Possessions Ch. 14

Sarantha woke feeling refreshed. Even so, she stayed in her bed, warm and comfortable, for some time after she opened her eyes. She didn't know how long, and she felt slightly guilty for lazying about when there was so much that needed doing. But it was just so nice to lay peacefully, to enjoy the calm and quiet. Since her war slave wasn't in the room with her, neither were the guards. She rolled onto her back and looked around the small room she had been given.

It did not fit her status as a visiting Madam Keeper, having been chosen for its proximity to Ehrik and Alaliya, not its size or accommodations. Even so, Ehrik had generously supplied anything he thought she could want or need in her room, even made sure there were comforts for her slaves. Comforts being relative.

Ivory always slept in a cage, otherwise she had a habit to wonder. One time she had snuck into Sarantha and Kellir's bed with a vase of flowers, a gift for her Mistress. At some point though she must have fallen asleep and suffered a night terror. Sarantha had woken to the little slave screeching and smashing the vase against Kellir's face, shattering the glass and cutting him rather severely. The poor girl had sobbed in her Mistress's arms, terrified. It was then that Kellir had suggested a cage for the girl. It was only a few weeks later that they had found Ebon and he began his care of her.

She still didn't understand why Ehrik had expected her to allow Ebon to be chained. Ebon protected bother her and Ivory. She trusted Ebon more than most of the guards. It was bad enough that he had to be in the cage at night now that Trivalm was sleeping on his bed.

Rolling onto her side and staring at the small personal bathing tub, Sarantha thought about what she had agreed to. She'd told Ehrik that she would allow him to deal with Trivalm. No, there hadn't been an exact time frame agreed upon, but the implication had been until after the child's celebration and the wedding. It bothered her that she knew impeccably that Ehrik would treat her slave like he did the other two. They were in no way mistreated, but it was obvious that Ehrik was not going out of his way to acclimate them. If anything, it seemed as if he viewed them as a burden. They had had lessons, yes, but that had been at Alaliya's insistence. Alaliya had said the slaves had been given lessons in culture, history and language. But you couldn't learn culture from a book, history was boring, and their language skills were fine. It seemed that Ehrik was fine banishing them to the training rooms.

But maybe Ehrik knew what he was doing. He was a soldier, just as they were soldiers.

Pressing her lips together, Sarantha sat up in her bed. She couldn't worry about this. There was too much to do to worry about slaves that were not hers. No. The other two were not her concern. Except the promises she had already made, she was in no way responsible for them.

Pushing to her feet, she stuck her head out the door and requested servants to help ready her for... evening meal? Breakfast? She had no idea what time it was. But she was hungry.

And she needed to find her daughter.

Jecis jumped to his feet, ignoring the rest of his unfinished meal. "Sarantha, dearest, I thought you wouldn't be joining us. Please, come. Sit." He pulled out a chair for her, sliding his own plate over so she could sit between himself and Ehrik. "Had we known, we would have postponed the meal."

"Thank you, my King. That would have been unnecessary. The people shouldn't be made to wait for their dinner because I chose to nap."

Jecis smirked, bringing her knuckles to his lips. "Oh, dearest. I am beginning to think this is some type of emotionally sadistic foreplay." He spoke the words quietly enough that only she heard him. "You have no idea how desire to hear my name on your lips willingly."

He was stopped from continuing when Ehrik turned to her. He looked tense, on edge. Something was wrong, but Sarantha knew that he wouldn't tell her. By Drimelk and Raikol's presence, coupled with Trivalm's absence, Sarantha could only surmise that Ehrik's stress was due to her war slave.

"Brother, thank you so much for your suggestion." Sarantha turned away from the King, ignoring his amused smirk at her audacity. "I feel rested, so much better. Thank you so much for your assistance with the child and slave."

Ehrik, turning fully in his seat, thought nothing of sliding his arms around his sister and holding her to his chest, allowing her to lean against him. "I've told you before, precious sister. You are not a burden. You will never be a burden. I would do anything to keep you safe."

Ehrik would have been content to hold her as long as she wanted to remain in his arms, but a rumbling from her stomach announced her body's requirement for nourishment. Ehrik chuckled as he released her, looking down at her embarrassed face.

Alaliya, always near, leaned across her husband to touch Sarantha's hand. "Come eat, sister."

