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KylarStern

KylarStern

Super-Earth
Joined
Jan 8, 2010
Run… must run. All that remained was the urgent need to get away. The frail legs of the 12-year old boy that dashed through the trees beat a steadily rising tempo, that seemed oddly loud… considering the thick foliage and fallen leaves that covered the trail. His heart thumped against his chest and his breath came in rasping gasps. He was dizzy, tired and out of breath, but stop… he could not. Every time he even thought of slowing down the words screamed in his head, “Run Kyle! Keep running and don’t look back!”

With a shout he awoke and sat bolt upright in his bed, panting and wild eyed. His body was covered with a thin sheen of sweat, fast disappearing in the cool breeze that whispered through the open windows. Kylar shook his head, trying to clear it of the vision that had plagued him for the last 20 years.

He rose from his bed and reached out to a jug of water. After gulping down a few hurried mouthfuls, he let the rest flow down his face and bare chest. Standing by the open window, he looked out upon the forest that rose not far away. For a moment he thought he heard those words again, “…keep running and don’t look back.” He tensed as his hand tightened on the window sill, his muscles cording and rippling against his taut skin. Run? Yes he had run… sometimes it seemed as if he’d been running his whole life.

They were hard times. He was just 12-years old, and had been hungry enough to steal a little food from the barracks. He had watched his father hang for the crime. He had run that day, away from the dangling corpse of his father, away from the truth, away from the life he knew. The only thing that he took with him, were the dying words of his father. For the longest time, he had run from him own guilt. It was his fault that his father had died. But then one day he realized what his true crime had been - being born a commoner, a peasant. And for the rest of his life, he’d worked hard to erase that blemish.

He became obsessed with power. He promised himself never to be as helpless ever again and so he trained. He trained himself in the arts of combat, until he was equally formidable with and without weapons. He became a sword for hire and earned himself a reputation. The word was out that he wasn’t a man to be trifled with.

It had been this very reputation that had first brought him to the Sheriff’s notice.

The Sheriff had been in need of hard men, and Kylar was the hardest of them. He was now a Captain of the Guard, responsible for collecting taxes from the outlying villages. And he had the command of a company of 4 that he kept well in line.

Now, if only these bloody nightmares would finally go away.
 
The clouds were dark and thick nearly looking like siege towers from the small hut. Slowly they creeped over the dry land like a fat slug would creep over the grass. Smaragd eyes watched in shock as the first lightning flashed down on the earth iluminating the dark landscape for a split second in the brightest light. A roiling thunder followed soon after telling the thunderstorm was quite close. The girl looking out for the storm flinched when another lightning flashed down towards the ground connnecting with a tree.

The pure force split the old oak in half relentlessly setting it on fire. The girl's eyes widened as a branch broke down falling down on the dry ripe crops. "dad, dad come fast the fields are on fire.", but it was too late the dry crops where burning already and the fire spread out too fast to be stopped in time. Her eyes reflected the merciless orenge flames devour everything in their way. As if it all wasnt enough finally the clouds released the water they stored up letting it fall down in thick drops on the black ash. It was like nature itself was mocking the people.

Sarah's eyes wandred over the field again that had been so wonderfull and stunning golden yet now it was a black wastelend. The small twigs and branches looked like scorched arms of skelletons reaching out for the sky. Her smaragd eyes went to the bread in her hand. It was a half slice. More then one and a half slice was too much for one day. So she had to got with three halves for her each day, so the supplies would last over the year. She lifted it to her mouth. The soft lips opened to let it in but then she felt something pinch her hand. A wince escaped her as she looked down. A goose was there pecking her hand and after the slice. Behind it where three little geese. Grey and fluffy not fully grown yet they looked up at her with those relentless cute black eyes. Sarah sighed and knelt down feeding the bread equally to the four animals staying more hungry this afternoon.

The clothes of the girls where of plain brownish thin cloth sleeveless due to the summer time. Her shoulders where lightly tanned as she was working outside like every other peasant. But in fact she was rather pale for that. Her gown didnt cover them. it didnt covers much anway. her legs from a little higher than her knees where showing along with her shoudlers and arms. Brown cascades of striaght brown hair fell down her back. She was cute especially for not being combed and made up like the more noble girls did. She was a natural beauty yet she didnt consider heself pretty or even beautiful. Sure the boys of the village where after her but she always turned them down as she had to work on the field and take care of the animals.

A surprised forwn would be seen on her face as she noticed the cloud of dust in close distance. Riders where coming over the bridge of the little stream. This could mean only two things. Either it was a group of bandits on raid or it as time for the taxes. Well both wasn't pleasant so she ran home to her father who quickly let her in and awaited the riders at the door like a proper inhabitant of the kingdom after he had recognized the kings banner. He prayed to all gods he knew that they would have mercy with his situation but in these terms god never had an open ear for him it seemed.
 
Kylar wasn't in the best of moods. In fact, today he was in a positively foul one.

