Dark Feather: A Dark Post Apocalyptic Romance (5 page)

Dropping back down the ridge, I raced back to camp despite my wounded leg.

“Rigby,” I called as soon as I had reached them. “The Penna have set up camp and have gangs of slaves working on it. They are vulnerable and their encampment has no walls. This is the time we should strike.”

The Cyan fighters exchanged keen glances. A chance to regain their honor stood upon the open icy land. It was a chance to gain plunder and glory by defeating an entire army. Rigby nodded slowly and the men grabbed their weapons. We would fight again this night. I steadied my resolve, the love of battle filling me, but the fear threatening to paralyze. I only hoped the love would win over my fear.

Three days had passed since the attack. We had successfully captured the Penna’s camp, regaining our honor as well as precious resources. I had remained largely out of the fight—completely against my will. Rigby made it very clear I was not to fight until I had healed. I had protested to no avail, leading him to threaten an actual spanking if I were to disobey. The audacity of the man, to treat me like a child! And yet, he was the commander, and I had no choice but to obey.

With the addition of new men to the Cyan force—when reinforcements arrived—the attitude toward me had changed. Before, I had been tolerated, if not accepted. Now, even the men whose lives I had saved condemned me. Since they despised a fighting Penna woman, I had taken to night patrols, even pitching my tent aside from the rest. Rigby disliked my withdrawal and ordered me to stay near camp, or once again, another spanking would be in order. The ridiculousness of his sanction tested my resolve to follow any further dictates. He wouldn’t dare.

The sun had just set. Cool breezes whispered across the hills of snow. The camp was loud, shattering the natural stillness of the icy land and frightening away the few creatures that still clung to this harsh existence.

I rose, slipping carefully away from my tent. Leaping the low wall, I headed into the frozen hills. In the stillness of the night, I treasured my freedom. The ability to scout and fight without judgment had been taken away, but they could not stop me from scouting and practicing in secret.

After walking fifteen minutes away from camp, I stopped at the top of a large ridge. The surrounding icy land was open to my gaze, nothing moving but snow and wind. I inhaled, stretching slowly. The clear breeze carried just a hint of death. Only the brightest stars were visible, snow from the wind partially obscuring the faintest ones.

Finishing my stretch, I drew my sword and began practicing. Back and forth across the ridge, I thrust and parried, fighting an imaginary opponent. All my skills were gained that way—shadow fighting. Sometimes an imaginary opponent was harder to fight than a real one. As the moon rose, its glow silvering the snow, I switched weapons.

Doubled axes first. I spun across the ridge, slashing and hacking through imaginary men. First high and then low, defending with one and then with the other. I practiced until my muscles ached. It was my first real exercise since I had been wounded, mostly because Rigby would not let me out of his sight. I smiled again, nearly laughing. They probably all thought I was daintily asleep like a good little woman.

Sheathing the two throwing axes, I again stretched to ease my muscles and paused before starting my practice with the larger, two-handed axe. The icy land was still, stiller than it had been before. Even the breeze had lightened and was barely stirring the snow.

I drew the two-handed axe and began. I focused on attacking and strength training. The snow dunes were soft enough and didn’t dull the axe head too badly when I struck them. So I worked, striking the blade into the snow mounds as if I were cleaving armor.

But it was useless. No matter how I practiced and punished my body, I could not drive the nagging thoughts from my mind—Rigby and his words on submission. Why was the man looming in my thoughts?

“Why?” I gasped, striking hard at the snowy banks. “Why must a woman submit?” As the question whirled, my anger grew, and so did my strength. I fought the banks until my might gave out and I collapsed, exhausted, upon the sloped side of my latest conquest.

Rolling over, I watched an anthropod scuttling across the ridge. It was hunting, seeking and finding nothing. Its movements were swift as its almost transparent body scurried nearly invisibly across the snow. Suddenly it pounced, drawing out its prey from under a chunk of ice. After pausing, it scurried on, seeking more.

Life on the icy land was like that, I realized. Everyone was always seeking something. Yet when they had found some of what they sought, they could not enjoy it, nor did it satisfy them. Instead, they scuttled on, hurrying through life while trying to find that little bit more before death claimed them. Was that all there was to look forward to in this life? Training, fighting, exhausting oneself, only to rest for a bit before scurrying on to the next encampment, the next battle. Surely there had to be more, something to make all this worthwhile. Something that a woman might find with a man like… No, I was so not going there!

I sighed, preparing to head back to the camp. If I were found outside of it, I feared that Rigby would punish me—or worse, constantly guard me like a prisoner. He had warned me that I was to limit the use of my leg and to stay nearby. He actually said he would sting my backside with his hand until I never questioned his authority again.