The remainder of the meal was uneventful. Moments after arriving, the child was brought to Sarantha. Allek and Kriel didn't join them. Actually, she had seen remarkably little of Allek since he was assigned as her personal guard. Ehrik and Alaliya were quiet. When both had finished their meals, Ehrik pulled Alaliya into his lap and simply held her, stroking her hair as she rested her head on his shoulder. Jecis chatted about mundane things, but his conversation lacked its normal flirtation.

The evening seemed...odd. Everyone seemed preoccupied. The four of them remained in the Great Hall until the room emptied. Even the war generals were led away by Triya and guards.

"Ehrik?" Sarantha was cautious. "I know I agreed to allow you to see to Trivalm, but where is he? He didn't eat evening meal."

Without looking at her, Ehrik answered, his voice holding just a hint of disapproval. "He has been fed, sister. I promised to see to his care and I will."

Ehrik took a deep breath and briefly locked eyes with Jecis before sliding Alaliya back to her own chair. This was not going to be an enjoyable conversation. The slave hadn't broken. For hours in that room, Trivalm had plead innocence and ignorance. The slave swore that he had never harmed Sarantha. And Sarantha wasn't going to give him the information he needed easily. Jecis was going to be irate, but this couldn't be kept from him. If he found out later that Sarantha had been harmed and Ehrik had kept that information from him, all would be punished. Including Sarantha. Jecis would never lash her, as his betrothed or as his wife, but he would take things from her that she enjoyed and for her that would be even worse.

"Sarantha, darling, how are things going with Tivalm?" Alaliya tried to ease into the conversation she knew was coming.

Ehrik didn't allow it. "Why did you call him sadistic?"

"What?" Jecis was already angry. "He hurt you?"

Sarantha sat up a little straighter. "No. I misspoke."

"Sister, do not lie to me." Ehrik nearly sneered the words, angry at her deceit. "If he hurt you, we need to know. If you released him from his chains, we forgive you. If he repaid such kindness with treachery that is his failure, his sin, not yours."

"I didn't. Only Ebon has let him out of his chains to bathe and in my room when there were guards. There was one night that he wasn't chained, but he stayed on his bed like a good little slave and when I woke to feed the babe, I locked him back in. I follow your instructions. I keep him chained, even when I don't want to."

Ehrik was not convinced. "Sarantha, if he harmed you when you tried to chain him--"

"He didn't!" Sarantha snapped the words.

"And where was Captain Allek?" Jecis's eyes narrowed. "I agreed to allow him to guard you and he failed."

"No, he didn't!" Sarantha grit her teeth.

Ehrik's displeasure was written clearly across his face. "If Allek was remiss in his duties, he needs to be corrected."

Jecis turned to Ehrik, his face a thundercloud. "This is ridiculous. I trusted your judgement in this. You said this Captain was capable of protecting her! He is clearly incompetent."

"No, he isn't!" Sarantha was becoming enraged. How dare the King make such accusations! "Allek is to guard me during the day! This occurred at night! And it was before—"

"Then where were your night guards?" Jecis's voice rose, not quite a yell, but noticeably louder.

"In the hallway because they needn't watch me sleep!"

"They aren't watching you sleep! They are watching him! And obviously it is necessary or you wouldn't have been harmed! What did the slave do?" Jecis hissed the words, seething with rage.

He would see this rectified. There would be punishments all around. Allek for not being properly relieved, the night guard for not being in the room, the slave for whatever he had done, Ehrik for allowing all of this ridiculousness. And even Sarantha for her secrets, for not telling them what had happened immediately upon it happening.

"He just smiled!" Sarantha's yelled right back at the King, slamming her hands down onto the table.

Silence hung heavy in the air for several minutes, the only sounds those of angry breathing.

Alaliya pushed past her husband, taking Sarantha's hands in her own. Ehrik obediently moved out of his chair, allowing his wife to take it. Alaliya urged Sarantha to turn toward her, effectively removing the King from Sarantha's vision.

Sarantha's lips trembled as she tried to blink away her tears. "Don't yell at me." Goddess, she couldn't handle the yelling.

"Darling sister, we need to know. What do you mean 'he just smiled'?" Alaliya's voice was calm, patient.

