Truce Page 3
He left her to wash his hands in a nearby basin and then fetched pillows and furs from the bed. He came back and wrapped her in the supple skins from head to toe. Then he went to that magical, intense trunk at the foot of his bed and reached into it.
He withdrew the box she knew held the collar he had shown her. Tears sprang to her eyes as the emotions inside her warmed her in ways a fire never could. He knelt beside her and opened the box. She gazed at the glittering gold links only for a moment before he was lifting it from its padded velvet spot and setting the box down. He separated the links at the clasp and then slipped the collar around her neck and beneath her hair. As he reengaged the clasp she began to cry. It was all so much. More than she could bear.
“Now, my precious Pet, you truly belong to me,” he said.
“I don’t know that I deserve this,” she said.
“Are you questioning my judgment?” he asked sharply.
“No! I just… I don’t feel worthy.”
“You are that, and more. Never think less of yourself. You are a strong, beautiful woman. Just because you are submissive to me does not make you less than me. Never feel that way. Know your worth at all times. This collar will proclaim your value to all who see it. But you must proclaim it as well. You must show them that you are not to be belittled or trifled with. They should know that already, just by you being mine, but I cannot always be there to protect you and you must stand for yourself.”
“I will,” she said with a lift of her chin. “I will make you proud of me.”
“I am already proud of you. I have been since the moment I met you. You are a spectacular creature.”
He set the box aside, and when he looked back at her he must have seen the self-pride and self-confidence radiating out of her because he chuckled. “Good Pet. Sweet Pet. Ready to take on the world as my special Pet?”
“Yes, Sir,” she said strongly.
“But first we must make you warm. And then I think you will give me pleasure as I have given it to you.”
“Did you not derive any pleasure just now?” she asked keenly. She knew he had. She knew nothing gave him more pleasure than to torment her.
“Are there limits to how much pleasure you can give me?” he asked.
“No, Sir. I was merely asking.”
“Good girl. Keep aware of your surroundings and the effect you have on others at all times. You can give a great deal of pleasure to others just by them watching you, but you must not take any pleasure in it for yourself unless you have my permission to do so. I will not have you cuckolding me. You will be the mother of my children one day, and I will be confident those children are mine.”
She gasped. “I would never do that to you!”
“I know. If I thought you would, you would not have my collar. But the warning needed to be spoken aloud. I am always clear on my desires and expectations with you. I will not change that.”
“Please don’t. I am clever enough to guess what will please you most of the time, but I would rather be sure.”
“Self-motivation is always welcome. For instance, you could be touching me right now.”
“Yes, Sir, I could. But I am still very cold.”
“Then by all means, let’s warm you up,” he said, an intense gleam in his eye.
Chapter Three
Valerian was awake once more while Melena slept. She was exhausted. It had been almost dawn before they had gone outside into the snow, and by the time he had been done with her the sun had been up. It made no sense for him to go to sleep then, even though the tent could be made dark enough.
Not that he could have slept in any event. Today was far too crucial.
Did he need Grulon’s rebel army that badly? No. One small contingent of men would not make or break his effort. But… if they were the first of many small contingents gathered as they went… then that could make a difference. If Grulon joined, then it would set an example for others. He would make Grulon a leader over his people, and perhaps a lieutenant of his own. Any man who could keep a rebellion alive in the face of such insurmountable odds was a man worth having at his side.
Grulon could train Valerian’s men in the fighting tactics the rebels had used. His army was too used to direct confrontation… battle in a field, one enemy facing another. Grulon’s tactics had been stealthy. Sneaky. A bit dishonorable.
Valerian would need to be dishonorable to defeat his brother.
The word sat ill on his conscience, though. Was he being dishonorable? Part of him still believed he was. Part of him believed he was nothing but a low-life betrayer, going against his father’s wishes.
But his father’s wishes were conflicting in his mind. For as much as his father wanted him to be loyal to his elder brother, his father had also wanted him and his brother to be loyal to the people first… above all their own personal desires. Vicktor had long ago abandoned that ideal. He not only used the people for his own gain, he used them cruelly.
Enough justifying, he thought angrily in his own mind. He had made his decision. Now he was committed to his course. He could not wallow in doubt. He had too many others to care about.
Like Melena, and the rest of his harem. He had sent a dispatch that he wished for his women to be moved to a castle some distance from the fortress to await his pleasure -- not an unusual request for Valerian. He could only hope that the move could be made before Vicktor got wind of Valerian’s move against him.
So far the only ones who knew were Melena and Grulon and the men who had been present in the forest yesterday, most of whom he trusted, but there were spies everywhere. The attempt on Melena’s life was proof of that. He had sent his fastest rider to deliver the message that the women be moved.
If he had only made up his mind to move against his brother before leaving the fortress he could have taken them all with him. He could have seen them to safety. They were his responsibility.