He hadn't dreamt last night, his sleep had been peaceful. Or it should have been... had he not been woken up by that blasted storm. Moreover, the storm had been heavy enough that half the villages he had to visit today, would be muddy... and he hated having to trudge through the slush. Well, the only silver lining was, he wouldn't have to clean his own boots later on... he'd have his soldiers do that for him. That thought calmed him a little.

Plus, it was the tax season and that was always an irksome time... he'd have to listen to endless excuses - failed crops, sudden illnesses, slow business... the list was endless. And then he'd have to cuff a few of them.. or his soldiers would get overly creative and he'd have to keep a watchful eye that they didn't get too far out of hand. But between them, they usually got 'em all to pay. His reputation helped too. He had killed for less and they knew it. But, killing these peasants wouldn't help their cause at all... dead serfs do not pay. But, it wouldn't hurt to let them keep believing that he might.

In any case, most times the mere sight of him would be enough. His wasn't an unpleasant face... but there was enough iron in the weatherbeaten visage, that most sane people would not try his patience without good cause. His six-foot frame was corded with muscle. All the years of training and the constant fighting kept him lean and, to use a cliche, mean! Tiny scars criss crossed his arms, a few even touched his face, but it was testament to his skill that none of them seemed to have been caused by a serious wound. Still, they were enough to put the fear of god into the villagers. His sword hung low on his hips, and was always loose in its scabbard. A fact he unconsciously kept checking a little too often. It was more out of habit than anything else... but that one little practice was what scared people the most. It gave him the air of a coiled serpent, ready to strike at the smallest hint of provocation. And to be perfectly honest, he could go from calm to deadly in less than a heartbeat.

As he rode into the village with his men, the people scampered to get out of his way. He sent his soldiers out to collect the taxes while he walked his horse around between the houses. As he passed one of the little hovels, he noticed a charred field with a split oak at one end. It didn't take a mean intellect to figure out what had happened. From the smell, he knew this was recent, probably the storm last night had been responsible. He shook his head with a grimace. The farmer wouldn't be able to pay his taxes this time... and it wasn't his fault either. He turned around and walked his horse to the little hovel, but his soldiers had already beaten him to the door and they were dragging the poor man out. He'd have to put a stop to it, but it wouldn't hurt to let the other villagers get an eyeful first. It would only make them all that much more nervous and eager to pay.
 
Sarah was standing onside the hovel when the men arrived. Her eyes where squeezed shot when she listened to the absolutely true explanations of her father about the thunderstorm. The soldiers wouldnt listen and she could hear the first hit. A fist braced with iron connected to something soft and she sunk down against the hovel wall cryng weakly as she only heard the sounds of the beating. She felt like throwing up, anger rose within her anger agaisnt the soldiers agaisnt the landlord against the whole world. But a kind soul like her could never let it loose.

After a few minutes of the threatening sounds she head a crackign sound and a scream escaped her father. This was too much for her to bear. She ran out of the hut and saw her father was being held up against the wooden wall of the hovel. "go back inside!" she ordered her weakly but she didnt. Her warms wrapped around him so her back would cover his sotmach where he was mainly hit by the soldiers. She was't tall so her head only reahed a little lower than her fathers neck. She held onto him standing in they way of the soldiers so they wouldn't hit him anymore. "You dont have any heart do you?", she shouted at them angered her eyes red from the tears.

"can't you see what happaned? The thunderstorm destroyed our crops we can not pay even if we dont pay we will be nearly starving" she screamed muffled by her fathers chest.

When she turned her head to see the soldiers. She flinched when she saw the leader who was known to draw his sword quickly and on occasions that seemed not even worth drawing it. The ground made a crunching sound as it slightly gave in when he got off the horse and the weight of his body plus the armor forced the mubby ground to lower lightly beneeth him. Terror was in her beautiful eyes as the other soldiers stepped aside to leave their captain the place for acting.

Sarah's hands clutched the cloth of her fathers gown tightly. Her knuckles were white from the strength she used to hold unto it as it forced the blood out of her hands. Thud, Thud, Thud a few times iron connected with mudy gravel ground until she could hear it was close enough to reach. Her eyes squeezed shut and shivering in fear she waited for the judgement.

She felt her heart race like crazy. Like they veins tried to pump the blood back into her fisted hands. She felt the light thrusts in her veins cause by the built up blood. She could feel her heartbeat everywhere in her body. She could even hear it it seemed. Her short life passed in front of her eyes again. It was short indeed. She was only 16 years old. To young to die.
 
Kylar was about to put an end to it, when the fool girl came running out. He heard her scream and shout at the soldiers, and was in no mood to let such disrespect pass. If it had only been the farmer, he might have figured he'd had enough and let it slide this one time. But now,.. It wouldn't do to let these rabble think they can get away with bad mouthing his men.

He kneed his horse closer to the commotion and got off, adjusting his sword as he was wont to do. As he approached the man he got a clearer look at the girl. She was barely half his age... and from the tan on her skin, he assumed she helped the old man with the farm. The short shift she wore... for it could hardly be called a dress... revealed perfectly shaped legs. Her eyes were clamped shut... fear perhaps. She must have heard enough of his reputation to have at least that much sense.