Sarantha tried to take a steadying breath. "When...when the King came before. When we were in my room. When the King was..." She swallowed hard, her face flaming red, "grooming me." She nearly whispered the words. "I looked over just as Trivalm was turning away. He had been watching, all of it, I'm sure. And he was smiling, grinning. He was so happy. Like it was the best show he'd ever seen."

Tears finally escaped her eyes. She had tried to bury that night in her memories, forget it had happened. She'd known then, just as she knew now, that she had no right to feel betrayed. He was a war slave. He had sworn no loyalty to her, made now vow to her service. But, sweet Goddess, she did. That betrayal was like a knife to her heart. She would do anything to see her slaves happy. And what had made Trivalm happy had been her absolute terror. And realizing just how much Trivalm hated her, how he looked forward to her pain and agony, that had terrified her all the more.

"But then, once the King had gone, he had seemed so worried, asking me if I had been harmed. And the next morning he seemed repentant. But I suppose that was just because the King had called for you and you had stayed." She gave a small, bitter laugh. "He really is a good actor, I suppose, seemingly so concerned for the Mistress he so despises."

Ehrik was literally shaking with rage. "Alaliya, my love, please escort our sister back to her room. She needs to nurse the child and rest."

Before anyone could answer, Ehrik was already stalking from the room. Guards, soldiers and servants jumped from his path. He ignored the fear in their eyes.

The worthless slave only stirred when the door crashed open. Ehrik had been kind enough to allow it to be moved to one of the small narrow cots that healers often used, though its wrists and ankles were bound tightly to the legs. Now he regretted that small act of kindness. He should have left the slave on the rack, regardless of the damage it could have caused.

Ehrik walked slowly around the cot, looking over the slave, gauging how much more it could take. He had been careful to ensure no broken bones, nothing that would take too long to heal. Bruises, cuts and burns decorated the slave's arms and legs. The wounds on its back had been cauterized by the flaming oil. Ehrik sneered as he realized salve had been spread over the blisters. He hadn't ordered such a thing done, which meant Alaliya had. He wasn't a healer or an herbalist, which meant he didn't know if the salve was easing the slave's pain, or simply warding off infection. He'd find out later. Now though...

"You thought it was funny?" He snarled down at the slave.

"I didn't... I didn't... I ... I ... didn't... hurt...."

Ehrik grabbed a fistful of the slave's hair and yanked its head up. A ragged sound escaped the slave's throat as his back was forced to bend back, too weak to fight or defend itself. "You laid there and watched while she laid there terrified of being raped. You thought a woman about to be raped was funny. You smiled and you grinned."

The slave couldn't answer, could only manage ragged, pain filled sounds. Finally, Ehrik dropped him, allowing him to sprawl on the cot.

"Don't worry. This pain is over. I need your body strong for what is coming next." Ehrik squatted down, bringing his lips close to the slave's ear, and whispered his plans for it. He didn't stop when he heard the door open behind him, uncaring of who it was. He continued whispering as his words finally sunk unto the slave's consciousness and it began to tug uselessly as its bindings. Finally, when Ehrik was satisfied that the slave knew what horrible future awaited it, he stood and turned toward the door. He slid his arms around his wife and pressed his lips to hers, even as he walked her backwards out of the room.

Alaliya's hands fumbled at his waist as his hands bunched the skirt of her dress. He obeyed the pressure of her hands and sank down to the floor, laying back for his wife to straddle him. And right there in the hallway, Ehrik allowed his wife's lovemaking to chase away his demons.

"Was I not clear last time?" Raikol couldn't help but smirk at the enticing woman as she removed his chains.

Triya sauntered to her bed and flopped lazily onto it. She ignored his question. "My room is much more comfortable. And it does not have the audience that yours does."

"For there to be an audience, there must be a show." Games, games, games. But Raikol didn't mind them. He could play just as well. And he was beginning to enjoy them.

How many times in the past days had the enticing woman found a reason to saunter past him? To brush by him as she walked by? And why had she needed to walk past him so many times in the training rooms? Why had she been the one to attach or remove his shackles, standing close enough for her intoxicating scent to surround him?

"Do you prefer to perform then? Or is it a performance that enhances your pleasure?" While the words were teasing, there was speculation in Triya's gaze, as if she were already planning her next move.

