Trust Ch. 02

"You are the deadliest of fools. You have no respect for your life therefore less respect for ours. You are blinded by the disrespect you show. When my leader departed, his anger was great. It surrounded him and projected itself onto us. Yet, through that anger he established your safety. For your benefit we were instructed to protect your life or lose ours."

He shook his head once more and continued.

"Even from afar he gives you his finest protection. He offers you the freedom of it. Although he reveals nothing, I suspect that you have thrown it in his face. I believe that if you tell him where you desire to be, he will take you there himself and still stand watch. We have an order to deposit you in the midst of safety. Still we must watch over you there. He leaves his best with this duty as if you are a treasure."

Iona thought the shaking of his head to be a mental twitch. He seemed to have a hard time thinking and speaking at once.

"If you are a treasure, you are very well hidden within yourself. It is hard to believe that you were ever in service to anyone. What slave behaves as you do?"

"If I am not to be given any satisfaction, I am thus finished with conversation," she threw the words back at him with her hands on her hips. "Remove yourself from this space. I grow tired of you."

"I grow tired of you. You are a painful growth on my ass."

"Then I advise you to kiss the curve of mine and take your leave."

He gave her a dry laugh which only indicated that she was far from amusing.

"He said that he did not want you restrained," this time his voice made her shudder inside. He looked to be at his last inch of control. Kieren's whisper was in her ear. "I will if it saves my life and that of others. I will add to that the gift of binding your mouth. If you think of what crossed your mind before, if it shows in your eyes, I will tie you down—feeding and bathing you myself. I have no desire to be in close proximity to you, but it will be a small sacrifice in comparison."

With that, the door was slammed shut.

As he moved swiftly away from where she dwelled, the older man passed the one closely watching over the girl.

"Do not make me have to carry your burden again. I will slice your neck for it," he roared.

That one man, a much younger man, laughed in response. Seeing to her care had become his source of entertainment.

Iona grew hopeful. Kieren had shown some proof of care. But, the knowledge that they could not hurt her under Kieren's command created a new boldness.

From that point forward, a man was placed outside of Iona's door. If she left, he left with her. If she was not properly dressed to roam the ship, he grabbed her by the arm and shoved her back into the room. If she coughed, concern crossed his face. Sometimes she pretended to have trouble clearing her throat or acted as if she was choking to irritate him. His eyes would pin her down with anger. When she pretended to slip, he would claim her arm and curse when she was again steady on her feet. This became her only form of entertainment.

What she did not know is that every night he begged one man for relief.

"What fear should I have? She makes me want to end my own life," he exclaimed.

The one man chose to ignore him as he made his request.

"If I choose to leave my post," he warned the group behind the man, "some of you will die for sure."

That one man stepped forward so that he was in the guard's face. "I will torture you slowly myself before taking your life and then freely surrender my own. Kieren would not deny me this right. Like a woman you whine. My advice to you: Be a man-hopefully before she wakes."

The guards fear was evident. Next to Kieren, this one man was most dangerous and most capable.

The other men laughed as one man took his leave.

"You laugh because I am the only man among you," the guard directed toward the group. "You dream of her at night yet pale at the thought of coming near her."

The men laughed in agreement. He felt betrayed by his brothers.

Although not knowing what he did, Iona did know when he left his post—even to relieve himself. Sometimes she would get up and open her door wide. With fear he would rush in, only to find her dramatically feigning sleep. One time she hid. The entire ship was in an uproar. They found her sitting in Kieren's space without care, her hands clasped in her lap. Kieren's second looked upon her with the desire to wring her neck. She was not in fear of the old man. He could not disobey his orders. Of that she was certain. None would. Besides, she thought, they deserved such treatment.

She wished that they would let her go over the ship's side and die.

They wished that they could push her over the ship's side and watch her die.

Iona was not aware of the one that was informed of her every move. He monitored her eating habits and the smallest of her needs. He heard her tears at night and her moans of self-gratification. Because of both, he preferred to stay as far away from her as possible. It was for her benefit as well as his.

