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Slaves to Passion (greybishop & ShadowOfDesire)

Jacelyn didn't really want to give Emelin over to strangers, but she couldn't argue that it would give the girl the best chance of survival. The southerners were desperate and hungry enough to keep their part of the bargain, especially since delivering the maid to safety meant more money in their pocket. The girl was still unresponsive the next morning, but Jacelyn murmured a few words in her ear anyhow before she tucked the blanket in tightly about her curled body. Taking several steps back to stand with Lukas, she offered Nicola a nod at the woman's silent look, an unspoken agreement passing between them in that moment. The ranger stood passively as the cart started off the way they'd come, watching until it disappeared into the trees.

Then, and only then, when they were finally alone together, did Jacelyn loop her fingers into the swordsman's belt and pull him against her for the proper kiss they'd denied themselves. The fighting had been intense, and she'd been far too busy to worry over Lukas, especially knowing that he was a capable warrior. However, once the fighting had ended and her blood still surged with adrenaline, she'd wanted nothing more than to have him pin her against the wall and fuck her senseless.

Her lips were soft against his, tongue roving and exploring, refusing to be denied. She wanted to taste him properly, to remind herself of his scent and flavor, to remember what it felt to have his hardened, unyielding muscle pressing against her softer curves. Perhaps it was out of character for the woman in some regard, but she'd also never given herself to any man the way she'd done so with Lukas.
 
A look of genuine surprise crossed Lukas’ face just before Jacelyn pressed her full lips against his, but he returned her passionate kiss with enthusiasm for quite some time. Which may have made what happened next all the stranger …

The big warrior suddenly pulled back from the ranger and spoke to her sternly with a similar expression on his face. “Well now, it seems someone amongst us has forgotten how she’s to behave when we’re alone. I’ll have to attend to that.” And then just as suddenly Jacelyn was grasped by her shoulders and turned in place, and her nightshift was being pulled up her slender torso – but then suddenly stopped when the garment was tangled up around her arms and face. A split second later she was being pressed forward so that her bound head and shoulders were resting atop a nearby crate, while her poor scarred back was bared to the warm morning sun and her full breasts dangled with their tops brushing against the crate’s rough wood. “Don’t move” was all she heard behind her as her breeches were then swiftly undone and pulled down over her full hips to her ankles, leaving the backs of her long legs and shapely bottom just as exposed as her scars were.

As a strong hand pressed down lightly against the small of the ranger’s back, ‘encouraging’ her to arch it slightly, she heard the sellsword speak once again. “I could say this is going to hurt me as much as it’s going to hurt you.” There was a pause. “But that would be a lie.” And then the blows started landing on Jacelyn’s rear. Each one was precisely delivered to simply sting, but they kept coming fast even as the big warrior moved his hand from one side of the ranger’s bottom to the other. And so soon enough he was pleased to see her lovely arse cheeks glowing a delightful shade of pink, which told him they were almost certainly warm and throbbing as well.

Lukas stopped then, though his one hand remained on the small of Jacelyn’s back; he was breathing lightly as he spoke to her sternly once more. “Now slave, do you remember how to behave when we’re in private?”
 
Just before she'd completely melted in his arms, Jacelyn found herself in a surprising predicament. Her mind swam as Lukas berated her for slipping, though she had absolutely no idea what she'd done to incur such a punishment. Even so, she did not disobey him. Bent over the crate, she suffered through his stinging swats with as much poise as she could muster, though the last few had her squirming as her sensitive flesh was punished even more. His attentions brought tears to her eyes, though she didn't allow herself to sob. Instead, she managed the pain with several shuddering breaths and closed her eyes, moaning throatily until the last swat fell.

Her aching cheeks were flushed and slightly numb, but it was the other effects of his spanking that kept her attention. Her slit was glistening with lust and throbbing with need in sharp counter to the pain he'd caused to her rear. It was a terrible, shameful response, but she could no more control her body's natural inclinations than any bird aching to fly or a fish needing to swim. The response had been trained into her, taught to her by countless men, some far more frightening and terrible than Lukas could ever be. Sexual pain and suffering would always be pleasurable to the ranger. Once, she had tried to deny her perverse desires, but such a thing could never last... not when there were men like Lukas in the world.

Drawing in a deep breath, Jacelyn bit back another moan at Lukas' question. If he'd spanked her to arouse her lust, he'd certainly done a thorough job of it. While she couldn't see him through her shift, she automatically turned her head in his direction. "Please... Master... will you teach me how I should behave when we are alone? Will you show me what would please you most?"
 
Lukas grinned broadly when he saw how his punishment had affected Jacelyn; the big warrior hadn't missed the slender ranger's throaty moans, or the way her sex had opened like a flower, basking in the morning sun and glistening with nectar. That made him almost as happy as Jacelyn's surprisingly impulsive kiss had, though he didn't want her to know either fact yet.

Sitting there in the cold last night, trying to write to Mathis, the sellsword's mind kept straying to the woman who now wore his collar; it was only duty that kept him from seeking her out then and there. But it was more than a soldier's simple desire for a good fuck after a fight to confirm he was still alive; Lukas knew he was falling in love with Jacelyn. That thought didn't bother him exactly – he even wrote her another poem as he sat there – but it did... concern him; he'd been in love once before and it hadn't ended well at all. And he also thought that it might be... better, or maybe easier for Jacelyn if she thought he was truly upset with her that morning. So even though she couldn't see him, he plastered the stern look back on his face so that his voice would match. "Better slave. But I think it's time for you to learn another lesson."

Lukas squatted down behind Jacelyn and rubbed the tip of his thumb over her slit, coating it with her honey. Then with a push and a twist, he slipped it into her cunt and let it just sit there for a time; he could feel her silky warmth fluttering around his digit, as her body tried to cope with the sudden intrusion. While he waited the sellsword continued on in the same matter of fact voice he’d been using all along.

“I have no doubt the Northmen used you in every way possible. Perhaps that was my mistake, letting you think it wouldn’t be the same with me.” He began slowly moving his thumb back and forth within her. “But since you’ve shown some sign of repentance, some understanding of your station, I’ve decided to show you a little kindness and consideration.” He paused. “Remember slave, the best way for you to cope with this is to just relax and let it happen.”

Then two fingers of Lukas’ hand curled up, found the swollen little nub at the top of Jacelyn’s slit hiding amongst her curls, and began lightly stroking it. As that happened his other hand pulled at one of her poor, abused cheeks and opened the crack of her arse to the cool morning air. And then his tongue flicked out, licking and teasing the little rosebud between those cheeks that was now exposed and vulnerable, coating it liberally with his saliva …
 
Another throaty moan accompanied Lukas' teasing and subsequent invasion into her sopping cunt. Jacelyn twitched beneath his hands, squirming as he stroked her. Her body was already thrumming in response, begging for more, though she didn't beg aloud. The most she allotted herself were the low groans of frustration or pleasurable moans of anticipation as he worked her closer to her peak. She wasn't yet in a frenzy, for it'd take far more for the ranger's experienced body to reach that point, but she was well on her way to finding that climax if Lukas continued in the same fashion.

His attentions to her rear made her tense at first, but the muscles of her thighs slowly relaxed as she felt the first welcoming tickle at her forbidden entrance. Splayed and open wide for him, he could witness the way it pulsed each time she moved, greedy for his attentions. Realistically, she knew what the swordsman was working toward, and it made her stomach flutter in anticipation. Even if he did not take her fully, any punishment paid to that rarely used hole was a great delight to the ranger. Never had she ever been so content as to when she had both of her holes plugged at once.

Had anyone stumbled across them in that moment, they'd likely assume that the swordsman was taking his prize by force. That he'd captured a hapless maiden and had her bent over the crate so he could have his way with her. The idea wasn't all that far from the truth, with the one exception that Jacelyn was an eager and very willing participant. As she'd taken his collar, she was obviously eager and willing to submit herself to whatever the man desired. With both of her holes were wet and glistening from his attention, throbbing and sensitive and equally urging him for more, it was exceedingly clear that the ranger was enjoying every moment of their time together.
 
After coating Jacelyn to his satisfaction Lukas stood, again pleased with the ranger’s reaction; she had to know what was coming, yet relaxed quickly enough and was clearly taking pleasure in the notion. That made the sellsword wonder how exactly the woman had suffered at the hands of the Northmen; they were known for their harsh brutality but still, to take a woman in such a fashion just using spit? Lukas had begun preparing her that way to continue his ruse, but had no intention of subjecting her to that level of hard use; some pain was one thing, but actual injury and bleeding? He wouldn’t do that to some camp follower whore or a prize taken after storming a city, much less a woman he had feelings for.

So Lukas just pressed down on the small of Jacelyn’s back as he once again told her “Don’t move,” then he turned and quickly picked up a green glass bottle of cooking oil still sitting beside the fire; Fissif had used it to fry some eggs in a skillet that morning, and left it behind when the Southerners departed. It wasn't quite the same as the scented oils he’d become acquainted with in the East thanks to Ilse, but would have to do and more importantly would be far better than spit alone.

The sellsword oiled up a finger, then pressed on Jacelyn’s back once again as he worked the digit into her. He went slowly, giving her time to adjust to the intrusion, but didn’t bother with repeating his advice; she was clearly enjoying herself and he trusted her mind was still working on some level despite her twitching body and throaty moans. Once his finger was fully inside her he just waited until her needy little bottom had stopped pulsing around it then slid it out – and promptly oiled up a second finger, so that he could repeated the entire process in a way that would open her up even more.

That taken care of Lukas withdrew his hand entirely, dropped his breeches and coated his hard shaft with still more of the viscous liquid. Then he placed his glans against the "other" hole between Jacelyn’s legs, grasped her full hips and … pushed the head of his cock into her tight little arse. He forced himself to stop right after that, as his thumbs massaged her back a little and he spoke to her in a voice that had finally become warmer; he knew that despite all his preparations and all her experience, and her … unusual tastes as well, what he had just done had to have hurt at least a little.

