Possessions Ch. 13

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thank you for your patience! Here is Chapter 13. Chapter 14 is finished and being edited! I am hoping to have it submitted by next week!

He lied.

Her little slave, who she had bent over backward to make feel welcome, to make happy, had looked her in her eye and lie to her.

She couldn't keep her eyes from narrowing. "Nothing that Allek's boy did today bothered you. At all."

"No, Mistress." Straight faced.

Oh, this ungrateful little-

What was worse, was that he dared to lie to her in front of not only Ehrik and Alaliya, but the King as well. Such disrespect, at such turbulent times, could not be tolerated. She'd warned him! She had warned him that with the King in residence that their lives would be more stressful, that leniency would be restricted.

"Don't worry, little slave." Sarantha forced herself to smile, her voice coming out sugary sweet. She ignored the way everyone in the room stiffened. "We will sort this out." Gently, she stroked his cheek before calling to a guard. "Bring me the boy." She turned back to Trivalm. "You see, Braym said that you had some difficulties today, that you were rude to some of his guests. That you called them 'nausiating'. But don't worry, my little slave. I will see the boy properly beaten for telling such atrocious lies of you."

It was difficult to keep the satisfaction from her face when Trivalm's eyes widened, his lips pressing into a tight line.

"Wait, don't!" There was a pause as Trivalm fought to swallow. "What I meant, Mistress, was that by the end I had no difficulties." A pause as his eyes slid to the side and he took a shuddering breath. "The difficulties the boy described occurred earlier in the day."

It was obvious that he was trying to fumble though the predicament he had put himself in. He was an honorable man. He wouldn't allow the boy, so much smaller and weaker than himself, to be beaten over his lies. He didn't need to know that Sarantha would never lay a hand on Braym. Nor that if she did, she wasn't sure if Allek would ever forgive her. Allek loved that boy. Truly loved him.

Still, even through her anger, Sarantha took pity. "Ah. Perhaps there is some difference of translations. In our language, when we say 'at all' we mean from beginning to end. Is that understood, little slave?"

Trivalm, smart enough to take this opportunity, simply nodded.

Sarantha was done with him. For now. For the day. For however long it took for her to forgive him for lying to her.

This wasn't the first time, she realized. He had lied when he said there was nothing he wanted to learn. Had that set the precident in his mind that untruths were acceptable? This whole thing was because he wouldn't answer a simple question. Now, though, it was because such blind hatred was unacceptable. Homosexuality wasn't illegal in this country, not a sin in this religion, as it was in Trivalm's. He needed to be able to accept it. Even if he couldn't accept it, he needed to be able to tolerate it.

Vaguely she wondered if her own brand of information deprivation was a form of untruth, but brushed it aside. No. If she gave him too much information too quickly, it would cause him to rebel.

The servant that had just collected the dishes from the free citizens' midday meal arrived with a plate for Trivalm.

"Kneel." She pointed to the cushion at her feet. "Eat your food. Remain quiet and keep your head down."

She ignored Ehrik's raised eyebrows.

Her Trivalm had lied to her!

"I am tired. I want to finish this so I may rest." She looked the King in his eyes. "I will not accept these conditions."

The King sighed. "Which conditions, darling?" he seemed almost defeated. "There are literally no conditions present except that I require an heir of my blood, and that I would expect you to not take an intact male lover."

"But women and eunuchs are acceptable lovers." Sarcasm dripped from the words.

Jecis took it in stride, "As they cannot impregnate you, yes. Perfectly acceptable."

"You however, can take any status of lover you desire and breed as many bastards as you can manage?"

Jecis seemed almost confused. "Sarantha, my darling-"

"I am not your darling. I am not your anything, as it is." Fury erupted. How dare he! How dare all of them!

Finally, Alaliya, who had been oddly silent all morning and even through midday meal, spoke. "Perhaps a break would be beneficial. The men can go do men things. I can take Sarantha for her rest before the child wakes-"

But that wasn't to be, because just as the words left her mouth, the child began screaming from where it rested in the bassinet nearby. Sarantha's face flashed despair for a mere second before she schooled her features and rose. She prayed to the generous Goddess that nobody saw it.

She was just so tired. The child was awake at all hours, as was expected. But she was expected to entertain the King's ridiculousness, and fight off the incessant attacks of her brother and sister regarding the midwife. And all of this was taking away the time she should have been planning her child's presentation -- an event normally planned by both parents, but was falling solely on her shoulders.

