Chapter 20: Discipline

Carak stared at her as a smile rose on his features. "I suppose that could work. He'll never believe it, though. He'll think it's a trick. It might be better if they do."

"He doesn't have to, nobody has to. If they choose to be that dense, that's on them. But I want them to at least hear that I love you," she said. "The Queen of the Bonat loves a Child of the Immortal with all of her heart and soul."

"But Rivuk..."

"Screw him," she said. "He signed us up for this so he can deal with it."

Carak stroked the back of her head. "You don't mean that."

"No, I don't. He's not going to like it, but we'll tell him. There's still time for me to get through to him," she said. "If he's got to watch, at least it'd be easier to know it's not against our will." She gave him a kiss and sunk into the hollow of his arms. "Maybe we should go again, just for a little more practice."

"We'll be together within the hour." He almost laughed, though the horror of the circumstances prevented it.

"I know, but just hold me one more minute, anyway?"

"As you wish."

She gazed at him through half-closed eyelids, memorizing his every feature. He brushed her face with his finger. She was crying again, wasn't she?

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. "It's time."

"I know," she said. She moaned slightly as he slid off of her. She felt somehow emptier and immediately longed to have him back in her arms.

"They'll want me to be harder on you," he said as he stood and began dressing.

Lindsay pulled her tunic on and tied the rope about her waist. "Don't worry, I've had worse. When Sirix first used the rod on me I swear he went so hard he almost punctured me. I was sore for over a week. Don't worry. Just remember," she placed her brow against his, "I love you and I want to be with you. We're going to get them all to watch us make love. Then you can bring me back and maybe," she ran her fingers up his arm, "You can stay."

* * *

Thiry minutes later, she stood shoulder to shoulder with Carak in the dark tunnel entryway that led to the public tribunal square, an arena she'd never been in. She could hear the sounds of the crowd outside. She fought to hide the afterglow from her face.

She was nervous. Not about Carak, she couldn't wait to be united with him again; she could tell from the way his clawed fingers brushed her arm he felt the same way. But the crowd... She'd had sex in public places many times, but that was different - she hadn't been trying to be seen, any witnesses had been coincidental. But now... there had to be at least a thousand people out there. Talk about performance anxiety. She wondered if Carak felt it, too. Probably not, he'd never had sex in private except a few minutes ago -- that was probably more weird to him.

She glanced at him. He seemed so calm, so stalwart, so much the opposite of her. Her heart was pounding as her breath came quickly. Her mind was nervous, but her body was eager. She could feel the stretching inside of her, the wetness between her labia. She was ready.

"Move out!" the guard shouted.

Lindsay leaned over to Carak and whispered, "When the time comes, I want you to put everything into it, all your anger and frustration and humiliation. Don't leave anything behind. I want to feel it all."

"But you'll break!" he said, concern shaking his voice.

"Then break me."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Go!" the guard shouted, prodding them with a spear.

"Listen," Lindsay said in a rushed hiss. "If it hurts too much, I'll say so."

Carak nodded. Lindsay took a deep breath and walked out with Carak following behind her.

The roar of the crowd caused Lindsay to flinch. Above her, all around her, was a sea of Nobillo, all screaming. She heard her name, not derisively - were there people cheering for her? Yes! She could see them. There were only a few, but there they were.

Then Carak appeared and the crowd went wild. She hadn't fully realized it until this moment, but he was something of a hero to them, wasn't he? To her he'd always been Carak, but to them he was Major General Carak, former head of the flying forces.

They didn't know what was coming.

Lindsay focused her attention on the massive sand-colored marbled columns, between which the royal family sat. Her eyes fell to Rivuk. He caught her gaze and turned away.

Rivuk! Rivuk! she cried out to him in her mind. But it was like shouting at a steel door. He'd shut her out. She couldn't tell him. Not that it was the best time for him to find out she was in love with his hest or that this wouldn't be their first time together, but it was better than the alternative.

Her gaze shifted, past the stoic visage of the king and the set jaw of the queen who appeared as though she was going to be sick, to the look of incandescent delight on Boz. He seemed positively giddy. Well, he was going to get his show, and he was still going to lose. Behind them sat a long row of Korsuch. She knew Lucian and Diana, but the others were strange to her.

Elihim stepped forward, clearing his throat. She heard the cough even over the din of the crowd - he must be using some kind of amplifier. The crowd fell silent. "Princess Lindsay Ann Weaver of Earth, you have been found guilty of the crime of sedition against the Nobillo Kingdom. The counsel has mercifully agreed to waive your sentence and allow you to live out the rest of your life in the palace under guard, if you give us the location of the Bonat camps."

She knew they wouldn't get the meaning of it, they wouldn't know for sure, but they'd figure it out; she raised her hand, middle finger pointing to the sky, a defiant glare in her eyes. It felt good to finally flip them off.