The dress clung to her and revealed an enticing figure. He'd of course seen her in the village before but hadn't paid much attention. Now he realized, he'd probably missed something. He motioned to one of his men, who immediately grabbed the girl and pulled her roughly aside from her pleading father. Another of his soldiers held the old man, so he didn't try anything foolish.

Now that he had a proper look at the girl, he realized she wasn't a bad sight at all. Especially once you got all the dirt and grime off of her. Yes.. she'd clean up nicely. Still looking at her he said over his shoulder to the old man, "So you can't pay the taxes..." He then turned to the girl and asked her, "...and what is it exactly that you'd have us do, girl?"

He leaned in close to her and in a harsh whisper said, "Perhaps you'd have us overlook it entirely and just let things be? That would be the right thing to do now wouldn't it?"

He straightened and continued, "So the next time I come around and the black smith suggests that his smithy went up in a freak fire... or the butcher's cows were all attacked by wild animals... or perhaps the potter's shed caved in with all his wares still inside..."

He grabbed the girl's face.. his fingers digging into her cheeks as he forced her to look at him... "No child, we cannot afford a heart in this business... nor can we afford to let grimy little girls talk back at us!"
 
Sarah would feel a the iron grip of a soldier's stell glovves around her uper arms digging into her sken leaving small marks on her armswhile she wa dragged to the leader of the troup. Her whole body shivered while she was brought over to him. Her father wanted to help but the hands of two soldiers holding him against teh wall was much to strong to fight back.

Sarah's eyes closedas she was brought to the captain who looked her up and down and she averted her eyes feeling weak beneeth his gaze and even more powerless. His hand reached out for her digging into her soft cheeks. she didn't make a sound yet she could feel the cold iron against her warm skin and how the cold sunk into her cheek coming fomr the metal fingers of his glove. his hand was ghuge it was enought to hold her whole head it seemed and it was firm and relentless.
She heard him whisper her raspy voice sounding like the voice of a crow just ready to dive downform the sky on some half dead body to devour the dead flesh. He asked her what she would do despite knowing the answere. He knew she would let it slip he knew what she thought, what the right thing was. Yet he asked and it terrified her.

Her lips quivered as if she was about to say something but instead she looked down yet he immediately jerked her head up again forcing her to look into his face. Her face was filled with fear. He could almost taste it. Those smaragd eyes filled with fear and slowly very slowlyhe could see tears gather in those wonderfull green orbs. One rolled down drawing a clean line down her dirty cheek cleasing it form the dust and musd that was in the tears way. It revealed her skin was only of a very light tan. more tears followed. The first one dripped onto his iron-covered palm leaving a pool a pure salty water on it just a little one. The next tear fell onto his hand and soon it was enough so they would run down his hand and drop onto the brown ground which hungrily devoured the poor girls tears. Tears of pure fear.

Her mouth opened her lips moved but nothing came out. "arghl" she rasped weakly and oughed a bit then she finally made it to speal "please...i beg you....leave father be" she said weakly and hicupped weakly. The fiongers of the soldier who was holding her had drained the blood in her arms and she couldn't feel them anymore. The only thing she felt was fear, the stinging pain of her tears in her eyes which she didnt even dare to close anymore, and the ice cold firm grip of the bracers in her face.
 
Leave father be....

Those words brought him short. An old memory, that refused to fade no matter how much he tried to forget, surfaced once more, threatening to engulf him in a tidal wave of remorse and grief. A stab of pain lanced through his chest and he grimaced. The feeling was immediately replaced by anger. Of all the things she could've said, those were the last words she should have.

His gloved hand immediately went to his sword. The feeling of rage that now engulfed him was staggering in its enormity. He fought to control himself. The world had chosen to punish his father for his crime... why should he be any different? In a flicker that was faster than most eyes could see, his sword was in his hand and he'd turned on his heels. The blade shimmered in the sunlight as he swung the sword, faster than thought and blinded by his own rage... the rage of a helpless boy who could do nothing to save his father. He stopped short just in time, the tip of his blade to the farmer's throat. He vaguely heard her scream.. and the soldiers holding the old man had let go as they were stunned by the speed of his reaction. He struggled to bring his emotions to heel. Somewhere a voice screamed inside his head... a little boy's voice.

The fire that burned then in his eyes, could have melted iron. He turned slowly to the girl... "You! This has gone on long enough!"

He still held his sword as he glared at her, "The tax MUST be paid. Your fields have burned and you'll have no harvest this season... so, how do you intend to save your worthless hides? Have you got anything at all to offer in place of your father's life?"

"Speak or I gut you here and now... the whole lot of you!"
 
She heard his steps lead him away form her and then a swift grind of iron and shrieked in fear. She struggled but the soldier easily held the weak girl in an iron grip. "..MUST be payed" it echoed through ehr little head. she winced and whimpered her tears wettening her gown. "I do not posses anything..." she said and her head run wild on thinking what she could do. She didnt want to have her dad die not now and not due to such a worthless reason like not paying the taxes and even less because of her foolishness.