Before anyone could utter a single, preposterous word, she scooped her child into her arms and began to walk away. When the disgusting midwife stepped toward her, as if to offer to use her disgusting breast to feed the child, Sarantha, without pausing, sent her one glare. It was all the woman needed to know her place. The midwife was employed by Ehrik. Ehrik could suckle her teat if he wanted his money's worth.

"Slave! Come!" Only the sound of his feet behind her assured her that Trivalm obeyed. She allowed him a few more steps before she turned on him. "Did you hear me, slave?"

Trivalm blinked, confused. "Yes..."

Her eyes narrowed. "Yes?" She gave a little shrug. "Just yes. Yes...what? Yes, bitch? Yes, whore? Yes, breeder? Yes what, slave?"

Before Trivalm could figure out an answer, Ehrik appeard. "Sarantha," His voice was soft, but insistent. "That is enough."

"No. Obviously it isn't." She turned to her brother, rage in her eyes. "I'm done with this slave. It can go to the dungeons or the mines or fields. I don't care. I will not tolerate a sadistic, ungrateful, dishonest, disrespectful slave." Her fury boiled over. "I don't want it. I don't care what honor such a gift it is or for what. Give it to someone else. I give him anything, anything, he wants and he humiliates and betrays me at every turn. It lied to me again! In front of the King!"

Ehrik stood stoic as Sarantha fumed. He'd never heard her refer to one of her precious slaves as an "it". He let her have her fit. He listened as Sarantha finally let the slave know just how close he was to losing the things slaves in Trivalm's country would never even dream of having. Stability. Medical care. A soft bed. Food. The ability to make the smallest mistake and not pay for it in blood and pain. Maybe the fool didn't understand quite how far he was pushing her. Ehrik waited several minutes until finally Sarantha pursed her lips, took a deep breath and looked away.

"Sarantha, my darling sister." He stepped forward, stroking her hair back before cupping her cheek. "Look at me." Footsteps behind him let him know that his wife approached. "We are your family. Always your family. Lean on us. Let us help you. We love you." His voice became strained. "Let us help."

Sarantha fought to swallow. "How?" It was barely a whisper.

"Anything, little sister." Aalaliya's voice was sincere.

"How?" Sarantha couldn't articulate it more than that. How was she still to be a mother if she let another woman nurse her child, see to it's care? How was she to be a wife to Kellir when she thought to marry another man less than a year after his death? How was she to be a wife to the King when she still loved Kellir? How was she to be a Madam Keeper when she was an entire journey away? How was she to be Queen when she only cared about her own Keep? Just how?

"Sister. Look at me. Trust me. Trust us." Ehrik's eye were earnest, locked on hers.

Oh sweet Goddess, she was so tired. She'd been tired for days. She couldn't remember the last time she wasn't tired. What would it be like to just give up control, to lean on them, just for a bit. When was the last time she let someone else take control without fighting it?

She knew. It was while she was in Kellir's care.

And how often had Kellir told her that he was only a good man because of his brother? Because he had learned from Ehrik how to be a soldier, a keeper. How to be a good man.

Sarantha let her eyes slide closed and leaned into Ehrik's palm where it still cradled her face. "Okay." It was barely a whisper.

"Look at me, precious sister." He waited until she complied, her tear-filled eyes meeting his. "The child isn't sleeping because she is hungry. Let the midwife see to her for the afternoon. Love her enough to set aside your pride and see her fed."

Oh Goddess, it hurt. It twisted her insides. Why did she have such an aversion to allowing the woman near her daughter? It made her physically nauseous to think of it. Midwives were common. Many women, of all statuses, used midwives for a variety of reasons. So why did she feel such an aversion to the very thought of making use of one?

Without breaking eye contact, Sarantha forced herself to nod.

Ehrik held her gaze as Aalaliya took the child from its mother's arms and quickly walked away, as if worried Sarantha would change her mind. When Aalaiya's steps faded and disappeared, Sarantha took a shuddering breath.

"She will be okay." She forced it to be a statement, even as a silent tear slid down her cheek.

"Good girl." Ehrik kissed her forehead. "What herbs can you use to help you rest?"

Sarantha absently listed a few herbs off.

"I will verify with the healer that none will adversely affect the child when you nurse."