Elihim's brow raised. "Am I to take it that is a no? Very well. The council has determined that you will be subjected to public torture. But the Nobillo are nothing if not merciful. Even now, at any point, if you give the locations, we will stop the punishment."

"Go to hell!" Lindsay shouted. "I'll never tell you their locations!"

"Then you have brought this on yourself," Elihim said turning and sitting in his seat, a strange expression on his face, like a hidden shade of discomfort under that arrogant veneer.

Boz stood. "Lindsay Weaver, I ask you one last time to reveal the whereabouts of the Bonat camps or we will be forced to use extreme measures to force them out of you," he said, imperiously.

"So you can murder them? I'll never tell," she said.

"So be it. Carak, you are ordered to rape her until she talks on my mark."

The crowd gasped. There was nothing but silence.

"This is your last chance, Lindsay Weaver," Boz taunted.

There was no sound but for one, a low sound from the center of the arena. Lindsay's laughter grew from a low chuckle to a full, mocking laugh. She glared up at Boz. "You moron. He can't rape me because I want it. From him. Right now. In front of all these people. I'm in love with Carak and I want to have sex with him. How the hell did you miss that when I've been so goddamned obvious since I got here?"

The sound of the collective gasp from the audience was almost deafening.

She knew it was a risky play to tell the truth, but if there was one thing she knew about Boz, it was that his ego wouldn't stand for his plot being bested so easily by his own stupidity. He would have lost control. He could order another into Carak's position, but then he'd lose the ability to cut his younger brother the deepest by showing his power over the two people Rivuk loved the most. It had to be Carak. He had to take everything Rivuk had from him in the most cruelly public way possible. Because it wasn't really about the camps, it never had been. It was about punishing Rivuk for daring, her for defying him, and Carak for rising above his station.

Lindsay continued, weighing her words carefully. It had to be clear, this was their choice. "If he wants to nail me in front of all these people, that's fine with me, I consent."

Boz stared, rage working his handsome features. Then he stood. "You are a clever one. It's a good trick to claim it wouldn't be torture. I wondered what ploy you would try to pull to get yourself out of this. I admit, I didn't think you would name my brother as a Used Man to his servant. That, I find truly delicious." He leaned forward over the edge of the balustrade. "If only I believed you. Guard, bring the princess a knife."

A huge guard brought a knife out on a silver platter and presented it to Lindsay. It had a small blade, too small to easily do any real damage to the Child guards and their muscular bodies. A few quick cuts to the right place might render one or two unable to use an arm or leg, but she'd be long dead before that made a difference.

"Take it," Boz said, silkily.

Lindsay took it. "What do you want me to do with this?" she said, waving it dangerously.

"Guards, chain Carak, please."

The guards took heavy iron bands from the ground and clapped them around Carak's wrists. Carak submitted meekly to it, his head bowed.

"Stop it!" Lindsay cried. "What are you doing?"

"I'm chaining the beast. At least, until we've ascertained the truth. I would think you'd take comfort in this moment, given what I've ordered him to do."

"What do you mean, 'ascertained the truth'?"

"Simple," Boz said. "Stab him or I cut off his arm."

Lindsay looked at the knife in her hands, then to her lover. It was a test, but she didn't understand it. All she knew was Boz wasn't joking, he would cut off Carak's arm if she didn't. She knew where to stab, or more she knew where not to stab in combat because it was ineffective. She took her mind there. Back to the forest. Back to the war. Back to where his muscular, grey chest wasn't something to run her hands over, but a reminder of threat.

Carak's lips curled back enough to just show his teeth, sharp and deadly. Teeth that could take her throat in a single bite. He let out a low growl. He was making it easy for her.

She plunged the knife into his chest.

She felt his hot breath on her, she looked up into his face. He was panting, clearly in pain.

"I ate them," he hissed softly through clenched teeth. "By the dozens. And they were delicious."

A tiny, chubby blue arm lying in a crib.

The only part the monsters hadn't devoured.

Something filled her. Rage, fear, she wasn't sure. Her mind was somewhere strange. All she could do was see the teeth, the Child leaping at her. She twisted the knife. It wasn't enough. She dragged it down his chest. She heard him shriek. It was like she was no longer herself. She stabbed him again and again. "I hope those scars always remind you of what you've done to the Bonat children!" she shrieked.

"Pull her off of him," Boz ordered.

Strong arms pulled her back as she fought to get one more slash in. "Monster!" she shouted.

And suddenly, he was Carak again. His head bowed. He pressed his right fist to his left pectoral muscle despite his own blood dripping onto his hand. "As you wish, my princess."

Her head was swimming. She knew she'd never left the arena but it was like some part of her had, had gone back there. But she hadn't and she hadn't been stabbing a Nobillo soldier, she'd been stabbing her lover. She dropped the knife in horror. What had she done? "I'm sorry," she cried.

"No need to apologize to him, Princess. Heal him," Boz ordered. "I don't want her bloody for our show."

