Sven had sanctioned this, there was little point raising the alarm. Realizing this tears flowed and Raissa felt betrayed, as Aran's hungry mouth sought her neck tasting her tears, lingering at her breasts drinking the milk of the mother, his hardness in her enforcing Sven's wish.

Raissa lay trembling and clutching the furs to her as though they could form some kind of tangible barrier. Aran rose from the bed spent. "Now that wasn't too bad was it?" Raissa made no sound. "Let's hope we get you in pup quickly."

Aran leant menacingly toward her, his hair brushing her shoulders and tickling her face, Raissa shrunk away. "And for my brother's dignity let's keep this to ourselves shall we?" He touched her on the cheek in a parting gesture of mock affection, and she felt dirty. The man donning his clothing along with his clanking weapons belt, leaving her in the dark.

Raissa felt numb, with naught for comfort but the sound of her blood rushing in her head. Holding the furs so tightly the color draining from her hands, knuckles white. Sven found her still that way when he entered the hut some minutes later. He knelt on the bed and pulled her to him stroking her abundant wheaten hair, wiping her tears, and whispering words of love.