When Sarantha only nodded, her eyes beginning to drift off to where Alaliya had exited, Ehrik pulled her head forward to place another kiss on her brow.

Ehrik forced his face to remain neutral, his tone soft, when all he wanted to do was rage. His sister, a woman that he swore on his brother's grave to protect, looked desolate and defeated. Kellir had always told him how strong she had grown since their wedding, going from an easily frightened girl, to a formidable woman able to handle the most stressful situations with ease. Ehrik was starting to wonder if that strength only came from having an endlessly supportive husband, such as Kellir, to lean on. Now that her pillar was gone, it seemed so was her strength. And that simply wasn't acceptable. Ehrik refused to see his sister defeated.

"I will send word to Ebon that he and Ivory are not to disturb your rest, that they are not to return to your room until after evening meal." Seeing her protest in her eyes, even before she spoke, Ehrik attempted to pacify her. "I will instruct that Ebon is to give her a fun afternoon. A reward of some sort." He waited for her small nod. "I will take your war slave until matters are settled and you decide it is appropriate for him to return to your care." Ehrik chose his words carefully, knowing she would assume matters would refer to the King's visit.

Sarantha gave a shuddering breath before nodding. "Will you instruct the herbs be sent to my chanmber, please?"

"Of course, precious sister." Ehrik nodded, even though he doubted they would be necessary. "I will see you to your chamber, then seek out the healer."

Sarantha's eyelids were already drooping. Her body slowly began leaning on his more and more, seemingly without her noticing. Ehrik had no trouble supporting much of Sarantha's weight as he lead her to her chamber. When her steps slowed from their snail-like procession to a near halt, Ehrik gave up on pretenses and simply lifted her into his arms. Good Goddess, she truly weighed nearly nothing. He would need to ensure she ate more. Much more.

Sarantha didn't even flinch when Ehrik barked "Door!" at the war slave as they approached her chamber. As gently as he could, Ehrik settled the already sleeping woman on the bed. She immediately rolled onto her side and burrowed into the soft coverings, a small smile playing on her lips when Ehrik pulled the blanket to cover her shoulders. Certain she was situated, Ehrik turned toward the door, meeting his waiting wife's eyes.

Pursing her lips, Aalaliya met his gaze without flinching, unapologetic. "I had the servant put herbs in her drink."

"Mmhmm." He would deal with this later. He motioned for her to accompany him. "Come, slave."

Trivalm had no idea where they was leading them, but Aalaliya cast her husband a sidelong glance almost immediately when she realized where they were headed. It wasn't until the slave walked through the door of the Interrogation Chamber that the he jerked back. Unfortunately for Trivalm, the soldiers stationed in the room were chosen for their ability to quickly subdue and bind the victims brought here.

Aalaliya watched Ehrik as he watched Trivalm be bound face down on a wrack, the only support across his forehead, shoulders, hips and ankles. The binding device was torture in and of itself, putting so much pressure in so pointed places. Yet, her husband's face was blank, which didn't bode well for the war slave. What had the foolish man done deserve to be brought here? This room, the instruments that is contained, were so much worse than the Dungeons. There were Dungeon Mistresses that couldn't stomach this room. Where as the dungeons were essentially a playground where the Dungeon Mistresses could take there time and divulge a litany of information from captives, or simply punish those found guilty of crimes, this room was for pointed, expedited interrogation. Nobody lasted long in this room regardless of their role in it.

"Husband, my love, is this necessary?" When she didn't receive a response, Aalaliya moved to block Ehrik's gaze, taking his face in her hands. "If you damage him-"

"So now you don't trust me either?" Ehrik's words were flat.

Aalaliya's eyes widened, her jaw dropping at the ridiculousness of the callous accusation. Even as the allegation burned a hole in her heart, Aalaliya refused to be distracted. "Why are we here?"

Ehrik, still glaring daggers at the now stripped, bound and gagged slave as he struggled and cursed, gave his wife the only promise he could. "I will only damage him as much as required to confess. His punishment will depend on his crime."

Aalaliya shuddered as she watched as Ehrik plucked a flogger from the wall. It was a vicious thing, made of hard leather falls decorated with hard wooden and metal beads. And it was one of the kindest instruments in this room.

Without preamble, Ehrik swung the flogger, striking between the bound slave's shoulder blades. Aalaliya could imagine the way the slave's eyes widened by the ragged gasp he made. The second strike had him jerking in his binds. By the third strike, the slave was nearly convulsing. Ehrik paused, running a finger over the circular welts already forming. He carelessly dropped the flogger to the floor.