However, he had a responsibility to thousands upon thousands of others too. Responsibilities to an entire nation that he had neglected for far too long.
He would be telling his army why they were moving today. It was going to be a day of upheaval because of it. Men who were loyal to Vicktor would want to leave… and he would let them. He didn’t anticipate there being much in the way of desertion, however. Most of these men were in it for the money, not for cause and country. As long as he kept them paid, they would follow him. Some might even follow him because they felt he would be the better ruler… that their lives would be improved. Some might follow him because they were loyal to him and had always followed where he led.
This, he believed, was the majority of his men. At least, it was what he had told himself. He could be wrong. Many men who were tired of warfare might take the opportunity to leave the life of blood and hard living behind.
Then there were the slaves. Hundreds of them. Thousands. At least two thousand of his men were slaves. They had no choice in the matter. They must follow wherever their master led them, and whether they belonged directly to him or to the men who served him, he was their master.
He need only look to Melena to see an example. Although she was not a slave, per se, she was still bound to him and dependent on him.
He wasn’t sure she recognized the true significance of the collar he had given her. He had never before given a collar to a shisha… or any woman. He had never felt what he felt for Melena -- he had never believed in a woman’s absolute loyalty before. He had doubted her yesterday. Doubted her motives. Doubted her return to him. Doubted she loved him. She had proven him wrong.
No woman had ever shown him such loyalty. Oh, he had shisha who loved him. His harem was well-trained, just as Melena was. But he had never trusted any of them fully.
His doubt had proven correct. One of them, either Hassa or Daria, had betrayed him, had reported to his brother Melena’s words of sedition. Vicktor had ordered her killed just because he feared her words might turn his brother’s loyalties.
The ironic
thing was, Vicktor’s attack had been the final straw in turning Valerian’s loyalties. Had he not done that, things might still be as they were.
No. No they wouldn’t. He would have turned eventually anyway. His brother’s behavior had been wearing him thin for quite some time. The only thing that had saved Vicktor from the full force of Valerian’s rebellion had been the promises Valerian had made to his father. He had clung to those promises for far too long.
The hours ticked by as Melena slept and Valerian wrote letters and sat alone with his thoughts. He kept everyone out of his tent, not willing to have them disturb his sleeping shisha.
She awoke shortly before Grulon’s deadline of noon. She moved from behind the curtain wearing one of his tunics. He watched her as she approached him, took in her sleep-flushed state. She looked so innocent. And she was. He saw the collar around her throat gleaming in the light of the torches and smiled softly.
“Do I please you?” she asked when she saw the smile. She went to kneel at his feet, but he stopped her and drew her into his lap instead. She snuggled against him, her arms draping about his neck.
“Always,” he replied. He reached up and stroked her sleep-mussed hair, smoothing it into place. She smiled, the expression softening her beautiful face. He remembered her last night in the cold, her body shivering, her nipples hard points, and her pussy full of a marble cock.
He realized he wanted her again. He felt he would always want her. He would have taken her, but the messenger from her brother could arrive at any time. For all he knew Grulon would be coming himself. It would be best not to remind him who owned his sister’s loyalties.
“I love my collar,” she said, her long fingers touching it. Caressing it. It had been measured perfectly. More proof to him she was destined to wear it.
“It looks lovely on you. It tells everyone you are mine. It pleases me to see it on you.”
“Do you really love me?” she asked him, meeting his eyes directly. “Above all others?”
“Are you doubting my words to you?” he said with a frown.
“No. No, I just… no one has loved me outside my family. I find it is strange… and wonderful.”
“You should be loved. You deserve to be loved. By me.”
Valerian did not ask her if she loved him in return. Love and loyalty were two different creatures. She would give her love when she was ready, just as she had given her loyalty when she was ready. She would not be rushed.
Also, he didn’t think he could take any sign of rejection of his affections. He found he was fragile where this was concerned. It was an unusual feeling. A frightening one. He did not like feeling vulnerable. He did not like the unevenness he perceived in their relationship.
“I do not deserve it,” she said, lowering her eyes. “I feel it is because of me that you have been set on this course against your brother. And I fear it is because of me that you might die in the process of this war. I don’t think I could bear that. How could I ever live without you?”
Her words heartened him immensely. She did love him. She simply could not speak the words to him yet for some reason. He wondered what that reason was. Was it because she feared losing him?
“I will not die,” he assured her. “I have made war many times upon many people of differing strengths. I have always come out victorious.”
“But this is Vicktor. He has such power. He can call up an enormous army.”
“This is his army. I have taken it away from him. He is now vulnerable without them, and it will take a great deal of time, effort, and charm to create a new one. My brother is not known for his charm.”
“He will use threats,” she said knowingly.
“He will. And some people will not respond to those threats if they are given a second choice.” He gestured to the letters stacked up on his desk.