“Easy lass. Just keep breathing and try to let it pass. I know you can do this, and that you like it as well.” As he looked at the ranger’s shuddering body Lukas wondered if adding the last bit had been all that wise. While he knew what he’d said was true, he also knew that many women were ashamed of enjoying being taken this way, and wouldn’t admit it even to their lovers. Would Jacelyn say something to him in return, or just lie there like a docile little pleasure slave? Either way he was going to continue in a moment, but as her tight little ring of muscle spasmed around the tip of his shaft he thought it an interesting question to consider, if for no other reason than so that he could stay in control and not rip her shapely arse in half …
 
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Jacelyn wasn't truly restrained, but she remained in her bound position as Lukas probed her rear. She was almost afraid that if she moved, he might turn away from the path he'd set himself, and she'd be left empty and wanting. Knowing that struggling against him would only cause her discomfort, she relaxed completely and closed her eyes. His fingers provided pressure as they stretched her, an odd sensation, but neither were truly painful. She felt pulled taut in an unnatural way. He didn't belong there, and her body protested the invasion.

...Up until he shoved his well-oiled cock into her tight little hole.

She moaned lowly, not unlike a camp whore, and shuddered as his cock pushed his way past that tight barrier that snapped closed about his shaft once he'd cleared it. Unable to help herself, she pulled her head free of her shift (though left her arms tangled) and lifted her head to look back at him. He could see the crease of pain between her brows, but her expression also mirrored those he'd seen when she was in the throes of passion. She couldn't possibly deny that she was enjoying every inch of him, no matter how much he made her ache and twinge.
Though she didn't speak immediately, her body communicated to him quite well just how right he was in his assessment. She didn't scream or cry. She didn't squeal in dramatic fashion and push forward in a vain attempt to run from his cock. No, Jacelyn did quite the opposite. She pushed back against him, gripping the crate tightly as she angled her arched body toward him to drive him deeper. Each inch taken would be an excruciating challenge, but she lived for it.

Moaning again, she finally answered between gasped breaths. "I don't just like it, Master. I love it. Please... please give me more."

She would surely regret asking for more of his length, especially given how painful the next leg of their ride would be when ever jolt on horseback would make her twinge, but that pain would draw her thoughts to Lukas time again as she remembered their coupling with fondness.
 
Lukas wasn’t upset by Jacelyn working her head free of her shift, and his first thought was “I should have thought of that.” But as he gazed at her face his thoughts quickly became as … mixed as her features seemed to be.

Part of him loved seeing the ranger’s beautiful blue eyes again, as well as the ecstatic expression that was gripping her pretty features. But Lukas could also see creases of real pain surrounding those eyes, and his reaction to that was what gave him pause; a small, in every sense of the word, part of him actually enjoyed seeing her like that, and not because he knew the pain was bringing her pleasure, or because years of soldiering had made him callous about hurting other people. The last time he’d been with a woman like this it’d been Ilse he was taking, the same Ilse who’d stayed behind instead of coming with him when he fled Izantium. That had hurt him deeply and he knew he was now trying to somehow exorcise that pain by hurting Jacelyn, which was deeply unfair to the ranger no matter how you looked at it. He was just about to pull out of her, but suddenly she pushed back to take more of him within her and gasped out that she loved what he was doing and wanted more.

The thought of pulling out vanished in the blink of an eye and Lukas now found he was struggling to keep himself from losing all control, and just pounding into Jacelyn’s rear until she screamed and bled. But somehow he mastered himself, and instead began slowly working his shaft into her; he wasn’t exactly gentle, that was impossible, but at least he tried to give her body time to adjust to what he was doing for (or was it to?) her. And so his hips were finally pressed up against her cheeks, and his shaft throbbed within her tight little back channel.

Taking a few deep breathes to try and clear his head, Lukas held himself quite still as he spoke to Jacelyn. “So you love this, do you? And what exactly does that say about you? A camp whore would at least get paid for doing something like this.” Then before he knew it he was leaning forward, one strong arm propping himself up on the crate she was splayed over while the other reached around her slender torso. His fingers groped at her dangling breasts roughly but couldn’t gain any purchase because his fingers were still oily. So then he tried to pinch her nipples, but his fingertips were no better and it also came off as little more than a caress. Frustrated the sellsword finally used his fingertips to slap the side of one of her tits, but the angle was awkward and all he did was make them bounce and jiggle as the sensitive skin on their tops scraped against the rough wood of the crate.

Now starting to get truly angry, Lukas began to lean back so that he could properly rape Jacelyn’s arse – when he saw the scars covering her poor, poor back. “What am I doing?” suddenly flashed through the man's mind as he did; he’d become no better than a Northman. That one thought helped sober him, at least in some measure, and so he leaned forward again and let his digits trace down over the ranger’s lean stomach to find her sex. His oily fingers were gentle as they stroked her lower lips and brushed over the swollen bud at the top of her slit, and he began venting some of his feelings using words that he tried to control.

“I know your secret Jacelyn. That’s why you’re mine and always will be. You’re broken. Just admit it, to yourself as well as me. Sing for me, louder than you ever have, while my cock is up your arse.” His voice again sounded harsh, but somehow he kept his fingers gentle as they stroked between her legs. And when he started moving his hips he kept his strokes short too, even if he was indeed now fucking the ranger up her arse …

---

Off to one side, the entity swirled around the forgotten hammer using its senses to watch what the two creatures were doing. It had seen a lot in its time and become rather bored by most of it and most of them, but was actually interested in what was going on between these two, sublimely twisted examples of their race; in their own way they were both his kind of “people.” Well if anyone could, or would ever call it a “people;” that thought made it giggle even as it watched to see what happened next ...
 
He filled and stretched her, opening that passage wider than it had been in a long while. She'd almost forgotten what it was to be fucked properly. Lukas was doing a fine job of helping her to remember. Moaning again as he worked himself in deeper, body shivering involuntarily once he'd buried himself to the hilt, Jacelyn nearly forgot to breathe. Swallowing thickly, she rested her head upon her arms and once again made a conscious effort to relax.

His words, as harsh as they were, were all too true, and she accepted them as fact. That Lukas could see who she was within herself so easily only served to strengthen the bond between them. She'd known that she was broken long before, else she would have never agreed to his proposal. She was searching for something... someone... though she couldn't quite define exactly what she sought. The swordsman was strong, in body and in spirit, and had already showed himself to possess an immovable iron will. Perhaps that was what she needed... perhaps he had enough for the both of them.

The oil-slick fingers stroking her cunt made her thighs tremble. She rose up on her toes to chase that sensation, shifting slightly to press her sex against his hand even more. Her clit still pulsed, demanding, aching for attention, thrumming in time with her heartbeat. Swallowing her moans, she closed her eyes as he began to stroke, searching for words of response to his epiphany.

"I've been broken my entire life," she gasped out. "Broken beyond measure. Do you... do you have strength enough to mend me?"

Her head rose then as she glanced back at him once more, though her eyes no longer held any amount of pain or fear. She showed him nothing but hunger, the savage need of a wild thing that needed... begged to be tamed. That hunger was tempered only by the surge of hope swelling in her chest, a hope that Lukas would be the master she needed.
 
The sellsword halted in mid-stroke, stunned by Jacelyn’s reply. He could see she was no longer afraid or in physical pain, and could feel the latter too; her rump had relaxed as if she’d willed it, and was no longer clenching up to resist his unnatural intrusion. But still the expression on her face and her tone of voice, and the words she used gave him more than a little pause; this strong, smart, beautiful woman was pleading, no begging him to … do what exactly?

Lukas immediately knew what he wanted to say, without having to think about his reply for even a moment. But still he kept silent for a long, long time, staring at her, studying her, while he hesitated. It might have been because he was searching for some grand words to use in his reply, or perhaps because he’d once known another woman who’d seemed broken too, but in the end had the strength to turn away from him even as he held a hand out to her. Time crept along like an ant struggling back towards its hill and even the entity, which had existed for almost as long as time itself, began to grow impatient. Then the big warrior looked Jacelyn in the eyes, jaw clenched, and finally pried his teeth open to speak to her.

“Aye lass, I do. But only if you swear to follow me, stay with me, no matter what. I’ll take care of you, mend you, in time and in my own way. I promise.”

Those words said Lukas felt free to act on them immediately. His hands found the hem of her worn shift and then with a hard yank pulled the fabric off of Jacelyn’s arms, freeing her hands at last. Then those same hands settled onto the woman’s broad hips, grasped her firmly, and he began to stroke his cock into her rear once again.

“I want you to enjoy this Jace. There’s no shame in that, no matter what anyone might say. Because I know one of the reasons, the main reason, you’re enjoying yourself is that you trust me. But I need both my hands, so I can enjoy myself. So now you can finish what I started. And we can finish, together.”

And with that the sellsword’s swollen shaft began moving faster within the ranger’s bottom. As his strokes became deeper his fingers held onto her, pulling her back as he plunged into her roughly. She could hear his breathing deepen as his fingers tightened, and her whole body began to be rocked by the pounding he was giving her; his hips smacked into her cheeks with every thrust, even as his sack swayed into her mound and a ripple went through the toned muscles of her arse. Jacelyn began to be shoved into the crate she was bent over, and the stack of them started creaking as her full breasts bounced off the rough wood in time to the big warrior’s invasion of her body. And the whole time the rising sun, a warm breeze and the sounds of chirping birds surrounded them both ...

It didn’t take long for Lukas to feel the tingling start in his balls, and that only spurred him to pick up his pace. What had been rough turned primally savage, as he used the woman’s body in an unholy way to find his release. And then it suddenly was upon him, and he felt his sack pull up as he instinctively buried the head of his shaft as far as he could inside Jacelyn’s body; even if this act would never, could never, join them as parents he still wanted to sow his seed as deeply within her comely frame as possible.

As he reached his peak the sellsword’s hands clamped down on the ranger’s hips as a wave of sublime pleasure washed through him, sweeping away all the tension and stress and fear of the previous night's fight with it. A rictus grin gripped his features as his muscles froze into a copy of the statues he’d seen in Athenia, and he stood like that for long moments as his cock swelled up just a bit more and he emptied himself into her, groaning loudly and long.

But all too soon the big warrior’s moment of peace passed and he suddenly felt weak, and so leaned forward to rest his sweaty forehead on the beautiful woman’s poor, scarred back …

“Gods forgive me” was the one thing he kept thinking, over and over, as he struggled to regain his breath and eyesight …

---

Off to the side the entity looked on with a certain degree of … admiration perhaps? Then it began to do something it had learned was called a “slow clap” by some of these creatures, somewhere or another in the multiverse.

“Well done little person, well done indeed. But I’m not some little godling, so we’ll have to see about the forgiveness ..."
 
