Read Warlord Page 2


  She defied him with a fiery glare. “I will escape you,” she hissed.

  “You will fail. And any attempts to escape will also be met with punishment. Consider this before you act.”

  “You do not frighten me,” she lied, speaking through clenched teeth.

  “It is not my intention to frighten you. Only to inform you of cause and effect. The rest is up to you. Now kneel beside the bed and wait for my attention.”

  Chapter Two

  She stood defiantly, daring him to act. Valerian smiled a little smile. “You may choose to stand. But you must pick one. Kneel or stand. You cannot change your mind. You cannot switch position. I ask you to kneel only because you will grow weary simply standing here for endless hours. And it will be endless hours. I promise you.”

  She hesitated. He was making it difficult to defy him, constantly making it seem like she had a choice in what happened. But there was no free will here. There were no good choices. She was forced to consider his words. Which position could she hold out in the longest? Which would make her more comfortable and put her in a better position to defy him?

  Grudgingly she sank down to her knees, the carpeting surrounding the bed cushioning her knees. She sat back on her heels and glared up at him.

  “A wise choice,” he said to her, reaching out to stroke the rise of her cheek with two fingers. “Now, so we do not mistake one another, you will choose how I will punish you if you misbehave. You may choose flogging or binding. It’s completely up to you.”

  “I…” She hesitated, confused. She had not expected this. Of the two binding seemed the less intimidating, but she would not give him the satisfaction of obeying him and selecting a punishment. “I will not choose. I choose to remain unpunished. This is what I choose.”

  “Then you need only behave. But let’s face it, you will misbehave. I can see this in every inch of your body language. You will try to defy me and because of your defiance you will be punished. Now choose a method.”

  “I will not!”

  “Choose, or I will demonstrate both methods on you here and now to give you a better understanding of your choices.”

  Again she hesitated. She did not want to choose. But then again, she did not want to be punished. Still, wouldn’t it be better to be punished then to give in to any of his demands?

  “You may want to conserve your strength for later,” he advised her.

  Given a choice, she relented. “Binding,” she said tightly.

  “A good choice, although I confess I would have liked to see your bare bottom red with welts from a flogging. I imagine that would be quite a pretty picture.”

  Her mouth dropped open. She was aghast. What kind of man was this? Where had she found herself? What did the future hold for her at his hands?

  “Do not fret,” he said gently. “You will one day find pleasure in both methods of punishment. Then what will I do to keep you in line?”

  She gasped. “Never! I will never take pleasure in anything you do to me!”

  “We shall see, Pet. We’ve many nights ahead of us before I must return to the battlefront. We’ll see what we can accomplish in that amount of time.”

  She jerked her head away from his touch and he let her do so with a smile, leaving her feeling panicked inside. She was powerless. There was nothing she could do which would faze this man. But still she had to try. She had to fight him as best she could.

  For the moment she subsided. She sat down and watched as he went about his business. She grew weary of kneeling after the first hour and she shifted to put her backside on the carpet. She barely made a sound as she did so, but his head jerked in her direction almost immediately.

  “I did not say you could stop kneeling,” he said firmly.

  “I’m tired,” she argued.

  “Would you be less tired if I bound you?”

  The threat was very real. She could hear it in the strength of his voice. She didn’t know what binding entailed, but she knew she didn’t want to find out. She was not out to make her situation even worse than it already was.

  “I’m sorry,” she bit out as she shifted back onto her knees.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” he corrected her.

  “I’m not going to call you that,” she ground out.

  “Would you prefer ‘master’? I will accept either. It is your choice.”

  Again he was giving her choices, she thought with frustration. Neither of which she liked. But again she was swayed to find the lesser of two evils. She refused to call him master. He would never master her. She would see to that.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she said through her teeth.

  “Excellent. I am beginning to have high hopes for you.”

  Melena growled in irritation. Why did she continue to give in to him? Was she really so weak? Surely if her brother could fight armies she could defy one man.

  Her knees began to ache into the second hour of kneeling. In spite of being on a thickly woven rug, she could still feel the cold stone beneath her knees right through it. She was clothed in a rough and dirty shift made of burlap and it itched. These little discomforts began to add up as time ticked by, but she set her jaw and bore it well.

  After about three hours of listening to him work and plan his strategies with his comrades, a small amount of respect began to blossom in her head. He was an intelligent man, a good thinker with a head for strategy. He planned his troop movements and the actions he would be taking right in front of her, as if she wasn’t the sister of an enemy currently eluding him. But it only went to solidify his confidence she was powerless and would never have the opportunity to share what she was learning with anyone else.

  Her legs fell asleep, which she was thankful for because she could no longer feel her aching knees. Just when she thought she couldn’t bear kneeling there for a minute longer, he looked up from his work and directly at her. He moved to stand beside her, his powerful legs braced apart and his arms folded over his broad chest. He was an overwhelmingly masculine male. He did not swagger, but he had a quiet arrogance that told everyone around him he was strong and he knew it. He was not a man to be trifled with. He was in command of his universe.