Carak waved the healers away. Still, they pressed on him. He jerked away from them as they pushed their epidermal healers over his wounds. It was her order. He was trying to keep his scars.

She didn't actually want him to. She wanted them gone. She wanted to be able to forget how she'd lost control and called him a monster. To forget the things he'd done.

He'd deliberately reminded her. And that meant he knew. He knew that the hatred and the rage towards him and his people still lived inside of her no matter how much she tried to pretend it didn't. And he loved her anyway.

Carak threw off his doctors. Thrusting his head forward, he opened his mouth to its fullest and let out that almost mechanical sounding high-pitched screech.

She instinctively reached for her harpoon.

She heard the slow clapping of a single pair of hands.

"Very good," Boz said. "If you'd had your harpoon, I have no doubt you would have plunged it through his heart. It was a good trick. But you don't love him. If you did, you wouldn't have been able to stab him. Particularly not so... energetically. You didn't even hesitate, did you? It wasn't even as though I'd put his life in your hands if you didn't. We can reattach an arm, afterall." Boz shook his head. "I am glad my own wives do not share your definition of love."

A faint titter of nervous laughter met his joke and died quickly. So that had been his trick. Prove it wasn't love by her willingness to hurt him.

"Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

She planted her feet firmly and met Carak's eyes. "I consent."

"Yes, so you've said. And yet, I don't believe you. Perhaps it's the blood running down your supposed paramour's chest."

Another faint titter. The crowd was nervous. They weren't behind him.

"This is your final chance. Tell me where the camps are. Or your monster will ravage you until you do."

Lindsay glared at Boz and raised both her fists in a single-fingered salute. He probably didn't understand it, but it felt good anyway.

Boz made a small motion with his finger and Carak's chains clattered to the ground. "Take her."

Carak started after her.

Something in his hulking mass coming after her triggered that thing, ancient and instinctual inside her. She ran.

She could hear him after her as fear and adrenaline coursed through her body. She'd never run so fast. But she knew he was faster.

He was faster.

He should've caught her by now, but he hadn't. He was giving her time. Time to get her head back together. She wanted this. Remembering Boz up there and the fact he'd have to watch - she wanted it even more. She wanted them all to watch as her beloved made her cum over and over again in front of them. More than anything, she wanted him inside of her. That dream that had seen her through months of torture. That dream that had only first been realized this afternoon was hers and Boz could go to hell. She was having it.

She wheeled around and faced Carak charging at her. Her eyes flashing, a snarl on her lips, as she spread her body out to him. "Ravage me," she said.

Her feet left the ground as he plowed into her. Then she was on her back on the dusty ground of the arena. She could feel him over her. In one swift motion, he'd torn through her clothes with his claws. His eyes caught hers. She knew the question in them. Despite how many times she'd said it, he was still asking.

"Yes," she said.

She screamed as he pushed his huge cock inside of her. She was too tense. She felt the tearing inside of her, a thinner lubricant. It hurt so much, but the pleasure of having him inside of her combined with the pain drove her wild. She didn't even sound human with her guttural screams. He covered her mouth with his large hand.

So she couldn't scream. So they wouldn't know she was enjoying it. Because he wanted to leave questions in their minds where they never should have been. She pulled it off.

"No, let them hear what you do to me." Her voice was rough and husky with desire. "Let them lie to themselves that I'm not loving every minute of it when I scream."

Rivuk should know. If anyone could tell those were screams of ecstasy, it would be him. In her pleasure-addled brain she knew that. It wasn't how she wanted him to find out, but it was better he know it was as she said, as she'd told the whole crowd, it was love. She searched for him with her mind. But he was closed off from her. She sought his face with bleary eyes. He was there, standing next to the column in the back of the royal box.

Carak was pumping his cock into her faster. It was coming. She could feel her body rising, tightening like a spring, desperate for release. Oh god. Oh god oh GOD OH GOD!

She screamed. A long, wordless shriek escaped her lips as the orgasm ripped through her.

"RIVUK!" she screamed.

Wrong name.

"Carak. Carak Carak Carak," she said apologetically, stroking his chest.

"Do you honestly think you can fight him off?" Boz said from somewhere.

Did they really see it that way? Morons. She caught Rivuk's eye. He looked away and disappeared behind the pillar.

She looked back up at Carak. He'd slowed, obviously concerned. She could see a Child guard out of the corner of her eye. He must've sprung in to help.

"Are you ok?" she asked Carak. "We can stop if you want to. I can pretend to faint."

"I want to have you until there's nothing left," Carak growled. His meekness was gone. There was no question in his face, in the iron grip of his hand, in the thrust of his hips as to what he wanted.

"I love you," she said. Let the guard hear. She wanted Carak, too. Let the guard spread the rumor that it was real. That, despite everything, the princess loved a Child of the Immortal.

"I love you, too," Carak whispered in her ear.

"Harder." she said. "Don't leave anything behind."

And for the next hour, in front of a silent, horrified crowd, he didn't.