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It was the pounding she needed. The pounding she felt she deserved. A punishment, in some fashion, though for what sins? She couldn't remember just then. She only knew that she didn't want him to stop the rough fucking that plowed her into the crate over again. The wood beneath her groaned in sympathy, but she was beyond groaning. She screamed. Each of his forceful thrusts drawing the cry from her throat as his hips slammed against her rear. He buried himself to the fullest each time, making her twinge with pleasurable pain, but the sharpness of his cock stretching her faded to a sullen throb that couldn't compete with the intense pressure building within her greedy cunt that begged for attention.

While her ass pulled and squeezed him tighter than her pussy ever could, she slid a hand down her body to find her sopping mound. Her fingers curled within the course hairs and tugged, the additional pain heightening her desire. One of her fingers finally slid between her lower lips and began to stroke in counter to his push. Each time her hips surged forward from the impact of his cock ramming inside her, she stroked herself until she could feel her own orgasm rising. Her fingers plunged into her depths, pumping, fucking that sloppy hole with wet sucking noises. Her palm ground against her pulsing clit, also stroking it, and the combination soon drove her mad.

Anyone venturing into the clearing would be shocked (or perhaps aroused) by the scene of the naked ranger enjoying being used. Her arms were free, she could fight back any time she wished, but Jacelyn had no intention of fighting him. Not even pain or punishment would set her against the master she'd chosen. Mathis might be her owner and the holder of her contract, but Lukas was her Master. There was a clear distinction in her mind, and it was then that she decided if Mathis would not honor his word, she'd risk imprisonment or execution and simply run away with Lukas to some foreign land where they could never be found. The woman that hurt him should have been flayed alive.

Jacelyn's free hand scrabbled against the wood beneath her, fighting for purchase as his pace increased. She could tell he was edging closer, and that only spurred on her own actions even more. Her sticky, slick fingers slid from her depths to focus solely on the sensitive little nub that demanded most of her attention. She stroked it faster, moaning and whimpering as she struggled to reach her peak at the same time as Lukas, feeling that maddening sensation hovering just out of reach.

At last, she found it, and his groaning climax rose as her body suddenly seized with his grasp. She howled her own joys as her body exploded from within and her cunt clamped down on nothing. Her ass tightened, squeezing him dangerously as she lost complete control. The seas roared, crashing through her, and she squeezed her eyes closed to better feel them spilling over. Then the blinding whiteness at last passed, and she collapsed against the crate, cheek pressed against the rough wood and arms resting limply on either side of her head. She lay there beneath his familiar weight, panting for breath as her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"I swear," she gasped out. "I promise..."
 
After a time Lukas’ breathing returned to normal, and his eyes and mind started working again. The man’s first thought after returning from his petite mort was how nice the day was probably going to be, since the sun was now shining and the air felt warm; even the insects around the mine clearing seemed to be enjoying the weather, at least if all the noise they were making was any indication. Then Lukas heard Paulus snort, and suddenly realized he and Jacelyn had been all but defenseless as they had coupled … well, all but defenseless except for the watchful eyes of a horse trained for war, who could cave a man’s ribs in with a single kick. And that thought made the sellsword wonder what he was doing to the slender ranger’s ribs as he lay heavily atop her, so he propped himself up on his tired arms so that she could again breathe unhindered.

After a few moments more Lukas sadly stepped back, pulling his soft shaft from the woman’s rear as he did; it slid free from her gaping hole quite easily and left a trail of his seed dripping from her. After shuffling towards the cook fire the man then used a rag and some still warm water to clean himself off, before tossing the cloth in the fire’s embers and pulling up his breeches. Then he dampened another rag and squatted behind Jacleyn, so that he could use the cloth to clean her; there was quite a bit to attend to given all the oil he’d used, the womanly juices that had coated her sex and inner thighs, and the seed that still slowly oozed from her unnaturally opened bottom. Once he’d tidied her up as best he could he pressed another rag between her cheeks as he helped her stand upright and then quickly pulled up her breeches; his hope was that half measure would suffice until she could clean herself further however she liked and then don her small clothes for the day. After that he reached around her slender waist, tied the string that held her breeches above her hips and then gingerly helped the topless woman to turn in place.

Lukas’ eyes couldn’t help but stray down to take in Jacelyn’s full breasts as she turned, but he quickly refocused on her beautiful blue eyes and face to see how she was faring. As he looked at her she could see him as well, and it was easy enough for the woman to see the concern on his face. But his serious expression also seemed much softer than before, as if all the stress that had been gripping his face had evaporated, and his voice – while still trying to sound stern – was even lighter than when he had tried that ruse before.

“Well now lass. Hopefully we have all that confusion sorted out now.” She could see he was trying to pull himself together and sound serious. “You may show affection, kiss me whenever you like.” He paused for a moment, and a note of steel accompanied what he said next. “But only if you’re willing to accept the consequences of acting so boldly with your Master;” she could see the crooked grin trying to break free on the sellsword’s mouth, but somehow he mastered it – barely. Then he reached over, picked up her discarded shift and pressed it into her fine hands.

“Now put this on, instead of prancing about our campsite like some houri trying to distract me; if I’m not mistaken we have some leagues to ride today if we’re to find this Lord Aldrich … and I expect one of us will be riding a little more gingerly in the saddle than usual. So let’s just concentrate on trying to get ready, shall we?”

And with that Lukas turned his back on Jacelyn to stalk off and go don his armor and weapons. As he walked away a huge smile finally broke out over the sellsword's face, while the entity just “rolled” its many eyes as it looked on and Paulus snorted once again before he crapped mightily onto the dirt behind him …
 
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Jacelyn had never had a master clean her up after being fucked, especially not with Lukas' genuine concern and tenderness. The wet rag felt soothing against her throbbing bottom that still pulsed from being invaded. She lay limply against the crate and sighed as he tended to the mess, completely content to let him care for her. It told her more about him that she could ever learn through conversation. It also cemented the fact in her heart that she'd made the right decision. If she was to have a master to use her as she wanted desperately to be used, and to take away the burden of responsibility that she wasn't sure how to bear when not alone, then she could have no better Master than Lukas. Mathis would likely not understand, but she didn't think he'd protest if they brought Isolde back to him safe and sound. Jacelyn would have her freedom, money to make her way, and could travel with Lukas to any place he desired.

They just had to find the girl first.

Though somewhat set to rights, Jacelyn had her own preparations to make before they left. She watched Lukas as he walked back into the camp to collect his things, a bemused smile playing at her lips. At his warning, she almost wanted to kiss him so boldly again, but knew that her body couldn't take another rough fuck so soon. Not to mention, they were wasting daylight and travel time. The faster they were on their way, the sooner they could find Isolde. Her only hope was that the girl hadn't yet been broken like her maid had been.

Retreating to the wood, she saw to the necessities, wincing as she was required to squat. Riding was going to be a challenge. She'd need a warm bath by the time they reached the next town or village. Wetting the rag again in camp, she placed it gingerly where it could do the most good before she began to dress. With her shift and breeches on properly, she pulled on her tunic and then her leather armor, bucking and belting the straps until everything was seated comfortably without biting into her skin.

Her sword and scabbard hung from the saddle after she'd readied her mare, and her bow was strung across her body where she could easily retrieve it if needed. After breakfast, she was ready to depart, though not without some hesitation. Sitting on the horse wasn't terrible, but as soon as the mare began to move, Jacelyn felt every little jolt. She added extra padding to her seat, which helped a little, though sitting on one cheek was ultimately her best tactic. She switched sides as they rode, giving her poor bottom as much relief as she could.

"I am curious, what is our next course of action?" she finally asked after they'd been traveling in companionable silence for a while. "We travel to the noble house of Aldrich to learn if they're somehow involved, but how do you intend to approach them?"
 
Out of habit Lukas glanced over his shoulder periodically as they rode along; the only thing moving behind them was smoke rising into the sky from one of the old huts that had been in the clearing fronting the mine. Before the Southerners had left Lukas had them pile the corpses of their fallen foes inside, then the sellsword had put the place to the torch just before he and Jacelyn rode off; he'd thought there was no need to spoil everyone’s morning meal with the lovely smell of roasting human flesh. The sellsword knew it was more than the dead men deserved, but just because they’d been degenerates didn’t mean he had to be one as well; to leave their mortal remains for wild animals to feast on would have been unholy, and burning was the quickest way to properly dispose of them. He idly wondered if the gods had already passed judgment on the dead men for their deeds in life, and if their souls were burning now too …

The sellsword caught Jacelyn shifting in her saddle once again, but he held his peace about that and tried not to grin; he knew she had her pride about some things and didn’t want to add insult to injury by making light of her discomfort. Which made him wonder if she now regretted giving him the impetuous kiss that had resulted in him taking her as he had. Given how much she’d seemed to have enjoyed his rough handling it was hard for him to tell one way or another; perhaps it was just the timing of when he’d taken her that way, not how. Truth be told he regretted the timing a little himself, since it’d cost them precious daylight even if Jacelyn was now riding along as well as any soldier with a boil on his bottom – though her bottom was a sight more comely than any hairy soldier’s arse he’d ever seen in his years of campaigning. That thought did make him grin ...

After the ranger sorted out how to make the best of her situation she finally broke their silence by asking him a few questions he’d been pondering since the previous evening. Lukas scratched at his beard as he gathered his thoughts, then turned and looked into Jacelyn’s blue eyes as he rambled on in reply; if nothing else him thinking aloud might help them decide on what to do next, and also take her mind off of every pebble that her mare trod upon.

“Well lass, those are good questions. To start with, we should probably consider the possibility that this Lord Aldrich was the one behind Balan and Isolde’s kidnapping. Do you know if there was any bad blood between him and Balan, or your Lord Mathis?” He paused for a moment before he continued. “But even if there was, I rather doubt Aldrich was directly involved in what was going on at the mine. Whoever was in charge there was quite careful to leave no trace of who they were working for, other than those crate lids; only a complete idiot would have overlooked those.” The big warrior grinned. “Which is not to say I haven’t met any blue blooded idiots, just that it seems unlikely to me in this case. Still …” He thought for a second. “If we do end up speaking to Aldrich, or his steward or someone else in his household, it’s probably best we make it clear that word of what we found at the mine has already been sent to Mathis; I think that’ll give us some insurance against us simply disappearing mysteriously one night.”

After taking a swig of water the sellsword went on. “On the other hand Aldrich may know nothing whatsoever that can help us; his crates being there were just a coincidence. If so we’re back to the start of our trail.” Lukas didn’t want to dwell on that possibility, since finding Isolde was now just as important to him as it was to the woman he was riding beside. “But the gods haven’t forsaken us so far, so I’m hopeful that won’t be the case.” He tried to give her an encouraging smile. “We’ll find her lass.”