And so it went until she found herself fully dressed in the warmest of clothing, screaming curses while struggling on a rocky beach. After being bound and gagged, she was tossed over a broad shoulder. Iona was livid and did all she could to make his load as uncomfortable as possible.

Another ride up a river on a smaller ship and a short journey found her in the midst of a village. The village was brimming with life. For no reason at all, Iona continued to fight against her humiliating position. There were some words she wished to share as soon as she could. The men only laughed. As they passed, others laughed as well. Seeing the girl's attempt to fight someone so much larger than her, in such a helpless position, was amusing.

She did notice a market with meats hanging and some wares being sold. That was strange for this time of year. They must have an abundance, she reasoned. Surrounding Longhouses tamed the whip of the winds. Livestock plowed through the streets in transport. She saw bundled women wrapped in brightly colored cloaks heading to what must be their homes. Metal hitting metal sliced through the air. There was the consistent hum of hidden chatter. Iona smelled the cooking of meals behind closed doors and also vile smells that hurt her sensitive nose.

There were many men of all types. Some were obviously Kieren's. She imagined an artisan's mold failing to produce a perfect copy of Kieren. Kieren's form was without flaw. She had realized that each time he bared himself. Her dreams allowed her to touch the warm stretch of skin covering his strength, follow the path of fine hairs downward, and celebrate the feel of him in her hands. She could kiss the scarring on his back. The dream would end but her hands and lips would still feel him.

What hung between his thighs was no dream. Iona witnessed the beauty of that flesh. Some God had given Kieren a great gift. Iona wished her dreams would include the feel of him entering her, not as he had before. She wished to feel each inch of his gift claiming her, touching within her what had never been touched before. She knew that her body would not control itself as he fucked her. It would rise up to meet him, always desiring more. She would cry out each time he withdrew and thank him each time he drove in. Her arms would hold him tight, crushing herself beneath him. Close would not be close enough. Her nails would want to mark him. She would want him to mark her. The world would stop existing as he flooded her with his seed. Enough would not be enough. Afterwards, she would wish to taste him. She would wish to taste herself on him. Only then would she be able to believe that they were once one.

She knew that opportunity was ruined. Regardless, her thoughts left her dripping, her heart beating faster. Iona grew angry with her imagination. It had much better sex than any she had experienced.

The images that crowded her mind quieted her. Because of her calmed disposition, the men stood her up and removed her bonds. They warned her not to say a word before removing her gag. When she started to speak, a look made her think better of it. When she tried to run, the wall of someone's chest made her think better of that. She rubbed her nose.

"Where are you going to go?" an amused voice asked her.

Iona looked up into a handsome face smiling down at her.

"Far away from you, you swine."

"I must stay away from that mouth of yours. It bites quickly."

This brought on a roar of laughter from them all, which angered her more. Iona was thrown over another shoulder. She was too tired to fight. The battles of the day had worn her out. Did these men not rest, she wondered.

Finally she was brought to a huge dwelling, massive and formed with some thought of design—no crudeness to it. Her other master had been an owner of land and also a large longhouse. However, his was made of turf and sod with little timber. This longhouse could have easily consumed his. This one was all timber. Even the roof had a pointed frame of timber that sod only decorated. After gawking at it, she became aware that this could be her final destination.

Suddenly she panicked. Iona did all she could to prevent passing the threshold—which was not much. Knowledge that life would change, any control she had up until this point would cease to exist, frightened her. Obedience would be enforced by the threat of her life. Humanity hung in the balance. Most men had none, most women had less. A slave with a new master could become a victim of anything. Some are treated with care as a member of the household and some are abused like useless chattel.

Nevertheless, two men easily dragged her in.

Although forced, Iona knew it was necessary to remain quiet and calm once there. The situation must be examined fully. Every detail imprinted on her mind. She looked for indications that could comfort her thoughts.