  He reached down to touch the top of her head, petting her a moment before picking up a lank lock of her hair. “I think it is time we cleaned you up a bit. Get to your feet.”

  “I can’t,” she said, glad she could defy him even in this small thing.

  “You can’t?”

  “My legs are asleep. They won’t work right.”

  “Well then, let’s circumvent them, shall we?” He bent down and before she could react he had lifted her into his arms, her numb legs dangling over one of his arms and her torso pulled up tightly to his. She pushed at his chest, squirming in resistance to his hold.

  “Would you prefer I drop you?” he asked softly.

  She realized he would do exactly that if she gave him a contrary reply. She set her jaw angrily and settled down in his arms.

  He carried her out of the room and into an adjoining one. In the center of this room was a bath almost the size of the room itself. In the bath were several women, and even some who were lounging on chairs in various states of undress. Valerian walked to the edge of the tub where there were stairs leading down into the bath. He set her down with her feet in the water, then straightened and turned to the other women there. “You will see she is bathed and made ready for my pleasure tonight,” he announced to them.

  The announcement had a variety of responses on the women’s faces. Two of the women got up and hurried to his side, prostrating themselves before him, their hands stroking his booted feet.

  “Is there anything else we can do for you, Sir?” asked a petite little blonde with pink painted lips and wide blue eyes. She was nearly naked, see-through silks the only thing swathing her body.

  “Just take good care of her, Anajou, as I know you will. See she is ready for me by sunset.”

  “Yes, Sir,” the women all replied
as one. Watching them fawn over him made Melena sick to her stomach. Is this what he would expect of her? Well, it wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it.

  Valerian turned and left the bathing chamber. Once he was gone a swirl of voices surrounded her. Women of all shapes, sizes and looks came close to her. Anajou tried to touch her but Melena jerked back away from her.

  “Leave me alone!”

  “I’m sorry, but we cannot do that. We have our instructions and they must be obeyed. You wouldn’t want to get any of us in trouble, would you?”

  Melena scanned the faces around her. They all looked amused, as if they were keeping some kind of secret. It irked her. But her conscience got the best of her. She didn’t want anyone to get in trouble because of her. She could start her own trouble when the time came.

  Besides, if their intent were to bathe her and clothe her in anything different from what she presently wore, she wouldn’t turn them down. As it was she was afraid she had gotten lice or some other parasite. Her head itched. But it could just as easily be dirt irritating her scalp. She was really quite filthy.

  “Come. Remove this hideous dress. We will bathe you and dress you in fine silks. You’d like that now, wouldn’t you?”

  “I don’t need silks. I don’t want to be painted and presented like all of you are,” Melena sniped.

  Anajou did not look insulted in the least. Again, she looked amused. But there was one girl there who was paying no attention to her. She sat in a tufted lounge chair with her feet up and her attention on the book in front of her. Well, mostly. She would glance at Melena from the corners of her sloe eyes. She had black hair braided in a thick twist that ended at her hip. Jeweled clasps sparkled from the tip of the braid. She wore a priceless choker of amethyst and diamond stones worked into delicate gold. She was probably one of the most beautiful women Melena had ever seen. Suddenly she felt ugly and dirty and less around these great beauties.

  “I am Hassa. This is Anajou. This is Daria,” a pretty brunette at her left said, pointing to the black-haired beauty. “We are the mothers of the harem.”

  “Mothers? You have children?”

  “No. We are not allowed to have children until an heir is born to the emperor. It only means we are the senior women of the harem. We three were here first and have been here the longest.”

  “I do hate when you say senior,” Daria complained. “It makes us seem old. And I am far from old.”

  “Do not be so vain, Daria. We can see you are not old.”

  “How long have you been here?” Melena asked.

  “Since the harem began five years ago. Valerian wasn’t allowed a harem until Vicktor’s first child was born. We have slowly collected over time since then. We three were the original gift from Vicktor to Valerian when he started the harem.”

  “Are you all his wives?” Melena was horrified.

  “No! Valerian has not taken a wife yet. That will come as children come. If they ever do. We long to be mothers, but Valerian must not have an heir until Vicktor does and Vicktor has only daughters so far, much to his annoyance. But two of the harem on Vicktor’s side are ready to give birth any day and there will soon be a son. Oh I do hope so! I would very much like a child!”

  “But how do you keep from having a child? Isn’t that something only the gods can decide?”

  “There is a potion we take which is one hundred percent effective. The trouble is if you take it for too many years it will render you infertile,” Anajou said. “I already fear it has done so for me.”

  “Nonsense,” Hassa said. “It usually takes ten years of taking the potion before you are rendered permanently infertile. You are but halfway there.”

  “So you say. But that is not a fixed statistic and you know it. Anyway, I long for a child. Then I could become his wife.”

  “You cannot become his wife unless you have his child first?” Whoever heard of such a barbaric and prejudicial thing? To not be given the respect of being a wife until you proved yourself a good breeder? It was awful. Melena blinked back a sudden rush of tears. What kind of place was she in? What kind of terrible situation? Not that she wanted to be wed or to bear this barbarian’s children, but if fate did not see fit to rescue her from this situation she could see what her future might become. A whore for a man’s appetites. A man she despised. She would be a creature solely dependent on him. A creature that might never know the joys of having a child, a joy she had longed for and hoped for before all of this had begun.