After riding on a bit further Lukas spoke back up. “Which leaves us with what I think is the most likely possibility; that Aldrich or someone in his household might know something about how those crates got to where they were, which’ll point us in the right direction. So after protecting ourselves, the trick is going to be finding that something and getting a hold of it one way or another. Invoking Mathis’ name should get us in the door and an initial audience, but beyond that? It might be the gift of gab, or coins changing hand, or some skullduggery that’s called for.” Lukas grinned. “Maybe you’ll be able to just bat your eyelashes at Aldrich’s steward, and he’ll open up his books to tell us everything we want to know.” The sellsword’s grin broadened considerably. “Or perhaps Aldrich’s buxom daughter is secretly fond of rugged soldiers, and will be more than happy to help one with his important mission in return for … a poem perhaps.” Lukas laughed at that.

“But seriously lass, I think we’ll just have to play this one by ear, unless you know more about Aldrich than you’ve mentioned so far. We can ask around wherever his seat is I suppose, but unless you know some folk you trust thereabouts, I imagine all that’ll get us is the usual village gossip. So boldly into the lion’s den is probably our best bet, using Mathis’ name as our ticket in and our shield against a quick demise. And then we kick over the hornets’ nest – which makes no sense because we’ll be in a lion’s den but I think you get my point – and see what happens.” The crooked grin was back on the sellsword’s face as he finished up.

“Sound like a plan lass?”

---

The entity listened to the man talk and was fascinated. It already knew he was a bold creature, and so far had seemed to be in his right mind for the most part. But this ‘plan’ of his? On the face of it, it verged on madness. But then the entity paused, as it recalled that some said the gods in this place looked after drunks and fools. It knew most of the godlings now slumbered here, though one might still be awake if the strange creature this pair had stumbled upon near the cemetery was any indication. Perhaps there were others? The entity hadn’t sensed anything of the sort so far, though it really hadn’t been paying much attention. And despite his calling this man seemed to be oddly respectful of ‘the gods’ in his own way, even if his understanding of them was as woefully ignorant as all the rest. Curious indeed …
 
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Jacelyn shook her head absently. "I only know Lord Aldrich by reputation. He and Mathis have had long dealings for arms and an exchange of goods, but I know nothing of what association he may have had with Lord Balan. If he's behind the disappearance, it could be Mathis that he's targeting rather than Balan. It seems rather foolish to leave crates with your own house seal in the company of the brigands we dispatched last night, but finer men have been just as daft. I think we should be cautious when we arrive and give them as little information as we can until we assess his household. Informing them of our quest will gain us food and drink and a bed to sleep, but accusations would negate those, surely. It will be a delicate dance for certain."

She considered as they rode, eventually falling silent on the subject as the journey claimed most of her attention. The initial part of their trip was through a heavily wooded area upon the gentler slopes at the foothills of the mountains. Jacelyn kept to established game trails to ease the way, though they did have to blaze their own path quite often, contending with low hanging limbs from ancient pines and thick brush. The few times they halted were only for brief rests to relieve themselves and (more importantly) to give Jacelyn's tender ass a much needed break. She didn't complain of the pain, however, and was eager to push onward after those short rests. More than once during their travels, they startled small game in the area, and the ranger was quick with her bow. Striking more than she missed, she brought down two quail and three fat hares. She desired a deer, but their horses made far too much noise for stalking.

Late in the afternoon, they struck the main road that ran to the north and east. A short time later, the trees began to thin and gave way to cultivated land. They passed several thriving farmsteads, likely tenants of Aldrich, and both the people and crop seemed to be thriving. They also saw an increase in armed patrols upon the main road, but the soldiers were friendly enough, well fed, and didn't seem interested in detaining common travelers for longer than it took to answer a few simple questions. As she had with the mason, Jacelyn deferred to Lukas during those interactions, letting him speak for them both. The swordsman's large size and intimidating appearance worked in their favor, for which she was exceedingly thankful. Even though her armor minimized her femininity, she knew they would have treated her far differently if she'd been traveling alone.

The homesteads increased in number, signaling that the main estate was likely near, and indeed entered a small village shortly after sunset. The townfolk called it Eastmond, named for Aldrich's estate, and were friendly enough when asked for directions. They were pointed in the direction of the manor and soon found themselves standing before a tall wall and stout gate, which was guarded by several well-armed men.

"State yer business!" one of them called out.
 
Lukas was polite and informative enough with the guards, and after only a short delay he and Jacelyn were allowed entry onto the grounds of Lord Aldrich’s fortified manor. After Paulus and the ranger’s mare were taken by stablehands, the ranger and sellsword were then escorted into the main house by some functionary and settled into a comfortable sitting room just off the main entrance. Lukas could see that the two guards who’d followed them posted by the door after the functionary left, but that was normal enough and they’d been provided with refreshment, so he just had some wine while he looked out at the carefully tended grounds from the room’s broad windows.

A quarter candlemark later a rather nondescript man of middling years entered the room. He had bright eyes, thinning hair and the only mark of distinction about him was a rather ornate silver headed walking stick that he seemed to use for some support. As one of the guards moved to follow the man into the room he shooed the guard away. “No, that’s alright, wait outside.” Then the man turned to look over Jacelyn and Lukas, and took note of the wineglass in the big warrior’s hand. “Ah, good, they’ve already provided you with some drink.” The man’s voice was firm as he settled into a chair and he waved the two to sit across from him. “I’m Prestwick, Master of Lord Aldrich’s household. My Lord is away at the moment, so you shall have to deal with me I’m afraid. So as I understand it, you represent Lord Mathis; please indulge me, what’s this all about?”

Lukas continued on from the limited amount of information he’d provided the guards, telling Prestwick their tale truly enough but also … choosing his words carefully and … altering things slightly at the end, in keeping with Jacelyn’s advice and wishes. “Since all we had to go on after all that was what we had heard one of the brigands say during our scouting of the mine – the mention of ‘Eastmond’ – Mistress Jacelyn and I elected to continue on this way while my company escorted the rescued maid and our prisoners back to Lord Mathis’ estate. Hopefully the maid will regain her senses, or the prisoners will say more when put to the question, and we’ll have more to go on when my men rejoin me. But until then we were hoping Lord Aldrich might be able to aid us in our mission.”

Prestwick had listened to the big sellsword quite carefully and asked him several questions along the way, which Lukas had seemed to answer smoothly enough. Then came another one. “I don’t believe you’ve mentioned the name of your company?”

“The Gryphon’s Talon. Most of our work in these parts has been for a trader in Sinclaire named Constantine; he can vouch for us if you’re interested, as he did to Lord Mathis.”

“I see” was Prestwick’s reply. After a few moments consideration the Master of the House went on. “Nasty business all this, very nasty. But the simple mention of Eastmond is not really much to go on; you do know that's what the village is also called, yes?” After another moment he continued. “Let me speak to someone about this. It won’t take long, and I’ll have more refreshment sent to you while you wait here.” The man nodded politely to the ranger and sellsword as he stood and departed. “Mistress Jacelyn, Captain Lukas …”

As a guard closed the door behind Prestwick, Lukas heard Mikael’s voice speaking to him with amusement. “Well done effendi. It seems you did learn a thing or two when you were living in a more civilized land after all.” The sellsword snorted at that thought, then turned and shrugged at Jacelyn as if to say “Your guess is as good as mine lass, we’ll see what comes of this.” Then he poured himself a little more wine …

---

Before further refreshment could be delivered two newcomers entered the sitting room, a man and a woman, both finely dressed and perhaps two score years of age. The man was as tall as Lukas and though not as broad shouldered, seemed healthy and fit in a somewhat pampered way. His strong, pleasant features were clean shaven and his short, curly blond hair was matched by a pair of eyes that were not quite as blue as Jacelyn’s. His companion was slightly shorter than the ranger and seemingly a bit more shapely, again in a way that spoke of healthy eating and plenty of time for active amusement instead of a life of hard labor. Her lovely face, shoulder length curls and bright gaze made it obvious she and the man were somehow related. Jacelyn’s honed senses could also detect the scent of expensive perfume and cologne wafting into the room with the pair.

As the woman moved towards the sideboard of refreshments and seemingly began to rearrange them idly, the man bowed slightly to both the ranger and Lukas. “Captain, Mistress Jacelyn, I’m Eric Aldrich.” Then he tilted his head back towards the woman slightly. “And this is my sister Erica.” As he settled into a wingchair the man went on smoothly. “Prestwick told me of your plight, and in my father’s absence I thought it best for me to hear your tale myself …”

---

Lukas told Eric Aldrich the exact same story he’d just related to Prestwick; as the sellsword spoke the young nobleman seemed to listen closely, asking no questions, while his sister appeared to be disinterested, moving from the sideboard to a shelf of knickknacks which she toyed with. When Lukas had finished Eric sat back with a somewhat amazed expression on his face and said “How extraordinary; the idea that someone would actually lay hands on Lord Balan.” Then he turned towards Erica. “Sister dear, what do you think?”

The noblewoman looked up from the glass ornament she’d been examining. “I may have met Isolde once. As I recall, she was a lovely girl.” Erica’s browed furrowed slightly, as if she was thinking. “I suppose Prestwick could look into this; he’s awfully clever and always seems to know everything.” Her brows furrowed even more. “But that’s going to take time, isn’t it? Still, I imagine we could think of … something to help pass the time while he does … whatever it is he does.”

Eric looked … interested. “Do you have something in mind sister?”

Erica thought some more. “Well, perhaps Captain Lukas and Mistress Jacelyn are as interested in … history, as you are brother? That would certainly help pass the time in this dreary place.”

A quick look of surprise flashed over Eric’s face before being replaced by a slight smile. “Ah yes, what a marvelous idea.” Then he turned back to speak to Lukas. “I’ll of course have Prestwick look into all this for you, though as my sister mentioned I can’t imagine he’ll be able to get started before tomorrow morning at the earliest; my father’s holdings are rather extensive. So for the nonce, perhaps you’d care to pass the time by indulging my interest in history, Imperial history to be exact.” Eric smiled smoothly. “I’m sure you’re familiar with some of the Empire’s military classics Captain, but do you know what a bacchanalia is?”