Her gaze wandered to the ground seeing the mudy street beneeth her bare feet. Her toes covered in the dirt. She looked down at herself. Dirty and bruised all voer form work and the abuse of the soldiers. Her short gown that covered her wonderfull round soft breasts but did nothing to hide their fowm. she could see hear tears had darkened the cloth around her neck.

"like anything i could give you would statisfy your greedy hands" she said wekaly so noone could hear. Yet she blinked as soemthing hit her mind. she didn't want it but it was for her father and most likely the whole village "i offer myself" she said "take my life instead of the others. i will gladly give it for the sake of my friends and my fatehr" she said firmly yet crying "i give my life to your hands. as a payment for the wasted field."

Then her voice cracked nothing came out of her anymore and she would have broken down to her knees landing in the mud if the soldier wouldn't hold her so tightly. She was waiting for the judgement being placed on her. She didnt expect to live longer than a few more moments. Yet she ahdn't thought about the fact that 'owning' someone's life could also be handled an other way than killing him. She heard the steps of the heacy iron boots againa nd swalloweda s she looked up with those wonderfull green orbs seeing her executioner comeing intoview his sword still in his hand.
 
Kylar stared at the girl for a minute. It was a chance he had never been offered. A part of him hated himself for letting her have that chance and another hated her for taking it. At a signal from him the soldier holding the girl forced her to her knees. He then walked up to her, close enough so she was staring at his feet and put the edge of his sword to her throat. Any resistance from the father was held in check by his men... who were, in all honesty, a little shocked at what was happening.

Sure they had messed up the old man some, but that was strictly business. The farmer had been unable to pay the tax and therefore would have to be roughed up. That was common sense, 'cos it made sure others did not try to weasel their way out of paying it themselves. But they were well aware that their Captain would never have taken a life over a simple tax evasion, especially when it was clear that the man wasn't lying. But all of this... this just didn't make sense. Sure they had heard of his reputation, but hearing it and seeing the man insane with anger was an entirely different matter. They had no clue what had transpired here to make him this angry. But they were sure as hell that they didn't want to know. None of them dared oppose him either. While the man may have had any qualms about killing one of the villagers, he wouldn't spare a second thought to striking down an armed soldier... and they weren't absolutely sure that being unarmed, would make an iota of a difference.

They could do nothing but simply watch as he walked up to the girl. His face was a mask of barely checked anger. They held the old man in place more from a wish to see one less corpse than anything else.

In a low voice he said to her, "I accept your offer. In exchange for your life, I spare those of your family!"

The point of his sword slowly moved down her neck and pressed against the hollow of her throat... and moved a little lower still to tug the neckline of her gown ever so lightly... but enough for her to understand his meaning when he spoke, but to everyone else it looked like he was readying to stab her through her heart, "I am afraid, you will live to regret your words...."

He pulled his sword away and then in barely a whisper, "Still, you should consider yourself lucky. This was a chance I was never offered!"
 
sarah would feel pressure on her shoulders nad her knees easily gave in to the pressure letting her fell into the mud. Her knees where embraced with it. Soon she saw a pair of iron boots ccome into her veiw. It was muddy and yet looked cold and strong. She looked up at him to look up the length of a cold shining iron blade. she looked dwon again and gasped when she saw the tip of the blade was about to penetrate the gown just over her heart.

Everything was dead silent. you could have eard a needly fall to the ground and it would have sounded like roiling thunder. the tip edged closed until she could feel it lightly yet not painfully on her soft thin skin. she started shivering in fear. the shiverinf cause the gown to give in letting the tip enter lightly making a little cut into the grey gown yet her skin was still unharmed. I accept your offer!. it rang through her head. she noticed what she had done and then looked dwon to those shoes again not daring to look at her fathers face.

She felt the pressure increase a bot and a singe droplet of blood exited her skin running down her skin and lightly staining the top of the sword. She sweated now the pain was nearly not there as the blade was clean and sharp not causing much pain. Yett he red slowly stained her gown with a little droplet of blood. You shall live to regret your words. Her eyes widened and she looked up as the blade was removed fomr her heart and he stowed it in the sheath. "What?" she asked in disbelief falling back on her but accidently leaning to the shins of the soldier that had forced her to her knees. "what happens now?" she asked weakly.
 
He looked at her, "Your life, as you so nobly offered, is forfeit. It now belongs to me. YOU now belong to me. You may speak your farewells.. and then you shall come with me!"

He then left her there in the mud as he walked away, calling his soldiers to him. Having checked on the rest of the tax collections for this village, he quietly added a few gold crowns from his own pouch into the collection chest. It wasn't lost on the soldiers and they exchanged looks between them. Kylar wasn't the sort of man to miss much... and he had noticed the look. He gave them orders that as long as the girl remained with him, her family was not to be harmed and they would no longer be taxed.

