Dare to Defy (14 page)

“Ethan is an evil man. If he takes rulership of the southern kingdom, what little hope is left there will be abolished,” she spoke aloud.

“True. You and I will stop him. Open,” Draiken said, bringing a piece of roasted pheasant to her lips. Daynel nipped his finger playfully, smiling as he murmured an obscenity.

“Did that hurt the mighty dragon?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood. Draiken grunted, this time using a utensil to feed her. Her squirming alerted him to another need.

“Do you have to use the chamber pot?” he asked bluntly. Daynel blushed, shaking her head. Draiken shrugged, “Very well. But you will have need of it eventually. And you will require my assistance.”

“Is there not a woman in this temple who can assist me with my personal care?”

“Even if there was one available, she would refuse. I am considered your husband in the eyes of the gods; therefore, it is my right and responsibility to tend to you in all manners. Just as you would be expected for me.”

“I will not have you see to my toileting. That is far too personal.”

“You have no choice in this. Must I swaddle you like an infant? I will if you pursue your stubbornness.”

“To think I was just starting to believe you might be less offensive than I originally thought! You are boorish and pushy, and I will not tolerate being treated in such a manner. You need to learn that I will not spare you the edge of my tongue should you continue to act without regard or reservation.”

“You are aware that I could suspend you over the chamber pot with your bottom bare and keep you there indefinitely, yes?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“I certainly would. Would you care to witness as I carry this through? I assure you that such a predicament would be more embarrassing than if you just allowed me to place you where needed.”

“I am
not
a baby!”

“Then stop behaving like one,” Draiken said simply, lifting her in his arms as he stood gracefully. He carried her to the closet where a polished board with a large hole carved from the center hung over a wide-brimmed circular bucket. Gently, he sat her upon the board and easily removed the dangling undergarments from her ankles. A single eyebrow lifted as she protested the absence of the underthings that had not been put back into place since her spanking.

“Leave,” she ordered, crossing her left arm over the injured right one in a pout.

“No,” he responded, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched her. Daynel blushed every shade of red as she fought not to release the contents of her bladder in front of him. Even as a child, Ilesbet had seen to her toileting, but never her brother. At least, not since she had left swaddling clothes.

“Please. Go away.”

“No.”

Daynel stared at the tiled floor, realizing that she probably appeared to be little more than a young child before this powerful, and very large, man. Bare from the waist down, her feet dangled a good six inches from the floor, her right lower leg bound snugly in a split. She was adorned in a thin, oversized, and sleeveless shirt that, had she stood, would likely fall to her knees. Her breasts bobbed against the soft material, making her nipples harden to pebbly nibs. She looked up at him, her large, blue eyes begging for pity. Nothing softened his resolve. He simply waited.

The sound of her release striking the empty bucket startled her and she found herself unable to stop the flow once it began. Humiliated at his pleased smile, Daynel stared into her lap, wishing she could disappear from sight.

“Do you need to do more?” he asked, unbothered by her embarrassment. Daynel shook her head, unable to meet his eye. He chuckled, taking a damp cloth and pushing her thighs apart so that he could clean her. His fingers brushed her sex and she shivered with a chill of desire.

“Your obedience pleases me,” Draiken announced, lifting her from the bench and hoisting her upon his right hip, his hands cupping her bottom.

“It was not obedience, it was necessity. There is a difference.”

“True, and the knowledge that you are aware of the difference pleases me as well. Should I reward you?”

“Reward me? I defied you.”

“In the beginning, but you did comply with what I asked.” He placed her on the bed carefully, tucking the blankets around her trim body. Kissing her lips, he gazed into her eyes. “I must see to my flock, but I will return. You shall reap your reward then.”

Daynel watched him exit the room, his broad shoulders barely fitting through the doorway. The room seemed so large with him gone, as though his presence took up the space needed for light to touch the walls. There was only one way she could describe Draiken’s room. Intimidatingly warm. Aged polished woods gleamed with a deep, mellow glow that gave the senses a feeling of home. The overtly large furnishings were simple and practical, yet obviously made by a craftsman who put his heart into his work. She recalled the seat in the chamber closet; even that was polished and smooth. The linens covering her body were soft and decorated only with simple embroidered stitches. She chuckled, studying them. Neither she, nor Ilesbet, had a hand for the fine art of stitchery and had spent hours groaning over performing “ladies’ chores” of darning and painfully attempting to adorn the king’s linens. Ilesbet had whispered to her one afternoon that as long as she was hopeless with a needle, she would never be expected to sit quietly for hours darning by candlelight. King Rufus had come to their rescue, assigning both a ladies’ maid who could also sew. His reason was the constant holes in his stockings, and the blisters that followed after his ladies mended them.

