Cade 31

Mikota stood naked and watched the suns set from a window in King Kryler’s chamber. Sleek dampness leaked down sore inner thighs to drip on the cold stone floor at her feet. A fitting place for his seed, she thought, and refused to think about the contents of her belly.

She did not turn from the window or bother dressing. Slaves silently filled the huge bronze tub with steaming hot water and changed the blood and seed soaked sheets.

The king was gone on castle business for a few short hours. He slapped her naked bottom and commanded her to bathe for a long night of rutting upon his return.

She heard the door click softly as the slaves left the chamber and turned toward the bath. She lowered slowly into the scalding water for the second time in her life. The water stung her feminine folds, sore and torn from the king’s thrusting.

She reached for the lye soap and tried to scrub his touch from her skin. She was disgusted and confused.

Thrown so off guard by the witch’s words, she was unable to concentrate, to summon any power at all the first time the king ravaged her body. It was fast and painful, the king taking her from behind. Of course the spiced wine he forced on her off and on all day long stopped any clear thinking.

After that, her thoughts did not string together more than two at a time. The things the king did to her body, made her do to his, disturbed to such a degree she could not think about them without being ill. So she retreated inside her mind and let him have her body, over and over.

Shame, hot and acidic, colored her cheeks. He wasn’t content with her distance, so used his hot tongue and thick fingers to stroke response after response from her treacherous body.

She scrubbed harder.

When the water started to cool she stepped over the wide bronze lip and grabbed the drying cloth. She was checking to make sure the mark was still covered when the door flew open.

A woman in red leather britches entered. Her black hair pulled up into a bun with massive black ringlets falling onto creamy white shoulders. Two huge soft globes of flesh pushed up from an over tight black corset tied with red string in the front. Piercing gray eyes pinned Mikota and froze her blood. There was malice in those eyes and something else, something Mikota didn’t recognize.

“I am Renel. Do you know me?” The woman asked.

Mikota immediately dropped her eyes and fell to her knees. “I do.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. Mikota never saw the woman before but she knew of her. Renel was one of King Kryler’s sisters. One of many locked up tight in the women’s wing of the castle so no black knight might be tempted to soil them. The wing housed its own kitchen, private court yard, and slaves. The women only ever left the protection of it while with the king. All except Renel, who was the most head strong and rumored the most vicious, with a temper even hotter than the king’s.

“Good,” the woman said and walked toward Mikota, red leather creaking softly.

“Stand and remove your drying cloth,” she said.

Mikota did not hesitate. Her cheeks heated as she stood naked before the woman.

“Look at me,” Renel said.

Mikota lifted her purple gaze to meet the cold stony gray eyes. Renel was beautiful, her skin perfect. Her jaw was almost square and her face full of harsh angels. A slight smell of jasmine wafted from her. Large emeralds adorned her ears and throat.

Mikota tried not to stare at such harsh beauty blatantly displayed.

Renel raised her dark black brows and sighed. “We are being over run with purple eyed whores.” She shook her head as if to clear it, sending dark ringlets dancing. “No matter. Like what you see slave?” An emerald ring flashed as she rubbed a soft white hand gently across the expanse of her exposed breasts. Then just as quickly, the emerald laden hand slapped Mikota’s face.

Mikota’s cheek stung and heated, her eyes watered.

Renel smiled and cupped Mikota’s face almost tenderly. She drifted a forefinger down Mikota’s neck and outlined her prominent collar bone, then leisurely cupped Mikota’s full right breast in her palm as if weighing it. Her gray eyes focused on the perfect globe.

Mikota's heart thumped hard. She wanted to pull away but kept herself very still. If Renel was anything like her brother pulling away would only make her more aggressive.

“My brother is in the dining hall at this very moment regaling his soldiers with stories about his sweet tasting virgin.” Renel’s thumb rotated gently on a nipple causing it to stand erect. “I listened from the alcove above the hall.”

Bile rose in Mikota’s throat. She swallowed it.

“He said your moans drove him to such passion he plans to keep you here, locked in his chamber, until he tires of you.” The back of her fingers brushed Mikota’s flat stomach. “He spoke of lushness and wet heat. I dare think more than one slave will be ravaged tonight by the hearers of such an amorous tale. But I see for once, my brother was not lying.”

Mikota did not move but her heart felt as if it would jump from her chest and run from the room. When Renel’s hand cupped her femininity and squeezed, she flinched from the shock and pain.

Renel smiled and pulled her hand away. “It is as I thought,” she said. “You are sore from his rutting. My brother can be a passionate man.” She pulled a clear glass vial with white powder from the waist of her leathers. “You will mix this with water and drink all of it tonight to keep from conceiving.”

She laid the vial on the table beside the bronze tub.

Mikota couldn’t take her eyes off the small glass vial. A way to keep from conceiving? She wanted the white powder in the vial more than she wanted Renel to leave. It represented life. Survival.

Renel moved from the tub toward the bed, her back toward Mikota. She stopped and stared at the fresh linen for a long moment.

“You will not tell my brother I was here,” Renel said then turned to pin Mikota with a steely look. “In fact slave,” she practically spat. “You will take no pleasure in his coupling. I know most slaves are bred whores, but you will forgo your nature and heed my words. Do you understand? ”

Mikota gave a nod not really understanding at all.

“Good,” Renel said and swept from the room slamming the huge wooden door in her wake.

Mikota took in a shaky breath and lifted a hand to her still stinging cheek. A small flame of anger ignited her belly.

She grabbed the vial and placed it with her red silk robe on the chair. Then found her place in the middle of the king’s bed, the spark of an idea forming in her head.