Kylar then ordered them to wait as he went and collected the girl. He thought to take her with him to the other villages. It would do them good to see the penalty for crossing him. Holding onto the reins of his horse, he swung himself on to saddle and with a couple of gentle nudges with his heels, he turned the horse around and walked it back to her house. He waited for her to finish up her teary-eyed goodbyes, after all, it was more than likely she'd never see them again.
 
She felt the warmth coming form her fatehr as she hugged him sobbing inot his chest. Her tears had dried after about 10 minutes and an annoyed voice told her to come already as it's owner was impatient now. Slowly and weakly Sarah got up to turn to her new owner. She looked up at him as he sat on his horse towering over her even though he was a few meters away.
Weakly she trotted over to him lost in her thoughts of fear and distrust towards this man. her naked feet made wet sounds on the muddy ground. "where do ge go?" she asked while walking over to him.

She was like she was asleep. Walking towards him until she nearly bumped into him and snapped out of her dazed condition. She looked up now. He was tall his head in front of the sun that had broken through the clouds. She swallowed "do i need to walk?" she asked weakly not sure how she shhould keep up with the horses. She couldn't ride either she never learned it.

Her gown flew a bit with the wind and she looked like a lost scarecrow on the bare ground. Damned to do futile tasks in a place she can't escape. Her lips quivered as she breathed in and it seemed like an eternity when she breathed out again. A last time she turned to her still shocked buy crying father and gave him a kind smiling wave. As she did that she could feel a cold iron hand wrap around her wrist
 
Leaning down, Kylar grabbed the girl by her waist and lifted her up on to his charger. Only to toss her face down across the pommel of his saddle... like a sack of grain, or maybe in this case 'a hunk of meat', would be more accurate. As he turned the horse around towards the trail leading out of the village, he took a minute to look around at the faces of the peasants that still stood and watched.

What was it he saw? Indifference? Or was it relief that it was her and not them? But there wasn't even one person that had raised a voice or tried to defend the girl. It seemed people hadn't changed all the much, in the last 20 years. This might have been his own village... it sure was the same expression that he'd seen on their faces.

Maybe it was that... the sudden feeling that this girl was not all that much different from the boy that had started running all those years ago... of maybe it was the hatred he felt towards these people, who could stand and watch one of their own taken without showing so much as the hint of a spine! But whatever the reason, in a voice that would not carry far, he said to her, "It may be small consolation... but you have my word that for so long as you please me, your family will always have food on the table and will be taken care of. Cross me.. and that is another matter entirely."

With that he heeled the charger to a trot and then to a light gallop as they rode out to the next village. The wind rose as the horse picked up speed and billowed the already rising hem of her gown, showing the back of her thighs. He patted the cloth down, giving her thigh a little squeeze as he did. The leather of his iron fitted glove must have felt rough and cold against her skin.

They rode hard all the way to the next village and he pulled the horse to a stop at the village square. Most of them had disappeared inside their homes, the few villagers that remained stared at him and the strange cargo he was carrying. He lifted her down and placed her on her feet. He grabbed her hands and used the reins of his horse to tie her wrists together and looped it over the pommel of the saddle.. It wasn't that he was afraid she would run. But he was well aware of the reaction this simple indignity would engender in the minds of the villagers.

He watched as his men went around collecting taxes. He was sure they were being asked about the girl and the soldiers would be trying to explain as best they could... which was good enough he supposed as there were no arguments or excuses from the villagers. Every one coughed up their share of the taxes. Even his own men seemed overly sober as they went about their duty.
 
Sarah was yanked back as the horse started to rush forward it's mane lashing her arm a bit in th wind while her hair flew behind in the wind. she clutched the little robe that was secure on the saddle for her dear life. Her gown flew up in the wind and she could feel a leatehr braced hand pull it back in place not without resting coldly on her thigh for a few seconds. she shivered at the touch. It send shivers down her spine and goosebumps visibly formeed on her skin.

In no time the next village was reached. Sarah could feel the people's stares on her. they burned into her skin or at least she felt like it did. Her master grabbed her wrists roughly and she was scared he would throw her off but he simply tied her hands tightly witht he reins and she felt the rough leather cut her crists slightly "i won't run i...." seh stopped upon seeing his face and lowered her eyes afriad of his expression. It had looked like a statue of a proud hero like they would stand in the capital and on the Market places of the larger towns. Proud stern strict and absolutely incorruptable and relentless. She cowered. Yes she feared him not for being quick with his sword but just for the fact he owned her.

After about an hour all the taxes had been put inot the large chest which was carried by the four man that where his underlings. It would be carried by a seperate horse that would be lead in the middle of the troup. She could feel him untie her hands and he would see the bright red marks the reins had left on her delicate wrists. She didn't flinch or whimper when he grabbed them not caring if he touched the bruises yet he could see her body flinsh in his grasp.
 
Having finished the business here, Kylar carried the girl in the same fashion and repeated the process in two more villages before he was ready to turn back. In each village he'd leave her tied to his horse at the village square. He wanted the peasants aware that there would be consequences to trying to thwart his will. Even more so, he wanted the girl aware of exactly what she had gotten herself into. By displaying her in this manner, he not only advertised the fact that she was now his, but also made sure she realized that everyone in these parts knew it too. Tongues would wag as is their nature. Whatever he did or did not do to her now, the imagination and rumours would run wild. Her life, as anything but his property, was now over. Even if she were to escape from him now, her only choice would be to leave these parts or live in shame.