---

Jacelyn had been with Lukas long enough to know his mood darkened when the two nobles entered the room; the sellsword’s eyes squinted ever so slightly, and his jaw and neck muscles began to tighten. That only got worse when Eric and Erica began to banter with each other; Jacelyn could almost hear Lukas’ molars grinding against each other at that point. So his reaction to Eric’s question might have surprised her – the sellsword sat back and smiled. He’d indeed been forced to read copies of all the Empire’s military classics while being raised in the monastery – and had read them all again in Izantium, at Mikael’s urging. The second time round he’d actually paid attention, spending many an evening discussing their contents with his brother. But he’d learned more than how to make war while in the East, which was why he was now smiling.

“Indeed I do. I’ve worked in the South quite a bit.” The sellsword sipped some wine. “Some of the Nobles class there, who try to keep to the old Imperial ways, still hold them.” He had a little more wine and then his smile broadened. “They were … interesting, though not quite as … grand as the ones I experienced in Izantium.” He put his glass down and sat back, satisfied – that had to have taken the wind out of this blue blood’s sails. “Why do you ask?”

Jacelyn could see Eric was now nonplussed – but that Erica was looking directly at Lukas, her eyes bright. So when the nobleman recovered quickly and looked over towards his sister, she simply tilted her head slightlly and Eric’s voice was once again smooth as he replied. “Ah, I see. I didn’t realize you were so widely traveled. Well then, while it might not be the same as Izantium, could I interest you and Mistress Jacelyn in joining my sister and I for some … revelry this evening? While we all wait for our man Prestwick to work his magic?”

Jacelyn could see Lukas’ jaw twitching as he stared back at the nobleman. “That’s a very generous offer. But all we have is our travelling clothes …” At that Erica chimed in brightly. “Oh don’t worry about that. We have spare costumes that I expect will fit you both nicely.” The two nobles looked at Lukas and waited for his reply.

“Well then, that all sounds more than generous to me.” The sellsword turned to look at Jacelyn, as did the others in the room. Lukas’ expression was as neutral as could be, not really pressing the ranger to reply in any particular fashion. But the other two, who heretofore had largely ignored Jacelyn, were now looking at the ranger as closely as could be, Eric openly running his eyes over Jacelyn’s form and Erica coolly appraising the other woman as only one could do to another.

Lukas’ voice was as flat as his expression. “What do you think Jacelyn?”
 
During Lukas' explanation, Jacelyn was content to let him take the lead as she had previously. The ranger was quite good at fading into the forest, but her skills also helped her to remain unnoticed in a more urban setting. She didn't quite disappear, but she was the sort of person that no one would initially pay much attention to, especially in her gender-muting armor. Especially when Lukas' large frame and intimidating stature distracted from her entirely. So she listened to the words that the swordsman chose so carefully and gauged the reactions of both the steward and the nobles while he spoke. If any of them knew of the arms shipments, they were keeping their emotions well in check, she decided. There was something she didn't entirely trust about any of them, and was glad that Lukas had the notion to mention the information they'd gained and how it'd been passed on to others. They were both lowly born, but someone would come looking for them if anything untoward happened. It was a solid story, in her opinion, and intended to tell Lukas exactly that once they were alone.

She hadn't expected to be suddenly thrust into the spotlight, however, as they all looked to her for an answer. She didn't quite shrink beneath the weight of their gaze, but she did take a moment to consider the question that'd been posed. Lukas' expression told her nothing. She almost wished they'd worked out some sort of signal beforehand that they could give one another in times just like this. What did he want her to say? Surely they'd learn more of the crates if they stayed. But then, they'd also be at the mercy of the nobility and whatever that entailed.

She had absolutely no idea what a 'bacchanalia' might be, but a revelry she could well imagine. With food and wine flowing, perhaps someone's tongue might loosen enough to tell them what they wished to know. They'd gain nothing by staying in the village, she decided. Better to take a chance and see how it played out.

"I'm not opposed to the offer if it means the promise of a bath, a good meal, and a real bed for the night. We're rather road weary and would enjoy the opportunity to rest in something other than a drafty barn," she finally stated.

---

A short while later the two of them had been escorted to the main house by the noble siblings and then left in the hands of servants. The manor home was an impressive structure made from stone from the very land they stood upon, carted from miles around to build into a solid walls, turrets, and towers. Of course, it was nothing when compared to the vast fortresses, castles, and places of the southern lands, but then it hadn't been built to be a primary defense against invaders. Rather, it'd been crafted into something more stately than something typically found in the village, and was far larger than any such estate they'd passed along their journey. Lord Balan's estate was vast when compared to Mathis' holdings. Lord Aldrich's lands dwarfed Balan's by a least triple. While only a minor Lordling in the region, it was clear he had both money and influence.

Their rooms were not within one of the main wings, nor close to the familiar residence. While they'd not exactly been housed in the servant's quarters, the questing pair were given rooms on the floor below, likely meant for the stay of village officials, clergy, or other sorts that didn't fall into the strict social structure. That wasn't to say that their rooms weren't large, however. They were enormous, by Jacelyn's standards. They'd been housed in adjacent rooms that were nearly identical in layout, but decorated in differing styles. Jacelyn's room featured water themes in blues and greens, while Lukas' scheme were browns, russet, and deep golds. The large windows overlooked the lands to the north, rather than the village, but they could also see other rooms where additional wings had been added to the original structure overtime. Every window was ablaze with light as the servants prepared for dinner, the festivities, and whatever nightly chores kept them busy.

Once they'd been left alone with a steaming bath in each of their rooms and the promise of fresh clothing to be delivered shortly, Jacelyn waited a few heartbeats for the servants to exit the hall before slipping out of her room. She ducked into the door next to her own in search of Lukas, her expression somewhat bewildered.

"Was this... what you expected? I received the distinct impression from the maid that she was going to be returning with a dress for me - something worthy of a noble's party. A dress. I haven't worn a dress in ages."
 
Lukas was fuming when Jacelyn entered his room and almost snapped her head off when she spoke to him. But the big warrior somehow was able to hold his tongue at the last minute, and instead pressed his palms against his face and then ran his fingertips down to his chin. After that the sellsword pressed those big palms against each other for a moment so it seemed at first that he was praying, at least until the ranger saw all the muscles of the man’s forearms bunching up beneath his skin. Then Lukas slowly exhaled, and finally replied to Jacelyn in a voice that was more than a little regretful.

“I don’t think it’s a dress they’re expecting you to wear lass.” He just looked at her for a few long seconds. “Don’t worry about it now though. I imagine you have a hot bath waiting for you in your room as well, so I want you to go back and climb into it. Wash and relax, perhaps have a glass of wine as you do.” A small, crooked smile appeared on his scarred lips for a moment. “Ease the aches from your body after a hard day in the saddle. Take your time; we’re in no rush for these people.” His visage turned serious once more. “And as you do, I want you to focus on just three things. We are going to find Isolde. You are going to be free. And we are going to be together.” He paused and glanced over to where his hammer was leaning against a wall. “By hook or by crook, one way or another, we’ll discover what we need to know here.” Something from his days in the monastery popped into his head, old words in the Imperial tongue. “Inveniam viam aut faciam” he said out loud. When he thought he noticed a perplexed look on Jacelyn’s beautiful face he went on. “It’s something a general of old Carthago once said. His name was Hanni-barca, and he terrorized the Imperials for years after somehow bringing olyfaunts with his army over the Great Mountains into the Imperial heartland.” He thought for moment, wanting to get the translation just right after all this time. “It means I shall either find a way, or make one.” Lukas looked at Jacelyn sadly, kissed her softly on the lips and then squeezed both her shoulders. “Now go take your bath lass” – it was the gentlest command he ever gave her.

---

After Jacelyn left Lukas thought about the rest of the history story. The Imperials were starting to turn into decadent fops by the time of Hanni-barca’s invasion, but some of them still knew how to fight and in the end Carthago lost, in part because of what someone else had said, a declaration by an Imperial Senator intended to rally his people: “Carthago delenda est” – “Carthage must be destroyed.” And destroyed Carthago eventually was, its walls and buildings razed, all its people enslaved and its lands salted so as to lay fallow for generations; the Imperials made certain it was as if the place had never existed. The sellsword always thought of that when he heard some pampered philosopher droning on about how winning wars never really accomplished anything. Tell that to the people of Carthago, if you can find a single one of them today…

---

The entity also thought back to the era of “Carthago” and its great rivalry with the “Imperials” in this place – those had been good times. The Imperials’ short swords had worked slowly but surely, and it had enjoyed a steady diet of souls as they’d conquered their known world, on foot, one slow mile at a time – and then lost it all slowly, one long day at a time. Good times indeed, but things were much quieter now. Still, that didn’t bother the entity all that much, since it knew well that these things tended to go in cycles. So instead of moping around, its essence wafted from the hammer to see what these silly creatures might be up to next …

---

Just as Jacelyn finished her bath Lukas knocked and then entered her room. It looked as if the mercenary had bathed quickly since his hair and beard were still slightly damp, but that wasn’t the only thing about the sellsword that now looked different. He was wearing a sleeveless white wool tunic only long enough to cover his upper thighs, which was belted at his waist with a simple golden cord; the garment looked like it had been cut for Eric Aldrich since it was tight across the sellsword’s shoulders and chest, and the deep V-neck revealed exactly how hirsute the man was. The only other thing Lukas seemed to be wearing was a pair of flat, open sandals made of gold dyed leather, which featured short straps that snugly wrapped around his thick ankles. The entire ensemble, such as it was, did indeed give the man a vaguely Imperial air, though not a particularly formal one since it really was quite minimal. He looked at Jacelyn flatly and then held up the items he had in his hands so that she could see them in her bath.

“I took your things from the maid who brought me mine.” The sellsword first lifted a small basket. “Paints, powders and the like, along with some ribbons and bows, a brush and a looking glass.” Lukas put the basket down and then held up what was in his other hand. “And this is what they expect you to wear.”

The outfit the sellsword presented was in some ways similar to his, but Jacelyn could immediately see the differences as well. Her white tunic would cover only one of her shoulders, and was made of some diaphanous material that would almost certainly be semitransparent in bright light. And her gold sandals, which were much more delicate than his, also featured slender laces that would reach higher on her ankles and the low, blocky heels that highborn women in Gyptos and the Empire had favored, and were now all the rage among some Western noblewomen who could afford them. All in all the clothes provided for the ranger were just as minimal and informal as his were and would definitely also give her a faux Imperial appearance, albeit one that would be as alluring as it was scandalous.