There were three rows of high posts running down what Iona thought to be the length of the longhouse. They supported the roof over the central area. Positioned randomly around the room were long tables with assigned benches. The walls supported built in benches, they also wore decorations that were clearly a salute to Kieren, bearing what she assumed to be his mark. She had seen the design many times. That meant that he was somehow a part of what was here. However, she had not seen him and many men could fill this space. That was not a good thing.

The largest hearth Iona had ever seen sat in the middle corridor. Light from the midday skies filtered through strategically placed gaps in the roof. Pathways branched off, possible living spaces or storage areas. Stepping boards in a graduated fashion led upward toward lofts, one on each side. Iona guessed that such an owner would have carved beds for his family to sleep on. The master that cared for her the most had only one; its existence was for himself and his wife. She bet the members of this family did not have to sleep on any floors, and not as one. She hoped that her head would be given a separate place, one where she was safe from the large hands of sons.

What Iona did not see was straw scattered across the pounded earth beneath her feet. No tools hung from the walls. The preparation of food filled the air, not the scent of cattle or horses being held inside against the cold.

Maybe, she thought, this place was not for living. She saw nothing present that could help them survive the remaining days of winter. They had to store their gatherings somewhere. Nothing seemed stored here.

A rather large woman, who appeared to have had dark hair at one time, came out of an opening and stood by the hearth.

"Bring her to me," she said.

The men were happy to throw her forward. Iona almost fell.

The woman roughly grabbed Iona by the chin. She inspected her. "Show your teeth," she demanded.

Iona tried to bare her teeth without sneering.

"Cough," the woman said next.

Iona coughed.

"Hold up your arms."

This was strange to Iona, but she did what was commanded. Maybe the woman wished to check the curves of her form. Iona saddened. Maybe the woman would want to breed her.

"Now flap them."

Iona thought the woman truly crazed.

"I said flap those arms," the woman demanded.

The fear of what she may be subjected to filled her mind. Iona did what she was told.

Releasing Iona's chin with the same care in which she had claimed it, the woman boomed with laughter—accompanied by a protruding middle and a larger bosom.

"I've always wanted to do that to someone," she said, still laughing as she turned to the men.

The two men laughed with her. Iona felt humiliated by them all, but she showed no signs of her feelings.

"Ah, so this is the witch that has entranced him," she teased, looking back to the girl. "Obviously she is a pure delight, is she not? Such class and grace differentiates her."

Turning to the men, she smiled. "I hear she has the mouth of a shipman as well as his lack of fear."

"We have no desire to claim the noises she makes," one surrendered.

Iona hissed at him.

"She plays games as well," the old woman said, with one eyebrow raised. "Don't be so full of shit girl. Any fear you encounter here is due to Kieren, believe that. I'll have you know that I have no fear of him and less for you. I will put my hand to your ass if you desire to act like a spoiled brat. Where do you think Kieren learned?"

Iona's mouth dropped in shock.

"I will do worse if you speak to me the way you have spoken to these men."

As she closed her mouth, Iona's face shaded red-if possible. Nevertheless, she could feel the heat of it. If this domineering, rotund, old cow knew of Kieren's abuse, what other things did she know? Certainly, this woman could not be played with. Iona feared that too many mistakes had already been made. She knew that having a negative estimation of her nature could prove more than unpleasant.

"I beg forgiveness. I acted in fear," Iona said, dropping her head in submission. "I do so much wish to please my Mistress."

This brought looks of unbelievable shock from those responsible for her delivery.

"I don't even recognize this creature," one swore. "Careful, we have found that there is usually a quiet before this dark one's storm."

Looking sideways, Iona's eyes narrowed at the one who spoke.

"It is only because I have been harshly treated by these brutes." Iona's voice sounded innocent. "I am a slave that serves best in the most feminine workings of a household. I am unprotected against such handling."

"I bet," the woman roared in laughter.

"She is all yours," one of the men said with relief.

"In all her luscious glory," the other one added.