"Why did she call you sadistic?" Ehrik's tone remained emotionless.

Trivalm muttered through his gag, shaking his head, clearly attempting to plead innocence.

Ehrik, though, was already moving elsewhere, knowing it wouldn't be so easy. He delicately retrieved a jar and brush from a shelf.

"These herbs," He held the jar low so Trivalm could see. "they disgust me. They will become extremely painful wherever they are applied, the pain worsening as time passes. Interestingly enough, as soon as they are removed, within seconds, the pain stops. If they are removed in time, that is. If the skin begins to blister...well, then it will be weeks of agony as the blisters heal." He bore his teeth in something more sneer than smile, swirling the brush in the tincture. "I find that it works best on delicate skin."

Slowly, deliberately, Ehrik coated the soles of Trivalm's feet, before moving to apply a portion to the sensitive skin behind his knees, the insides of his elbows, and right behind his ears. By the time he finished, Trivalm was already squirming. Ehrik meticulously ensured that none of the tincture was on him before turning to Aalaliya, who remained stoic in her position.

"My wife, I need you." Ehrik, without a second though, caught her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers. "I love you."

Aalaliya, regardless of her confusion, hurt and anger, allowed her husband's affection. She would always allow her husband's affection. The very fact that he was willing to use that tincture told Aalaliya without words that her husband felt this confession of the utmost importance. Ehrik continued to kiss her for several moments, not stopping until Trivalms panicked grunts were unignorable.

Ehrik didn't bother turning to him. "Why did she call you sadistic?" When the sounds coming form the slave didn't change, Ehrik lowered his head to continue.

"The gag, my love." Aalaliya whispered the words for Ehrik's ears only.

Rolling his eyes, irritated with himself, he walked to the slave and snatched the gag off. "Why did she call you sadistic?"

"I don't -- I don't know. Please! My feet! It's too much! Please!" Trivalm couldn't help but beg, even as the pain in the back of his knees began to worsen as well.

He had never experienced such pain. Where the tincture had been applied was pure agony. Burning while freezing, prickling as if someone were sticking needles into his skin, skin that felt as if it were being scraped off as it rotted. And every second it got worse. Oh sweet Goddess, if it blistered, would this be the pain he felt until it healed? He wouldn't be able to bare it.

But he couldn't answer Ehrik's question. Because he didn't know. He had never hurt Sarantha. Even how he hated her, he never would hurt Sarantha. Not just because he would likely never have the chance now that she was to be queen, but because he wouldn't be able to abuse someone so small and gentle and weak. She wouldn't have a chance to defend herself if she were attacked.

Ehrik moved to Trivalm's feet, watching carefully, ignoring the war slave's attempts to thrash, ignoring his screams and pleas. Ehrik waited for the skin to go from burning red, to nearly translucent pale, knowing there would be only seconds to spare. "Wipe it off."

The soldiers did so quickly, careful to get all of it off before applying another tincture to ensure no ruminants caused additional damage. They were efficient, completing the tasks in the seconds it would take to begin to blister.

Ehrik stood for a moment, listening to Trivalm's ragged breathing. The slave didn't need to know that these herbs were often how Ehrik and Kellir were punished since childhood. Or that those memories were the only reason that no victim of this chamber had never experienced the agonizing blisters that it caused. When he said these herbs disgusted him, he was being honest.

These were the herbs that his own father had used to blister and scar the bottoms of his feet for not finishing a training exercise first. These were the herbs that his father had used to blister "FAILURE" across his back when the previous King didn't choose him for a position. These were the herbs that his father had used on his genitals, thankfully removing them before the blistering, when he had been caught with a woman considered beneath him.

"Why did she call you sadistic?" When he again received no answer, Ehrik's eyes flicked to Aalaliya before moving one of the walls of tools.

This time when he selected a flogger, his wife failed to remain silent, sucking a breath in through her teeth. Ehrik forced himself to ignore her. He had to do this. He had to have an answer. He promised Kellir he would protect Sarantha, and he needed to make sure this slave hadn't harmed her, didn't have plans to harm her. Ehrik was not a sadist. He didn't enjoy this. That's why his wife was there, to give him strength to do what needed to be done to keep his family safe.