“And you are giving them a second choice?”
“Everyone will have to choose eventually. Vicktor or me. It is imperative that my offer be the better one.”
“How will you win them over?”
“By promising them the things they want. Land. Money. Power. A place in a new regime. It is all a matter of knowing what each individual desires. And I have known these lords for quite some time. I know what they desire.”
“You always seem to know what someone desires… even when they don’t know it themselves.”
She was referring to herself and, no doubt, her introduction to pleasure through pain. After all, it was not a concept one eagerly embraced for the first time. That and it took a very special kind of person to feel pleasure at the application of pain. She had responded because she was built for it. There had been no guarantees… but she had responded beautifully. He had been very fortunate. Very lucky. She was a treasure, and he had happened upon her through a series of delicate twists of fate.
If Vicktor had not offered him a choice from the slaves brought to him she would no doubt be living a life under his brother’s not-so-tender auspices. The idea of Vicktor’s hands on her blinded him with fury.
He took a slow, calming breath in through his nose and released it in a controlled fashion, cooling his anger. It had not happened. She was with him. She was his. That was all that mattered.
He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling it until her chin tipped up. Then he placed a kiss beneath her chin. He continued in a line down her throat, pausing at the base where her pulse throbbed beneath her collar. He nuzzled beneath the gold links and bit her, hard enough that she made a sound. But it was not a sound of protest. It was one of encouragement. Her hands came to his chest, then slid boldly down between his legs, fondling his growing erection. He chuckled.
“Such a naughty Pet,” he said against her skin. “You want me to forget I have other responsibilities just so I can attend to you.”
“It is I who should be attending to you. Tell me what you wish of me. I will do anything to please you, Sir.”
Her hands stroked him harder, almost too hard, and he enjoyed the sensation far too much. It was becoming difficult to remember why he needed to keep control of his passions for the moment.
“Enough, Pet. For now,” he added when he saw her pout.
“But --”
“Do not ruin the moment by being disobedient,” he warned her.
She merely smiled. “You love it when I am disobedient,” she pointed out.
He chuckled, for it was true. She was at her best when she was being a brat. He could not get enough of her when he saw that fire inside her coming out. “That does not give you license to do so whenever you wish. Now get up and sit at my feet like a good Pet.”
She immediately did so, pressing her cheek to his thigh and looking up at him through her lashes. “Are you hungry, Sir? I can make us something to eat.”
“We have slaves for that.”
“Am I not your servant?”
“You serve me, but you are not my slave. I should not have to repeat myself about this.”
“No. Of course not. Then let me fetch a slave and see you fed. Let me take care of you.”
“If it is that important to you, then you may do so.”
“It is that important to me. Plus, I am hungry myself,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “So it is possible I am doing it for me more than for you.”
“Such a brat. Go. Fetch food.”
She got to her feet and hurried to the entrance of the tent where someone would be waiting outside to attend them. Usually there would be slaves inside the tent to attend them, but he had ordered everyone out. He had wanted peace as he wrote words of war.
She returned shortly, gliding down into place at his feet. She looked up at him and cocked her head. “Perhaps you can serve me in a way,” she said.
“How so?” he asked with a lift of one brow.
“Make my brother a trusted man. He will have to prove himself of course, but give him the opportunity to do so. He has matured in many ways since I last saw him. He is still stubborn and some
times impulsive, but he has become a great leader of men. When I was there I saw his men attend him much in the way yours do you.”
“He has proven himself a good leader… and a clever one.” Valerian looked down at her steadily. “What will you do for me in order to secure your brother a place among my men?”
She considered this a moment, then said, “I will do just as much as always… which is to give you anything you want. As always I am yours to do with whatever you will.”
“I already know this. I am seeking something special from you. I want you to use your mind creatively and consider a way to repay me.”
He didn’t tell her he had already intended to give her brother a trusted place among his men. He was too intrigued by the opportunity. What would she come up with? She had such a clever mind, but she was still innocent in many ways. It was one of the things about her that so appealed to him.
He wondered if she would ever lose that innocence. It would be sad to see her become hardened and worn out by life. She had been at risk of it when he found her. Slavery could be so hard on a spirit. But she had not been a slave long enough for it to impact her permanently.
“I will think of something,” she said softly before pressing her cheek to his thigh and closing her eyes.
Chapter Four
Grulon arrived not to long after they finished their repast. It was either very brave or very foolish for him to walk into his enemy’s camp with only a few men for protection, but the act itself told Valerian what his answer was.
“I will join you. My men will fight for you, if only to keep Vicktor and the Jorku nation off of our backs forever. I am taking you at your word that you will do so only because I trust my sister’s estimation of your character. She has never steered me wrong and has always done whatever it took to take care of me and our family, even to the sacrifice of her own happiness.”