The taxes needed to be brought to the Keep so that the Sheriff could have the lot transferred to the King. But there was one thing he needed to do first. Having told his men to start out on the road to the Keep, he turned his horse to the manor house that had been given him as quarters. It wasn't a large house, still it was more than one would expect of a Captain. But then, he was no ordinary Captain. He had ridden hard to get here quickly, with her jostling along thrown callously across the saddle and his knees. As he drew up at the door an old stable hand hurried up to take the reins of his horse. Having put her down, he jumped down after her and pulled her roughly in through the door.

A portly woman came rushing out of the kitchen when she heard the commotion and bowed to see him. He waved away her obeisance with an irritated shake of his hand and pushed the girl into her arms. "Tilda, here. This is my latest property. It would please me to have it cleaned up and presentable by the time I am back."

As the woman grabbed the girl he continued, this time to Sarah, "I am hoping that sparing your wretched life was indeed worth it, slave."

He then turned on his heels and walked out again. He soon departed, pushing his charger to a full gallop to catch up with his men.
 
Sarah felt her knees nearly give in asshe was dropped off the horse. The ground shook a little as mer master jumped down behind her his heavy armor complaining at the impact but of course it was alright. He gripped her by her slim shoulders and she could feel the cold of the gloves sink into her soft skin again. She was lead towards a hosue and gaped at the size. it was much bigger than the hovel she had lived in. "this is huge" she managed to breathe weakly. her hands gripped her gown to shift it slightly into the roght position when her master opened the door.

A lady ran towards him and she first thought it was his wife. But when she bowed and greeted him she knew it was a maid. Sarah bowed to her in respect like she was tought to bow to each older person. "clean her up" her master ordered the maid ad soon she was gripped and pulled towards the woman who seemed to be very strong. She talked to her and all Sarah remembered was the hhissed word "slave". It made her feel so low and weak she nearly started to cry again as she realized it was true. She blinked and her master was gone.

The maid led her to a tub and filled it with water. Sarah did not struggle as she felt the maid rip of her gown to stare at her young body with a glance of envy in ehr gaze. sarah swallowed at that and didn't dare to say anything. She was forced inot the tub which was full of ice cold water. She was used to bathing cold but that was not the problem. Soon the maid was coming with a hard rough brush and it hurt like hell on the cold sensitive skin. It left sore spots which soon would turn red. Yet after half an hour her skin was even softer than before and free of the dirt. "sit down ench" the maid said sourly and got a comb to comb her het hair mercilessly ripping out all the kots in her hair until it was straight.

Soon after she was clean and put into a siilar gown just it was brownish and not dirty and a little longer she heard hooves and soont he door was opened loudly. She was pulled to the front room by the maid and sawher master arrive and shivered a bit in fear. the maid hit the back of sarahs knees and she fell down to her knees in a kneeling position. "welcome master" she stammared in fear.
 
Kylar had caught up with his men a little before the Keep. Having relieved them of their charge, he left them to wander through the market while he got one of the Sheriff's guards to carry the collection chest to the official's room. The Sheriff was the usual amiable self that he was, whenever Kylar visited. For one, he always brought in a full chest of tax and for another Kylar made him just a little nervous.

After exchanging a few pleasantries with the man, Kylar withdrew. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the hospitality of the Sheriff, but the man was irritating. Moreover, his mind was elsewhere today. On his new pet to be precise. He'd never had a 'slave' before... it wasn't something he truly approved of even. But this girl and everything that had happened had made him irrational. Maybe it was the fact that he had been reminded of his own past or maybe it was something else... something about the girl itself. Well... to be perfectly honest, it wasn't all that mysterious. She was a pretty little thing and had a lithe and enchanting figure that he was sure would only be made even more enticing with a little food in her belly. The sight of her lying across the saddle had stirred something deep inside him. Her bare thighs as the wind had lifted her gown awakened a need in him... he shook his head. It would not do to be so enamored of a slave girl.

In any case he was soon back in the saddle and riding for home. His men would look him up if anything needed his attention. For the most part, his Wolfhead sigil that they wore, along with the King's insignia was usually enough to keep them on top of things. When he got home, he left his horse in the charge of the stable hand. But lingered long enough to see him take the proud beast to its stall, unsaddle it and prepare some feed for the beast. He was sure the man would water the animal and brush him down soon.

He then turned to the manor and stepped inside. As he was pulling his gloves off, Tilda brought the girl to him. He had to stop himself from gaping. He had expected her to clean up well, but the sight of the girl almost took his breath away. Tilda had indeed done a good job... her straight brown hair cascaded down to cover her shoulders. The gown she wore, clung to her like a shimmering second skin, that seemed to reveal all her curves to the best advantage. Cut low, the neckline revealed just the lightest hint of a cleavage between her nubile but full breasts. Her skin was paler than he first thought. All the work this girl was used to, only aided in toning an already enticing figure.