  This entire situation was a fate worse than death. She would have been better off if she had been killed outright. But her situation now was a hopeless one. She knew the powerful machine that was the Jorku nation. There was no way her brother or anyone else would get close enough to the mighty Jorku fortress, never mind rescue a simple farm girl from the eastern plains.

  Tears filled her eyes again, and this time she could not blink them back. They fell from her eyes in two fat drops.

  “Oh no. You mustn’t cry,” Anajou said softly near her ear, her hand coming out to pet her dirty hair. “I know it does not seem like it now, but you are a most fortunate woman. Valerian is a kind and loving man. He cares for us quite deeply and treats us with a great deal of caring and respect.”

  “B-but he makes you bow and scrape before him! How is that treating you with respect?”

  Anajou smiled a secretive little smile. “You will come to understand,” she assured Melena gently. “But you must resign yourself to your fate. As of now there is no future for you outside of the harem walls. The sooner you accept this, the easier this will be.”

  “I will never accept captivity!”

  Anajou sighed. “You will. One day. Once you see there is no escape from here. Then you will see how truly blessed you are. We live in the grandest of palaces in all the many lands of the Venai continent. There are other palaces that the brothers occupy at different times of the year or as troops advance in whatever direction, but this is home and this is the very best of all the many cultures the brothers encounter.”

  “You mean enslave!”

  “Valerian takes very few slaves in his travels, and even fewer into his home. But you are no longer a slave, Melena. Now you are a shisha, one honored to grace the bed of one of the royals.”

  “Am I free to move about the fortress?”

  “Not without an escort.”

  “Then I am still a slave!”

  “The escort is more for your safety than anything else,” Anajou corrected. “There are many rough men in the fortress. Soldiers and lieutenants. Also, it is to ensure we do not bed any men other than Valerian, in order to assure any heirs born are his own.” Anajou leaned in and rested a comforting hand on Melena’s arm. “There are rules and as long as you follow them you will live a life of comfort and luxury.”

  “I do not want comfort and luxury! I want to be free to return to my home! To my brother and sisters!”

  “It is best you put them out of your thoughts. This is your life now. You must accept it or you will be broken inside.”

  “Then I will be broken. I am never going to stop loving or wanting them!”

  “I do not mean you should stop loving or wanting them, only that you should put aside any thoughts of ever seeing them again. Now come. Let us bathe you and make you pretty.”

  “I prefer to be ugly and dirty if it means keeping that man at bay!” Melena said defiantly. But even as she said it she looked longingly at the fresh, cleansing water. She scratched her head in reflex.

  “Do not be like that. Let us help you.”

  “No!” Melena slapped Anajou’s hand away when she went to lift the dirty burlap dress from on her body.

  “Why? Why not take comfort in cleanliness? I know you want to. If you wish to defy our lord and master there are other ways to do so. If you think being dirty will stop him then you are mistaken. Nothing can stand in Valerian’s way once he decides to conquer it.”

  “I will not be one of those things he simply c
onquers and moves on from! He cannot have everything he wants!”

  “He can, and he will.”

  Chapter Three

  “You can have strength in this for yourself,” Anajou insisted. “Make yourself clean and strong. Meet him as an equal. Be proud of who and what you are. Can you take pride in yourself like this?”

  Melena knew she could not. Anajou had a point and Melena could not argue with it much more. If she were to meet with this man, it had to be on as equal a footing as she could possibly manage.

  “Besides, if you do not let us bathe and dress you we will be reprimanded and possibly punished.”

  But for some reason she got the idea Anajou would not mind punishment so much. It was something in her eyes. In the soft curves of her smiling features.

  “Do as she says,” Daria said shortly. “Stop prevaricating.”

  Something in the other woman’s tone rubbed Melena the wrong way. She stiffened, but Anajou stroked her arm soothingly. “Never mind her. She’s just jealous.”

  “Of me?” Melena asked, astounded. “I don’t even want to be here!”

  “It is your beauty and newness she is jealous of.”

  “I am no great beauty. Certainly not to rival her. She’s amazingly lovely.”

  “You will be too. There is much beauty to be found in you. But for today, let us settle on cleanliness.”

  Melena relented, allowing Anajou to remove the hideous burlap dress and allowing her to lead her into the waters of the giant bath. The waters were warm and soothing.

  Melena found herself being led and guided by Hassa and Anajou. They each picked up a cloth, filled it with a perfumed soap oil and then gently washed all of the grime away from Melena’s skin. At first Melena was embarrassed by the women’s attentions, by the feel of their intimate caresses on her body, but soon she found it soothing. It helped calm her. Center her. It helped her feel more grounded. They spread a paste that smelled of almonds onto the hairs on her body. When it was washed away she found she was completely hairless. It seemed almost miraculous to her. And she felt a little exposed as well.