After Lukas placed the garments beside the basket he continued speaking, and as he did Jacelyn could again see the man’s jaw and neck tightening. “They think us country bumpkins, do they? A couple of bored, blue-blood children from some backwater fief in the hills.” It wasn’t exactly clear who the sellsword was speaking to or about at that point. Then he looked directly at Jaceylyn. “After you’re finished drying your hair and doing whatever else, get your bag with my gifts to you – your collar, cuffs and all the rest – before you put your dress on. We’ll show these two who the country bumpkins really are.” Then the sellsword turned away to give Jacelyn some privacy as she exited her bath, and slowly sipped some of the wine that’d been left in her room while he quietly fumed …
 
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Though Jacelyn was still utterly perplexed, both by Lukas' irritation as well as what they'd be facing at the party, she did as he instructed and returned to her rooms to bathe. The private bath was a rare luxury and most welcome after their long day of travel. She took the opportunity to clean herself fully, scrubbing every part of herself and unbraiding her hair to wash it. The heat felt especially good on her sore rear, which had suffered during the ride, but the warmth helped to ease that particular ache.

She was nearly finished when Lukas joined her, sitting upright in the bath to twist the water from her hair. Pausing as he presented her new clothing, the ranger's jaw dropped. "I'm to wear that?" She studied his own clothing, which looked odd to her. The tunic was short, but his costume was at least opaque enough to cover his entire body. Everyone would be able to see everything she had to offer. She flushed slightly, though with anger rather than embarrassment. If Isolde's life hadn't been on the line, she would have dressed in her regular clothing and marched right out of the manor. Unfortunately, she couldn't be so brash. Lives were on the line. Being nearly naked in a room full of people wasn't all that different from what she'd experienced as a slave.

Dripping from her bath, she rose and stepped out into a towel, drying her skin and hair as best she could. With the towel wrapped about her to keep off the chill, she collected the basket that he'd brought and took it to the dressing table to unpack the offerings. Several items she dismissed as too gaudy and ridiculous, but she did select several bottles that she thought acceptable. After rolling her hair up along the sides, she wove the ribbon through it as she began to braid it in a loose plait that hung over one shoulder. A thin silver band crossed her forehead and secured her curls in the back.

She did not powder her face, but added a bit of rouge to her cheeks and lips, and lined her eyes with kohl. She also added a splash of rose water to her skin, which smelled light and delicate. When she finally examined her look in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. Her blue eyes seemed more brilliant against the black liner. Her complexion was still quite natural and unspoiled, but was now subtly enhanced.

Joining the sellsword with her bag of gear in hand, she offered it to Lukas. As she didn't know what he'd want her to wear, she'd ignored the jewelry sent by the nobility. All she wore was the slender chain that Lukas had given her.

"I still do not understand. Why are we dressed in this manner? Why do you wish me to bring my collar and cuffs?"
 
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Despite his dark mood Lukas couldn’t help but smile as he turned and looked at Jacelyn. He wanted to kiss her, but thought it best not to given the care she’d taken with her appearance. So instead he took her hands in his and gazed happily at her for several moments; “You are absolutely beautiful” was what he said. Finally though, the sellsword answered Jacelyn’s questions as he still held her fingers in his.

“They seek to toy with us lass. Make us play their little games, as the price for their help.” Lukas tilted his head; his voice had become oddly flat. “So play games we shall. By seizing the initiative.” He smiled his crooked smile as he gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “We are going to make an entrance they will never forget.”

---

Lukas opened the bag Jacelyn had brought him, then removed the bathing towel from around her and tossed it aside. The big warrior smiled once more at the sight of the ranger’s nude form and after a moment gently cupped one of her full breasts from below, dipped his head and began softly kissing, licking and suckling on one of her sensitive nipples. Once he had gotten that bud plumped up nicely Lukas reached into the bag, pulled out the little set of clips connected by a chain and carefully fastened one end onto Jacelyn’s body. After making sure the clip was secure the sellsword then repeated that whole process with the ranger’s other lovely breast, and finally took a step back to look at the delicate chain now curving down from her bosom. “Excellent. Now let’s get your tunic on.”

Once Lukas had helped Jacelyn get the flimsy garment on without dislodging the clips he looked at her once again. Her swollen nipples were clearly visible through the sheer fabric and even better so was the chain, which definitely altered how the tunic hung from her chest. “Perfect. Now let’s check the rest of you.” The sellsword knelt and shifted Jacelyn’s womanly hips back and worth so he could examine her from the waist down; the curls above her mound were visible as a dark shadow where her legs joined, but the rest of her sex really couldn’t be seen, at least while the ranger was standing. “All right then, we’ll just leave your other clip in the bag.” Then Lukas stood and turned Jacelyn by her shoulders so he could view her from the rear. The curves and cleft of her shapely backside could also be discerned through her tunic, but more importantly so could the scars on her poor back, to particularly include one that was not covered at all; this time he didn’t stop himself, and leaned forward to kiss that scar before he stepped back. “Alright lass, go ahead and put on your little belt and shoes, then we’ll sort out the rest.”

---

After Jacelyn had finished dressing Lukas took her collar, buckled it around her slender neck and then slipped her cuffs onto her wrists. “No need for the locks tonight I think” he added, just before he clipped the two cuffs together in front of the ranger. Then he picked up her leash. “When we walk over there you need to be strong lass. Back straight, chin up, like a soldier on parade. Ashamed of nothing. As proud to be with me, as I am to be with you.” He reached down, lifted her bound hands and kissed her fingers. “For luck.” Then he clipped the leash onto her collar. “Now let’s go.”

As they left the room the entity swirled under Jacelyn’s tunic unnoticed and once again settled comfortably into the jewelry that dangled from her chest, watching and waiting as it helpfully made sure the clips it inhabited would never come undone by accident …

---

The gasps began almost immediately. Lord Aldrich’s servants and retainers had of course seen Lord Eric’s guests attired for one of his bacchanals before, but it seemed this was the first time they'd seen a collared and cuffed pleasure slave being marched through the main house. None of them said a word aloud of course, save when responding to Lukas’ requests for directions, but Jacelyn could definitely hear the muttering behind them and sense all the eyes focused on her as the sellsword walked along at an unhurried pace. In truth their journey was not a very long one, but it might have seemed otherwise to the ranger that evening …

---

Eventually they were admitted to a large, opulently furnished drawing room big enough to comfortably entertain perhaps twenty guests, though on this night it seemed to contain only four other people; the muted sounds of a lute and a mandolin coming from behind a series of tall painted screens implied there were two musicians behind them, and Lord Eric and Lady Erica stood before the fire chatting.

Eric Aldrich was wearing an elaborate, full length purple trimmed togha along with a pair of extravagant gold sandals, several heavy gold rings and a laurel wreath around his head. On someone else the costume might have looked faintly ridiculous, but along with the nobleman’s handsome features and proud bearing, it actually came across as rather regal even if it was archaic. Surprisingly perhaps Erica Aldrich’s costume was quite similar to Jacelyn’s, though the noblewoman’s tunic did have some lace around the bottom and was trimmed in violet. Still it was just as sheer as the ranger’s, which made it easy to see that Lady Erica’s figure was a little curvier but also slightly softer than Jacelyn’s; in the light from the fire you could also see that Erica's nipples and areolae were large and dark, though the latter might have been due to rouge. Her face and hair had also been expertly tended to, and the garland of violets that circled the noblewoman’s head matched all that perfectly. Of course Lady Erica wasn’t wearing a collar and cuffs, and instead had further ornamented herself with a simple but clearly expensive set of gold jewelry that included delicate rings, bracelets, earrings and necklace.

The siblings looked over as Lukas and Jacelyn entered the room; Eric’s mouth dropped open as his gaze immediately focused on Jacelyn, while his sister’s eyes widened in surprise for a moment, then began darting back and forth from the ranger’s collar and cuffs to the face and form of the man who was holding the leash attached to that collar. While the two nobles stood there as if in shock, Jacelyn also noticed how Erica’s delicate hands slipped behind her and the noblewoman pulled her shoulders back, though Lukas might have missed that because he was completely focused on the other woman’s brother. “Is there a problem Lord Eric?” the sellsword asked quite politely – Jacelyn knew him well enough by then to hear the faint hint of a smile in his voice – “We are wearing the costumes you so graciously provided us. Though I did take the liberty of embellishing Jacelyn’s a bit with some of the … adornments I’ve purchased for her we travel with.”

Lord Eric finally found his voice and moved forward, his eyes never leaving Jacelyn; Lady Erica glided along behind her brother gracefully, careful to stay out of his shadow so that she could see and be seen. “But … but …” croaked the nobleman. “I thought she was a representative of Lord Mathis?” Eric’s eyes were flicking from Jacelyn’s eyes and face, to the cuffs and collar she wore, to her breasts and back again, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was looking at.

“Oh indeed she is” the big warrior answered amiably. “But that’s not all she is.”

“Do you mean … is she a … is she your …?” Eric’s voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t voice the words or perhaps was in a trance.

Lukas smiled easily at the nobleman as he replied. “Ah, I think I understand what you’re asking. But it’s probably best if she replies to you directly.”

Still holding her leash, Lukas turned and spoke to the bound ranger quite normally. “Jacelyn, why don’t you answer Lord Eric’s questions.” She could see the crooked little grin pulling at the big warrior’s lips, and a glint in his eye as Lukas waited patiently for her to reply …
 
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Jacelyn stood quietly as Lukas readied her body, unable to keep the soft moan from rising in her throat as his mouth closed around each of her nipples in turn. She shivered as the clips were applied, nibbling at her lower lip once the chain hung freely, weighing down her breasts in a way that she couldn't ignore. The rest was painless, but Jocelyn still found herself squeezing her thighs tightly together as he affixed her collar and cuffs, both serving to prime her throbbing sex for unknown delights to come. She should have been ashamed to have such a reaction, to be such a slut, but she'd been trained to it and felt nothing wrong in the act. The only discomfort she felt was the ache of her body as it demanded to be sated, but was denied such pleasures.

It was somewhat intimidating to be paraded about in front of everyone with her status so glaringly obvious, however. She thought that his toys had been for the two of them alone, and not something they'd share with the world. It sullied them in a way, in her mind, for the ogling nobility to be privy to their private business, but she said nothing. She trusted Lukas with her life. While it was unconventional for her, she would bear it for him because it pleased him. He wanted a show, and so she would play along, acting the part as he desired.