He watched as Tilda forced Sarah to her knees... the sight did something to him. To see her like this on her knees, his to command as he saw fit... and the words, Welcome, master, sent a heady sense of power rushing through him. "Leave us." he told Tilda in a low voice.

As the woman left, he circled the kneeling girl and came to stand behind her. "You please me, slave." he said from behind her. "Do your realize what has happened and how your life is changed from his moment on? If so, I would like to hear you say it."
 
sarah whimpered as his steps trailed around her like a tiger was circling its prey. and she was nothing else. His prey to use and feast on. She really hoped he woudlnt do that at least. His words were branded into her brain like it was done with a branding iron on her skin. "slave" she whispered weakly and soon was holding her hands in fornt of her eyes to hold her tears in. She didn't want to serve such a cruel person she didn't want to live a life that was somebody else's just because of her daring mouth.

her new gown was tight and rubbing agaisnt her sensitive soft skin she didnt like it it was itchy and scratchy all over but she didnt dare to complain. She had settled down fomr her little break down and was now looking down to the ground. soon after a little more steps his mud covered shoes where in her sight again and she dared to look up. her green orbs now resed on her masters face. He was handsome for sure but the weather had carved his face to make it worn and dark.

She looked down again and gasped as she was still wearing his sword. Subconsiously she reached for the skin over her heart feeling a little drop of dried blood over her wound as it wasnt more that had come out of it. He could see ehr wither in the memory of the cold steel penetrating her skin and her small fowm started shivering.

"h-how may i serve you M-Master" she finally made to stutter and looked down to his feet. She was obediant for usre whether out of fear or out of guilt to offer herself like that.
 
He smiled at that... good. She had either already resigned to her fate or was making a supreme effort.

Of course, she might also be trying to get through the day, hoping she could get a chance to stab him in the night. He nearly grinned at that thought. Somehow, he couldn't picture her with a dagger in her hand... poised over his sleeping body, or anyone else's for that matter, ready to plunge it into his heart. No she wasn't capable of that. Of course, even if she was, she wouldn't be foolish enough to try it. The consequences far outweighed the rewards of such a course of action.

But he wanted to see just how much of an effort she was prepared to make. He pushed one booted foot closer to her knees, "Unfasten and remove them for me. You will then clean them both... they are filthy as you can see!" His boots were muddy from trudging through the muck all day long. And some of it had hardened and caked around the soles. His plan to get his men to clean it for him was all shot to bits anyways, he'd sent them off. But in his mind, some of it had been her fault too, so she should be the one to clean it. Plus, it was a demeaning task, fit for the lowliest servant. And she could begin with that.

"When you are done, come on up to my chambers and help me get the rest of my armor off." He then walked up the stairs to the upper levels, leaving her with his boots.
 
A feeling of sudden powerlessness overcame her body. her shoulders sunk as she grabbed the boots. She gaped immdiately she had difficulties to carry them both so she carried one by one. But wait she didnt know ehrre the water or any cloth was to clean them. she sniffled and noticed it had started raining again outside. It seemed she at least had a little luck.

She ran outside with one boot and waited untitl he rain had drenched the mud. Then she used her fingers to peel it off until nothing was left on the boot and it was all shiny again. The second boot followed the same fashion. By the time she was done her gown was all drenched and her frame shivering. But she considered it was safer than asking her master where water and cloth would have been. After a few minutes she knocked on the door of his chamber.

When he openned it he saw a girl dripping wet leavign a small puddly ont he ground yet she held out his boots to him shiny and clean propably cleaner than any of his men had gotten. She looked up and bowed weakly shivering all voer but she ignored the cold "im d-done my master" she said in a soft cracking voice just begging the dear god that she hadnt cought a cold outside in the cold rain.

"should i take off the rest of your armor now as you ordered or should i wiat?" she asked timidly and somehow feared the reply no matter what it would be. her tiny hands showed signs of the mud form the boots and he figure how she leaned them udging by her hands and the wet gown
 
It took him a moment to make sense of what he saw... drenched to her bones, she was even dripping all over his floor, she stood there with his boots. True, they were cleaner than he could remember, it seemed she was eager to do as told and also to do it well. Either it was fear that drove her or a hitherto undiscovered need for approval. He was pleased but he'd already told her that once today, no need to over do it. From the looks of things, she had used her bare hands and the rain to clean the mud. For a moment he even felt sorry for her.

Nonetheless, he steeled his gaze and said, "The boots are wet... dry them off before they rust.... dry yourself too while you are at it and stop dripping all over my floor!" He pointed to the hearth in his room, he'd just put a fresh log on the flames. Her clothes were drenched... it molded itself to her body leaving nothing at all to the imagination. He couldn't help but stare at her breasts... the cold and the rain making her nipples hard and prominent against the soft fabric of the gown. It clung to her belly and thighs highlighting her navel and the slight mound of her mons veneris. For a moment the lust she had woken within him was evident in his eyes, and his breathing became shallow, but he fought to control himself. He stepped away from her, giving her enough room to walk past him and into the chamber.