"Oh," one remembered, "I wouldn't leave any knives around. She puts on quite a show attempting to hurt herself. The result could possibly be that you desire to hurt her. Removing any knives within reach would lessen the chances of assaulting her. I am sorry; I cannot guarantee that you will not find a way to improvise. The situation can be that desperate."

"I would be more careful of the one she has stolen from Kieren and hides under her skirting." The other laughed. "Perhaps she has been saving it for her final attack."

"Their words intimate that these beasts have somehow managed to get under my skirting," Iona said in shock. "I am not aware of such a thing. I have been unseeingly defiled."

"Intimate," the woman mocked Iona. "Unseeingly defiled."

The woman looked into Iona's eyes as if searching for something. Iona tried to widen them in order to impress the woman with their brightness. If she was found easy to the eyes, she would be more suitable for the house. Women were much harder to convince.

"Good grief. Are you sure she was ever a slave? The girl could have you all under her spell if she chose."

This brought more laughter from the men.

"Maybe she was not a slave at all," one teased. "Maybe they had caged her in hopes of shutting her mouth."

"What they obviously forgot was a muzzle," the other concluded with a wide smile.

Iona was more than offended and the ability to suppress her anger was dissolving. Fear was the only thing that held her, for she was at the mercy of this woman.

"Sorry that I played with you so," through laughter the old woman spoke.

She then became more serious. "There are no slaves in this house nor are they encouraged in others. You are free and urged to move about as so. I have no pleasure in babysitting the children of others. Kieren is quite aware of this. If you fail to be considerate or unable to care for yourself, I will place you in a cage—with a muzzle. There you will wait for Kieren's return."

Iona considered the women for a while. After finding her honest and easily amused, Iona calmed. She was more than ready for a hearty meal, in spite of the needless comments from her so called protectors.

"For the two of you, I can no longer contain my thoughts," Iona started at first convenience. "Both of you are in need of a bath and are worthy of only kissing the curve of my brown behind. Feel free to kiss it twice, since excrement falls so freely from your mouths."

The men raised their arms to smell themselves.

"Oh," the large woman laughed louder than before, "she does have a quick tongue, and at a table filled with food. Kieren explained this to me while here. I did not estimate the depth of his words. No wonder he stays as far away from her as possible."

The woman's words immediately sobered Iona.

The woman missed nothing. She now realized that it was more than this rare beauty's tongue that left him homeless. The old woman also recognized sheltered pain within the girl.

"I am Brenna to you," the woman announced. Unable to stop herself she added, "Or, you can call me Mistress Brenna the Great and Maker of Miracles, if you prefer pretentions."

Brenna decided that she would watch the young girl carefully, not for self-harm but for the safety of others. The girl could take care of herself, although strongly ruled by her emotions—no matter how contained she appeared. It was Kieren that would quickly end a life if the girl was harmed in any way.

Brenna actually felt sorry for the poor child. No experience could have possibly prepared her for Kieran. He confused even the most developed woman. He was an easy man to fall in love with and a hard man to fall out of love with. There were many women that loved him deeply, knowing their efforts were endlessly fruitless. Kieran remained blameless, never one to make promises with no intention.

Though a man with substantial appetites that were easily filled without request, nothing drew Kieren's mind from the accuracy of his sword. His love was for steel, the design of his knives and the never ending sea. His need was for battle, the taking of what he wanted and distribution of what he felt just. This was not hidden from anyone. No woman could compare. Unfortunately, no man would ever compare after a woman felt the touch of his hand. It was this way since he discovered his own cock. In Brenna's opinion, he had been given too much power too soon. Having experienced much, he often found himself bored.

The little one had been touched, that was obvious. In what way Brenna was not sure, he gave no indication other than the sadness of guilt. She wondered if it was Kieren suffering from the little one's touch. The girl was unique in ways that went beyond the color of her skin and the twists of her long hair. Brenna could see how that would be of interest to him. Age had taught Brenna that anything was possible. It also told her that danger rested ahead.

"Where is Gunner?" she asked the men before letting them go.

"Gunner and the girl had words. For her safety, it is best that he also remain at a distance."