She thought of her sister-in-law, the woman who had been the closest thing to a mother since she could remember. Ilesbet had tried to teach her some of the ways of a lady. Mostly though, Ilesbet taught her things that were needed to survive, just as Günter had done. How to run a household, how to interview a worker, the way to decide the right and wrong in a disagreement, and the proper way to treat a husband. Günter was Ilesbet’s lord and master, and she happily served him every chance she had. Daynel watched the couple as she grew older, seeing the example set before her of what was true and right in the ways of marriage. How could that even work with Draiken? Their personalities were so different or, perhaps, too much the same.

She continued to look about the room, gathering more of the man’s personality from how he lived. He was prudent, practical, and wasted no effort on frivolities, yet he had a keen eye for balance and comfort. The room reminded her much of the hunting cabin that the boys would take her to during the short northern summers. The only exception was the firm feather mattress and fluffy down pillows that adorned Draiken’s bed. These were a rare treat, even for the well-to-do, and only King Rufus was blessed with such in the castle.

A ray of light reflected through the window, lighting the far wall in golden amber. A simple altar was set there, unadorned, holding only a candle, a bowl of figs, and a leather case that housed a Rune pole. Ilesbet kept a similar altar, although hers was more ornate and appealed to the feminine side of her deities. Daynel felt her chest tighten, suddenly missing her home and her family. Would she ever see them again? Would she ever have the chance to beg forgiveness from her elderly father for challenging every rule he set forth? Would she be able to see her young cousins grow into men and have families of their own? And Günter…would she ever see him upon the throne, reigning over the northland as was his birthright?

“Is that sadness I see in your eyes, little one?” Draiken’s low voice asked as he entered the room unannounced.

“I was thinking of my family and how much I took them for granted. Will I ever see them again?” Daynel asked in a tiny voice, looking up into the deep violet eyes with hope.

Draiken smiled gently, placing a finger under her chin. “Yes. When our task is completed we will all be reunited. Does that promise bring joy to your heart?”

“Yes, much joy. I know you cannot tell me when though, can you?”

“No. I have not been given vision of the time yet. Before we can rescue the south from evil, you must learn to See, and how and when to use your powers. I will be teaching you.”

“Ilesbet told me that the powers of the high priestess are different from the high priest, and that the priestess holds more power and control than her male counterparts. If I am truly to be a priestess, should she not teach me?”

“The time for her teaching you is past. I have asked the gods for guidance and wisdom and trust that they will offer their assistance as required. They have also instructed me to start your lessons tonight.”

“I need sleep. My arm…”

“Be at peace,” Draiken chuckled, seeing the fearful look in her eyes, “not all lessons require the acceptance of pain or the shedding of blood. Tonight, you will experience joy and, through that, you will be given Sight.”

“Your riddles confuse me.”

“Be silent now, for the time of sacrifice is coming near,” Draiken said, watching as the sun dipped into the horizon, bathing the room with a deep, golden red glow. Daynel felt her body rise off the bed, once again suspended in mid-air. And again, invisible hands restrained her from all movement, including the ability to speak. She inhaled sharply as the sensation of hands began to caress the entirety of her body, touching and exploring every inch of skin. The shirt she was wearing was lifted from her body, leaving her naked flesh fully exposed to Draiken’s eyes.

“Your skin glows like a warm ember in this light, my love. You are beautiful to behold.”

Invisible gags made her ability to respond impossible. Daynel watched him approach her, his palms held inches from her skin. Without touching her body, she could almost feel the warmth of his hands upon her. Was heat emanating from him or was that her imagination? Her nipples hardened and tingled under his gaze as he swept his palms slowly along the length of her body, still not touching. As he did this, the invisible hands made themselves busy with stroking beneath her, focusing on her buttocks and the delicate crease that protected her most private entryway. Daynel gasped as the sensation of a finger slid into her bottom hole.