"When you are dry you will help me with my armor. And be sure to wipe the floor clean as well!" He shook his head as if in disgust and sat himself down on one of the large chairs in his room. He kept watching her... in fact, he couldn't take his eyes off her.
 
The shovering girl wasn't aware of his stares she she waddled to the fire kneeling down in front of it.In fact she was only aware of his complains about her work and she had to admit his complains where right. Her knees felt warm thanks to the fire and she shoved the boots as close to the fire as possible without being sure to burn herself when she would take them away after some time of letting the metal heat up. her small hands rubbed her upper arms to warm her up faster. there she kneeled for about one and a half hour until her frosnt was dry and her back was only a litttle wet.

Softly she rubbed her knees gaspoing some as she remembered the puddle on the ground. She had failed once already and didnt dare to ask for a cloth so she used her gown to wipe it away and simply sat down in front of the fire again until all was dry after turning her back to the fire.

She grabbed the now dry boots and arranced them next to her master looking up at him timidly "i-is this alright sir?" she whimpered crawling int he proces of coming fomr the fire to him as it wasnt so far and she had to kneel down when she reached him again anyway. He could see her swallow in fear of another disapproval. She hated being a slave but her father had taught her to do everything as best as possible so anyone who ever it might be was pleased. and that little rule was in fact all she had left form her father.

he could see down her cleavage from his position and would see she wasn't under deellopped in fact it like like she carried two soft warm round pillows beneeth her gown. as she had her eyes averted she didnt notice he coudl see her like that and waited for his udgement over her work and for the permission to continue
 
He watched her follow his every instruction, "Yes it is alright now... you are a good little slave girl aren't you?" he sneered at her, knowing full well she hated the term.

"Now you may help me with my armor." he says and rises to stand before her. "The greaves first... then the arm bands, shoulder plate and chest plate!"

As he stood towering over her, his eyes slipped to her neck and the creamy skin of her breasts that were revealed every time she leaned forward. The sight of her was exciting him and it was an effort not to grab her then and there and have his way with her body.. she wouldn't be able to refuse and even if she did... it wasn't like she had the strength to fight him off.

He shook his head trying to clear it of the image it was trying to conjure... a picture of her teary-eyed form, lying stretched out and exhausted on his bed... one leg bent, her clothes in tatters, ripped off by him, revealing a bruised thigh... arrgh!

He needed a bath. "You will also draw my bath afterwards... i keep a wooden tub for my use behind the screen there" he said indicating a wooden screen that covered one corner of the room.
 
sarah gasped and quickly got up to fetch water just like the maid had done with her bath before. Why she handt come to think of it while during the boots she didnt know but she coudlnt think about that right now. Swiftly she filled the tub behind the screena nd then fetched a few ogs that werent burning fully so she could grab them out of the fireplace. she placed them beneeth the tub to hear the mass of water. She had to be quick or it would be too hot.

Her figners fought witht eh leather strabr that held the plate armor in place finally making it to loosen them so she could take of his greaves. they were heavy and she placed them aside next to the boots. Then she got up to undo his arm bands this time it was a bit quicker as she now knew how it worked learning it fomr the greaves. Soon they where arranged next to said. ow the difficulty started. she had to reach up as he was talle rthan her and it was hard to reach the straps of the shoulder plates as they where hidden beneeth his arms. One second she wondered if he was ticklish but she didnt dare to find out. Finally she had the shoulderplate undoen as well. "im done son master one moment please" she begged nto waiting for him to comply she fetched the logs form beneath the now hot water and placed them back int he fire.

Then she ran over to him panting a little fomr the ruch she had been in and easily undid the straps of his chest plate. She waddled a bit under the weght of the iron then placed it downa s well and then returned to her kneeling position in front of him "i am done master....may i p-please beg you nto to call me slave...i-it hurts me. I knwo i deserve this punishment for my loud mouth but pleae dont use that word"she begged and then looked up for the first time seeing him without armor.
 
Kylar grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her up.. raising her till she was standing on tip toes... he looked deep into her emerald eyes and growled, "Get used to it slave... for that is what you are... and I will call you what I will!"

He pushed the girl against the wall and with a rough hand grabs one soft breast and squeezes hard, "Be grateful, I don't do worse." he says and drops her back down. Then turning away from her, he slides his tunic over his head and tosses it aside. He undoes the string of his britches and drops them as he steps out of 'em and turns to her stark naked. His powerful body ripples as he moves... the muscles of his chest pronounced and his abs clenching with each breath. His member stands at half mast, considering how much this girl was fueling his desire, he should've been thankful it wasn't a full hard on. But it only made him appear even larger to her eyes.

He looked at her gauging her reaction.. before turning to the bath and stepping into the tub. He lay back, letting the warmth of the water soak into his tired muscles. He closes his eyes for a moment and slides his head down under the water. He slides back out and turns his head to look at his little slave girl.
 
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