"Because you would be willing to fulfill either role if it convinced me to agree?" Raikol stepped next to the bed, looking down at her.

Goddess, she really was a beautiful woman. Raikol had found himself thinking of her quite a few times since their last encounter, fantasizing about her in the night. He wouldn't mind using her body to relieve the stress bunching his muscles and making his head constantly throb. But not for the price she wanted.

Triya slid to a seated position, dangling he legs off the side of the bed to straddle Raikol's knees where he stood. Slowing, teasingly, she slid her hands up his thighs to hook the waist of his pants, but stopped there.

"I have played both rolls. They mean nothing. If it is necessary to do so again to get what I want, then so be it." Meeting his gaze, Triya spoke flatly, her voice devoid of the emotion that would allow someone to know her feelings on such occurrences.

Something shifted in Raikol's chest. Had she had a choice in playing those roles? Had she been misused? He doubted she would tell him, even if he brought himself to ask. But for a moment, he couldn't respond, not knowing what to say to comfort her. Or himself, for that matter. They settled into a comfortable silence.

Finally, Raikol asked again. "Why me?"

Triya pursed her lips. "I already told you..."

"No. Drimelk had the patience to make a good father. Trivalm has the objectivity make a decent father. I don't have the constitution to raise a child."

"I hadn't assumed you'd want to."

Raikol jerked back, any good will he had tried to find toward the woman gone. "You think I'd abandon my child?" Venom dripped from the words.

Tilting her head, Triya allowed her hands to drop from his waistband. "I understood that men in your country have very little role in their children's lives."

Raikol sneered, not bothering to correct her. "Call the guards."

"Do you know how to change an infant's cloth? How to relieve a baby's bloated gut? How old a child should be before it is allowed to rest on its belly?"

Raikol pressed his lips together, irritation giving way to reluctant admittance. "No."

"Men in our country know these things. They are educated in caring for children. They assist in the nurseries. Men in your country don't."

"That doesn't mean we abandon our children. We provide, so our wives and children may be comfortable. We discipline-"

"Yes, because every good father should know how to use a whip on a child. Wives too, I understand." There was no malice in Triya's tone. It was like she simply accepted that Raikol wouldn't know any better. Simply accepted that Raikol would beat his wife. Or did she simply accept that he would beat her? Did she expect him to hurt her? Take pleasure in her pain? She had insinuated that she would do anything, bare anything, to conceive the child she so coveted.

"We don't beat our children or our wives." Raikol was taken aback at her assumption. Aghast, even. He couldn't imagine why she would make such a farfetched accusation. "That's not true. Why would you think that?"

"Experience."

This time the silence was not comfortable. Now Raikol didn't need to wonder if she had been mistreated. He was sure she had. But when? But was it here, now? By the Keepers? Or before? She spoke as if she had experience from Raikol's country. How could that be?

After several minutes, Raikol stepped forward. "I'm sorry."

It seemed the words were too small to encompass all he meant by them. He was sorry that she had been mistreated, sorry that they were both slaves, sorry that she couldn't have what she so desperately wanted. He was sorry that he couldn't be the one to give her what she wanted. Because in those moments he had thought of her, fantasized about her, it had been too easy to imagine her round with his child, or with his infant suckling her breast.

Triya, though, seemed to understand the comfort that he meant to impart, silently resteing her head against his abdomen. Lightly, Raikol stroked back her hair. A curious shift in his gut made him sigh heavily.

The game wasn't fun anymore.

But he didn't want this to be a game.

He wanted Triya.

"Have you ever been held?" He wasn't sure where the words came from, or why he asked them.

Triya pursed he lips, attempting to straighten and shift away from him. Raikol didn't let her though, sliding one hand behind her head to hold her still, the other moving to cup her cheek.

"Some men enjoy those things, mostly ropes." She stared to the side, refusing to lift her gaze to his.

Ah, yes. She would suffer anything to have the child she wanted, no matter how she feared the act. And Raikol could see the trepidation she so bravely tried to hide. He'd remember every time that Triya looked this way. And he would ensure that she never had to participate in the acts that caused to feel such dread.

Slowly, allowing her time to protest, Raikol sat next to her on the bed. He pulled Triya into his arms as he leant to settle on his side. When he looked down into her eyes, she looked confused. Raikol gave a low chuckle. No, she'd never been held before.