“There is no pain, only pleasure. Allow the feelings to engulf you and enjoy,” Draiken commanded, standing between her spreading thighs as she floated before him. Daynel groaned as the ghost-finger in her bottom began to slowly pump within her and the sensation of mouths found their way to her breasts. suckling and nibbling the sensitive buds. The feeling of more mouths upon her throat, ears, inner arms, and behind her knees bombarded her senses. Draiken smiled at her reaction, allowing her to be the centerpiece of a sensual orgy. His mouth joined the others, dipping into her womanly sweetness and pleased to discover her willingness to receive him. His tongue rolled slowly over her swelling clit, pausing to suckle gently upon the pink knob. Her mews of delight pleased him and he ran his mouth to kiss, nibble, and lick the inside of her thighs and the folds of her flesh. He skimmed his lips along her slick pink garden, awed at the sparseness of golden hair adorning it. What she had was downy and soft, and so pale it was almost unseen. His tongue once again found the throbbing nub and he added pressure to his suction as he drew her deeper into his mouth. As he sucked, he pressed her clit toward his palate with his tongue, nursing upon her bud as though he was seeking a treasure from within it. He felt her harden in his mouth and stiffening as the time of her joy closed in. Harder he sucked, careful not to cause her pain while all the time pumping the invisible finger in and out of her bottom.

Daynel arched her body in unbridled passion, her senses launching to the distant stars as the orgasm claimed her soul. She soared above the heavens, arms stretched wide, twirling and gliding in flight as the tidal waves of elation crashed around her. Her arms turned into wings and lit on fire, their blazing beauty lighting the black sky. She felt true freedom and tears of joy leapt from her eyes.

She knew the vision was not reality, yet she was not eager to return to the confines of the solid world. Slowly her wings changed again to arms as she circled toward the earth, lifted gently by warm thermals as she made her descent. Closer and closer she came to the temple in which her body laid in waiting for the return of her spirit. She could see it, now resting upon the feather mattress and damp with the afterglow of Draiken’s reward. With an unwilling sigh, she reentered.

“That,” she whispered, “was the most amazing experience of my life.”

“Can you share what you were shown?” Draiken asked, wiping her face with a cool cloth. Daynel accepted a sip of wine before sharing the details of her flight. She was surprised by Draiken’s reaction. It was one of worry.

“Are you certain that you were armed with fire?”

“Yes, but I did not feel the heat. Just the freedom. What is wrong?”

“It is an omen, beloved. It means that you will start a war.”

“But we already knew that we would be fighting Ethan…”

“No, Daynel. A war with the gods. You will defy them.”

Daynel stayed silent. Somehow, his words held no surprise for her ears.

Ethan roared angrily as he withdrew his sword from the heart of the guard who had allowed Daynel’s escape. It was the fifth man he had killed in his rage that day, after promising the head of any man who he even suspected might have played a part in her flight for freedom.

“The little cunt bewitched you all!” he shouted, swinging the sword in the air. “Every one of you betrayed me in hopes you would get between those legs!”

No one dared correct him, silently eyeing one another fearfully. Ethan was growing more restless and irritable by the day and this event set him off in an uncontrollable killing spree. The morning guard, peering through the small opening in the hatch, had noticed Daynel’s body had not moved during the storm and raised his suspicion that something was amiss. Entering the cabin, he took care not to talk to or touch her, and promptly discovered a piling of pillows and a small chair under the blanket in lieu of the girl. He reported her absence immediately, disbelieving that she could have gone out the tiny window and obtained a longboat without aid. A thorough search was performed before bringing the matter to Ethan, whose first reaction was to slay the bearer of the news. He then demanded the names of any crewmen who still worshipped the gods and called them before him. The three men lost their heads within minutes of presenting themselves, with Ethan shouting blame for supporting the girl’s source of power. He cared not that they were in the bilges and knew nothing of her presence onboard the vessel. Insanity gleamed through his eyes as he proclaimed himself king and promised to destroy the northern realm and take the people and land as his own as payment for having to deal with the king’s slut. He then issued a proclamation that any subject—man, woman, or child—who uttered a prayer or proclaimed a belief in any god would be immediately put to death by burning upon a roasting spit. The terror-stricken crewmen simply nodded, not knowing how long it would be before he found a reason to murder each of them.