Her chin lifted a fraction as they walked, shoulders rolling back to correct her posture, which thrusts her full breasts out even more between her bound arms. She was collared, leashed, and cuffed, but that didn't mean she had to cower. She wore her gear with pride, meeting the gazes of those that stared at her without lingering too long on any one person. She would be subservient to Lukas and any he commanded, but those others had no claims on her liberty.

Standing before the noble siblings, Jacelyn was pleased at their reactions. Lukas had read them correctly and his unconventional methods had thrown them off balance. They no longer sounded condescending. Now they just seemed intrigued.

Her gaze swept over them both as they once again looked to her for answers, and she could see the hunger growing there, especially in the eyes of Eric Aldrich. She also didn't miss the way that his sister cast sidelong glances at the swordsman, admiring his muscular physique that stood out among the softer nobles and guests. Lukas was easily the tallest and the most intimidating. In his current mode of dress, he could have easily been an Imperial General attending a royal function.

"Lord Mathis is my benefactor, but Captain Lukas is my Master," she explained with a soft smile as she glanced at Lukas. "I have given myself to him willingly, as his personal slave, to serve as he commands and to please him as he desires. My body is his to do with as he chooses. I am his, and he is mine in all things."
 
Eric Aldrich nodded as Jacelyn spoke to him, but it was his sister Erica who actually said something in response to the ranger’s words. “Oh my” softly escaped from between the noblewoman’s lips, in a way that could have been either an expression of muted shock or quietly expressed envy. As Lord Eric just stood there and blinked, seemingly trying to process everything he’d just heard, it was Lukas who decided it was time to keep moving forward.

Quite casually the big warrior undid Jacelyn’s cuffs from each other, unclipped her leash, folded it and tucked it into his belt, and finally slipped his arm around the ranger’s slender waist; now Eric looked really confused, while his sister suddenly seemed rather – disappointed perhaps? At that the sellsword smiled pleasantly at the noble siblings, and started speaking to them in a matter of fact way.

“When I was in the East, a number of pleasure slaves were gifted to me.” Which was actually untrue – it had only been one – but he thought it sounded better to say it was more. He laughed lightly. “Not all at once mind you; that would have been far too much for a simple soldier such as myself. Only the Sooltan and some other grandees had hareems. Still, I did learn it was wisest to treat those women as I did my men; train them hard, but treat them well.” He paused. “Because then they’ll not only perform splendidly, but also obey you with all their heart.” The hand around Jacelyn’s waist slipped down to her outer hip and tugged her lightly against the big warrior’s side. “And I did also grow fond of some of them.”

Just then the room’s main door opened as the next couple to arrive was announced, which prompted Lukas to quickly go on. “Ah, you have other guests to attend to Lord Eric, so we’ll just help ourselves to some of your excellent wine;” the mercenary glanced towards some sideboards, which were completely covered with jugs, goblets and platters full of appetizers, before he looked back at Jacelyn. “Come love, it all looks delicious doesn’t it?”

As Lukas squired Jacelyn smoothly away she could almost feel Eric Aldrich’s eyes on them, on her, as the nobleman finally said something; “How extraordinary.” But it was unclear to the ranger if the nobleman was referring to her backside, the sellsword’s words, or both …

---

As the other guests arrived Lukas sipped some wine and spoke to Jacelyn quickly and quietly. “That was perfect lass, simply perfect. We’re off to a good start, but the evening is still young. We need to keep them off balance, keep pressing them, but let’s see what we have to work with first as the others arrive …”

---

As it turned out Eric Aldrich proved to be a rather gracious host, acting in keeping with the very best traditions of his class. He introduced the ranger and sellsword to his arriving guests with some variation of “… and these are our guests of honor this evening, Captain Lukas and Mistress Jacelyn, who are here on business for Lord Mathis …” which definitely set the tone for the first part of the festivities; the prominent commoners from Eastmond village treated them as equals and the other, lesser members of the local nobility were largely polite, respectful enough and sometimes even quite friendly.

Of course Jacelyn’s collar, cuffs and chain did attract a fair amount of attention, but it proved to be of a rather unusual kind, since all the other revelers were also dressed in some attempt at old Imperial attire. About half the men were wearing simple tunics and sandals like Lukas, while the other half had on toghas that undoubtedly were purposely not quite as grand as Eric’s; most of the women were garbed just as Erica and Jacelyn were, though there were a few exceptions. So almost all the comments directed at or about Jacelyn were along the lines of “Oh, what a perfectly marvelous slave girl costume!” or “Eric, what will you think of next?” But some of the people introduced to Lukas and Jacelyn did have more to say than that …

---

At one point a rather portly older man wearing spectacles was introduced to them, along with his wife. The man, who turned out to be the Master of the local Scrivener’s Guild, was wearing an old Imperial helmet and cuirass along with a shortsword at his waist, and appeared more than a little comical – there was a pronounced gap between his breast and back plates thanks to his belly. But he smiled at Jacelyn in a very kindly way as he complimented her. “It’s so wonderful to see another lady also interested in history, wearing something besides what Lord Eric always prefers, as my wife is;” while still quite handsome, the woman standing beside the man had, perhaps wisely, opted to wear a sleeveless stola, the long pleated dress that had actually been favored by Imperial women of the upper classes.

Lukas complimented the man on his “martial appearance,” which seemed to please the scrivener tremendously. “Well thank you Captain. I’m no soldier obviously, but I do respect them tremendously and the Imperial legions were among the best the world has seen …”

After the older pair had walked off Lukas smiled and muttered to Jacelyn. “I like him. If I have to take his sword away, I promise I’ll try not to hurt him …”

---

Sometime after that another young, noble couple was introduced to the guests of honor. The woman seemed to be a friend of Lady Erica’s and was wearing a costume much like hers, to include rouged nipples capping a bosom that was decidedly a bit more … average than Erica’s or Jacelyn’s.

“Oh how … brave of you to wear … all that” the noblewoman said to the ranger, in a tone much like that used by Lady Erica earlier in the day.

Before either Lukas or Jacelyn could reply, Lord Eric stepped up. “Brave indeed. And she wears it well, don’t you think Phillip?”

The nobleman with the woman seemed to reply sincerely “Oh, yes indeed Eric,” which prompted his wife to admonish him. “Don’t start getting any ideas Phillip …” But before she could finish her sentence the noblewoman jumped up a little causing her modest breasts to bounce, because she had quite obviously just been goosed by her husband. “Too late Marie …”

As that pair wandered off, Lukas’ voice was the lowest it had been all evening. “If I have to start killing them all with that sword, he’ll go last.” The sellsword thought for a moment. “Or perhaps first would be kinder. As for her …” Lukas grinned his crooked grin. “… well, if it comes down to it, enjoy yourself lass.”

---

Once the final couple had arrived Lord Eric signaled for servants to begin bringing out the main courses and his guests to find places to sit or recline. He ushered Jacelyn and Lukas to a long, low couch where they were joined by Lady Erica, and the nobleman had them sit with the two men in the center and the women at either end, with his sister beside him. As the wine flowed and delicacies were served, Eric focused on the former and began plying Lukas with all sorts of questions about the South and East, while occasionally letting his eyes stray to Jacelyn. The big warrior seemed to have something interesting to say in response to all of Eric’s queries, and also took time to answer Erica when she chimed in with something. Finally though Eric’s eyes slipped past Lukas and stayed on Jacelyn as he spoke to the sellsword.

“Lukas, I could talk with you all night. But I fear I’d then be ignoring your lovely companion. Perhaps we should switch seats now?”

“An excellent idea Lord Eric. I too wouldn’t want to be accused of neglecting a beautiful lady;” Jacelyn could see that Erica was clearly delighted by the compliment, the first Lukas had sent her way all evening ...

---

The two men switched places, which proved to be a bit of a chore for Eric because of his voluminous togha. But they didn’t change their orientation and so now sat back to back, essentially dividing the long couch into two smaller, more private halves.

As Eric settled himself Jacelyn could see his eyes once again stray to her chest, but this time she was close enough to discern that his gaze was as much on the chain that dangled from it as it was on her bosom, and that he seemed perplexed or perhaps fascinated by it. But whatever questions might have been hovering on the tip of his tongue stayed there after he took yet another sip of his wine and instead, collected himself and smiled.

“Well now, at last we have a chance to talk properly. I really do hope you’re enjoying yourself. Your being here has made this my best bacchanal yet I think.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “Even if everyone else isn’t quite as … well informed as I am.” He had a little more wine and kept his tone low as he went on. “Phillip wasn’t the only man who was … intrigued by your costume. And if my sister is to be believed, a few of the women were as well.” Then a small frown pulled at his lips.

“But here I am rambling on, instead of listening to your lovely voice.” And with that Lord Eric abruptly stopped speaking, and actually kept his pale blue eyes on Jacelyn’s face as he had a little more of the excellent wine …
 
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Jacelyn thought all of Aldrich's guest more than a little pompous, and felt extremely out of place, though she said little during the main course of the evening. She stayed next to Lukas, one arm looped about his waist whenever he held her against him, thankful for the strength and stability he provided. One thing she noted was how often eyes strayed to them and lingered on her body. As she'd not been so bare before others in quite a while, save for the more intimate tumbles she'd had with a soldier or two, the experience made her uneasy. She could see the lust in their eyes and upon their faces, the longing desire, and the interest it sparked. Unwelcome interest. At least Lukas is preventing them from touching me. She'd half expected Eric to demand they kick the festivities off by fucking in front of everyone, but thus far, that hadn't happened. Yet.

As each couple approached to be introduced, she studied them just as the swordsman did, assessing their capabilities in much the same manner. She'd seen enough of entitled nobles to last her a lifetime, but knew better than to give offense for no reason. They still might need some of these people during their investigation, just as they might need the Aldrich siblings. So she played along and enjoyed Lukas' whispered quips about each man they met, which made her smile. He had a way of being at ease in the oddest of situations, she decided, and that gave her great comfort. Had he not been with her, she would have been far too easily cowed by those within the room, especially those that wielded their tiny specks of power with absolute authority.

She was glad for the food when dinner was finally served, able to concentrate on that rather than the stares they'd received. Though the ranger was normally a bit rough around the edges, she conducted herself with the appropriate decorum as a guest, not eating too much, but still showing her enjoyment of the food. She offered Lukas many small tidbits, feeding him as a lover might, thinking that their shared devotion would further cement their story.

As the men switched places, she was attentive and polite as she smiled at his observations. "Your party would have likely been a great success without me, m'lord, but I'm pleased that you enjoyed our company. It surprises me that you do not have your own slave girls to attend you, if only for the night. I'd think that such a wealthy and powerful man would attract such beauties with little trouble."

At the opposite end of the table, Erica was smiling as Lukas joined her. "My brother is more observant than I sometimes know. I've been wishing to speak with you all evening. You really are the most interesting person here tonight. I hope you can stand be parted from your little slave girl for a short time. There are many women here that would enjoy making your acquaintance, and I am wholeheartedly one of them." She touched him lightly on the arm, fingertips lingering upon his skin, and smiled prettily. "Are you enjoying yourself, Captain? Is there anything else you need or desire?"
 
It was easy for Lukas to smile back at Erica. In part that was because she had responded … acceptably to the coup which had been his and Jacelyn’s earlier entrance; the noblewoman had annoyed him tremendously during their first meeting, but now was behaving much more … pleasantly towards him and seemed to be leaving the ranger alone, which was about all he really thought he could hope for. But the sellsword also couldn’t deny that Erica was a very attractive woman, albeit in a way rather different from Jacelyn. The noblewoman’s blonde hair was shorter than the ranger’s dark locks and styled in a fashion that gave her visage a completely different look. And Erica’s shapely form also lacked the lean strength which served as the foundation of Jacelyn’s very womanly body, but still was also quite pleasing in its own, pampered noble way. So all in all he thought she was far from the worst person to be conversing with during a bacchanal.

“My apologies Lady Erica, for being so focused on your brother. But he is Lord of the Manor in your father’s absence.” The sellsword tilted his head slightly and raised one shoulder, as if to add “Protocol; what’s one to do?” Lukas’ smile broadened further. “But now I can remedy that oversight.” He sipped a little wine. “I’m enjoying myself tremendously, but even more so now.” Lukas’ eyes strayed to the garland of flowers around Erica’s head. “Those violets really do bring out the color of your very lovely eyes.” The big warrior let his gaze drop to the hem of the noblewoman’s tunic, though it couldn’t help but stop for a moment as it passed over the rather noticeable twin peaks of her ample bosom. Then he reached out to lightly grasp that hem with two fingers and trace over the lace, which inevitably caused the back of his hand to brush over the smooth skin of the Lady’s bare thigh. “And they match the trim of your tunic perfectly.” Lukas’ hand stayed right where it was as he looked back up into Erica’s face.

“So no, I don’t think there’s anything else I … need or desire.” The sellsword paused for a moment. “For now. But when your brother decides the feast is over, and the … revels are to begin. Well ... that might change.” Lukas let those words hang in the air for a time before continuing. “So until then Lady Erica, perhaps you’d be kind enough to tell me a little of yourself; you’ve heard me prattle on about my little adventures at your brother’s request after all.” The sellsword indicated the room and manor and holdings around them with a quick shake of his head, but kept his eyes on Erica’s. “Your family is clearly prosperous and powerful, but what is it you prefer to do? What does Lady Erica truly enjoy?”

---

Strangely perhaps, Lord Eric suddenly seemed to become quite hesitant before answering Jacelyn; he pulled his gaze from hers, then stared into his goblet for a bit before finally looking away and drinking deeply. Once the nobleman turned his eyes back towards the ranger he just looked into her beautiful face for a time before he finally started talking, and it sounded as if he had decided to ... unburden himself to her.

“My father is a true Aldrich.” The nobleman nodded towards the large, painted wood copy of his house’s seal which hung above the fire. “It may feature a stag’s head, but we’ve long been known as the ‘Stone Men of Eastmond,’ as I’m sure you well know.” He chuckled at that mirthlessly, then had some more wine. “My mother, Lady Margaret, died giving birth to me and my sister. If father ever had a heart of flesh before that, my mother being taken from him as she gave him his heirs ended that; he never forgave my sister and me.” Eric looked down at his goblet, saw it was empty, then called a serving girl to refill it; after another swallow he looked back at Jacelyn and continued trying to answer her, seemingly as best he could.

“A dozen years after my mother’s passing, father turned away from the old ways and instead began following that new god from the East; he said the old gods had failed him. Father was the first of our class hereabouts to do so, and while he made no secret of it he also wasn’t inclined to become some sort of preacher. He left that to the mad beggar priests who constantly spout nonsense about the evil of slavery, or that coupling for anything beyond having children is somehow offensive to their patron.” The young nobleman shook his head at those notions. “He became unbearable after that. In the end it was all Prestwick could do to keep him from freeing all our field slaves outright, which would have finished us. But there was no way to indenture the slave girls, so ...” Eric waved one hand as if signaling “goodbye.” Then, even though he’d really just answered Jacelyn’s question, the nobleman glanced behind him towards Lady Erica for a moment and went on.

“The next several years were … very hard for me. I think I would have gone mad without my sister.” He had some more wine before he smiled bitterly. “And then, perhaps four years after my father took to the new god, that deity finally smiled upon my father. He met a woman while traveling in the South, the fourth daughter of a Count; Lady Giana, who became his second wife, and our stepmother.” Eric shook his head sadly. “She was only four years older than us, and she absolutely loathed this place. And she hated her new step-daughter even more.” Another bitter smile and a sip of wine. “But she took a liking to me. She couldn’t get father to buy any new pleasure slaves, but did convince him to let me indulge myself a bit with these bacchanals.” Eric gestured breezily around the room. “Father never attended of course, but Lady Giana did.”

After waving away a servant with a platter of food the nobleman continued. “It’s been almost a year since my stepmother died of the pox. She never did give my father any children; it might have been because she was barren, but Erica is quite certain it was because Giana was using some sort of remedy from the South, to rid herself of the seed left within her by any … by father before it could take root.” Eric shrugged as if he had no particular opinion on that matter. “Since my stepmother’s passing father has become even harder. He rarely talks to me anymore, even though I am his heir.” The nobleman shrugged once again. “Even Prestwick has no idea what father is thinking these days, though at least father still talks to him from time to time about running the estate.” And then he abruptly stopped talking once again, and just stared into his goblet as if lost in thought. But before Jacelyn could say anything to the man, he looked up with a sad little smile on his face.

“I may have told you more than you wanted to know, but at least I’ve answered your question as a good host should. So now I want you to tell me something.” The nobleman shifted forward on the couch to get closer to the ranger, and as he did his bare calf slid against hers. But it seemed like that really was accidental, since Eric kept his hands to himself and also leaned forward as if to speak to Jacelyn privately; before he did, his eyes flicked down to her chest and then back up to her striking blue eyes. His voice was soft.

“Your … chain. Does it … hurt?” He was so close she could smell the sweet wine on his breath mixed with his cologne. Then Eric leaned even closer, so that he could actually whisper to Jacelyn. But the words he spoke most definitely weren’t the ‘sweet nothings’ of poetry.

“A few people have asked me … about your scars. I told them it was the same artistry you see players use on the stage. Was it …” Eric’s whisper became so muted Jacelyn could barely hear what he was saying, even though his lips were right next to her ear. “Was it … the Captain who … did that to you?”

The handsome nobleman pulled his head back a little so that he could look at Jacelyn as she hopefully answered him; when he did she could see that he looked more than a little queasy. And not because of the wine he’d been drinking …
 
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Erica giggled girlishly at the attentions and even scooted a little closer as Lukas grazed her thigh. She was flush, both from the attention and from the wine. Blond curls waving, she shook her head at his question. "There is not much I'm allowed to do, I'm afraid. I'm not a common laborer, and father thinks it unseemly for a woman of noble blood to have an occupation. Such is the case that I'm regulated to whatever little amusements that I might find upon the grounds. My hobbies are varied for that reason, for I admit I grow quite bored doing the same thing each day. I dabble in painting and embroidery. We have a vast library that one might get lost in for days on end. Father has also allowed music lessons. I play the harp, though I'd admit that I'm not terribly good at it. I'm still learning, however."

"I do think that what I most enjoy is riding. The stables are impressive and hold a fine selection of beautiful horses. I'm normally given a timid mare to ride about the estate, but what I much prefer are spirited stallions." Her lips twitched and he felt her hand upon his knee.

"These little diversions are most welcome, as well. I'm afraid that Eric has had a difficult time of it from our father. He's grown rather strict and chooses to withdraw from most society, though allows these revelries because they were a favorite of our departed step-mother." Her smile faltered a little at the mention of the woman, and she glanced briefly to their guests who were involved in their own flirtatious conversations, watching them rather than be weighed by Lukas' intense gaze. "She was not at all fond of me, but she adored Eric, and would do most anything to make him happy."

She looked to where her brother was involved in an intimate conversation with Jacelyn and her lips thinned with discomfort. "Eric has a great many sycophants that believe he shall soon be the next Lord Aldrich. In truth, I think my father is far too stubborn to abdicate, and certainly far too ornery to die. He might just live forever to spite my brother."

Her smile returned as her eyes slid back to Lukas, though it was strained. "Oh, you must forget I said that. I'm becoming far too melancholy and shall ruin the festival. I thought I would truly be married by now with a family of my own, but I think father has been reluctant to give up my dowry to anyone. And so I remain here in this luxurious cage while I wait for men to decide my fate."

---

Noting the man's discomfort, Jacelyn leaned to place a comforting hand upon his arm and shook her head. "Nae, these are old wounds. Be at peace and do not think badly of my Master. He can be demanding, but he wouldn't harm me in such fashion or leave wounds that I would bear forever. My scars were from a very mournful time in my life. I would have covered them if my costume allowed it, so as not to offend. I know they are not pleasant to look upon."

"I was born a slave, you see, and raised among the Northmen. My mother was a pleasure slave. I was thrayed, a domestic slave, but was required to do whatever was demanded of me. My stripes were punishment for trying to escape when I was old enough to attempt it. They could have executed me, but I was a good worker and little trouble save for the attempt. Life was harder afterward, but I endured. Lord Mathis took a liking to me during one of his visits to the north with a caravan of merchants. He bought me, but only so I could work off my debt and be free. It was he that had me train as a ranger to help scout and protect his shipments."

"As for my chain..." Her lips curved into a sensual smile as she leaned in to murmur quietly. "It does hurt a little at first, but the pressure becomes a welcoming heat in only a short time. However, any slight snag or tug will bring that pain about anew. It is an enjoyable sensation for one who is accustomed to rough handling." One eyebrow lifted as she leaned back and reached for her wine. Her eyes cut sideways at the lordling as she took a sip.

"Perhaps, if Master permits it, he might allow a demonstration."
 
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