“Tudor,” came Rigby’s voice, stopping me as I prepared to rise. “Did you think you could slip out of camp without anyone following?” The torch he held in his hand highlighted his masculine features.

Defenses raised, I rose and faced him. “I don’t believe it’s any of your business if I leave camp or not. I have scouted ahead plenty of times without a problem, and we have no enemies near enough to worry about.”

“It is not the Penna that I’m worried about, but your safety in general. The men haven’t been around a woman in a very long time. If one of them sees you alone, I think even my warning won’t keep them away.”

I bristled, anger brimming, then overflowing at Rigby. “And I suppose you think it is your duty to protect me? And that I’m a weak-willed woman who cannot tell one end of a blade from the other? Perhaps you think I’m helpless too? Even a whore?” I was shaking now, ill-prepared to understand how those I’d fought alongside could now relegate me to the status of helpless burden.

“It is what the men think, not what I think, that matters.”

“I care what you believe more than what the men think. You are their commander, after all, and if you ever let me fight again, you are also mine.”

“Yes, I am your commander, and yet you disobeyed me.” His eyes darkened.

The way he stared caused me to take pause. “I needed to train. I have to work twice as hard to compete with all you arrogant asses.”

Rigby walked toward me so he towered mere inches from my rapidly beating heart. He placed the torch into the snow beside us. “What did I tell you, Tudor?”

I swallowed the lump in the back of my throat. “To rest my leg. But my leg is fine, I assure you.”

“And?” His stare bored into me.

“To stay near camp.”

“What else did I say?”

I raised my head so I stared directly in his eyes. “That you would spank me, sir. But you can’t possibly stand by your words.”

Rigby grabbed me firmly by the arm and pulled me down to the snow so I was on all fours. “Yes, I am a man of my word.” Before I could even protest, he pulled up my tunic and yanked down the remaining fabric that covered my naked buttocks. “Stay on your hands and knees, or your punishment will be far worse.”

I looked over my shoulder in shock. “You can’t be serious! You expect me to just allow this?” The snow stung my bare knees, and the light breeze wafted over my damp sex. I was completely exposed to his view, as well as his touch. I knew I would have a fighting chance to resist this spanking if I chose to, but something from deep within held me in position.

He answered with a firm swat to my naked flesh, and then three more before I even knew what was happening. I tried to collapse to my stomach to avoid the spanking. He pulled me back up and said, “You just earned yourself more of a punishment. Stay in position.”

I turned my head to stare into his eyes before he swatted me a few more times. The biting sting of his hand caused me to gasp for breath. “Rigby, please! This has gone far enough!”

“No, my foolish warrior. You will learn that you are not to question my command, my orders, or my concern for your well-being.”

Concern for my well-being?
It had been quite some time since anyone had cared about me in any way—if ever.

The spanking continued, and I did everything I could to remain in place. The palms of my hands, my knees, and my ass screamed for mercy. My wounded leg was the least of my discomfort at this time.

Rigby’s palm continued to pepper my backside. Each slap to my exposed bottom brought an alarming desire I couldn’t contain. His dominance milked the wetness from my deepest core. I pressed my legs together, desperately hoping he wouldn’t see the moisture dripping down my inner thigh. My body rocked forward with each searing swat, causing my nipples to rub against the fabric of my tunic. My body buzzed with life, even as my ass blazed with heat.

“Rigby! Rigby, I said stop! That hurts!”

“You are a woman, Tudor. A beautiful, exquisite woman.” He paused spanking me for a moment, a dead silence in the air. “I admire your strength. I respect your ability to fight. But you are still a woman.”

I looked over my shoulder with daggers in my eyes. “So what if I am a woman?” I spat. “Does that mean I should
submit
, as you say? Never!”

Rigby continued to spank at a quick rate. “Yes, my warrior. Yes!” His hand slapped one cheek and then the next. He covered every inch of skin until tears streamed down my face. He paused the punishment again. “There is nothing wrong with submission, Tudor. A strong warrior, and an even stronger woman, would understand that.”

Finally, he stopped the assault, stood up fully, and assisted me to a standing position. I quickly adjusted my clothing and stared at the ground. Looking at him now would cause such embarrassment. The act had humiliated me. Not because of the discipline, but because of how it lit my body with a passion I never knew existed.

He tilted my chin with his finger so I had to look into his eyes. “When I give an order, I will trust you will obey it.”

“Yes, sir,” I whispered.

“I will not hesitate to discipline you again in whatever manner I deem fit.”

I nodded, causing Rigby to drop his hand from my chin.

“You may be able to fight, but you are still an unclaimed woman. You do not belong to a man and, therefore, are vulnerable for the taking. Your safety is my concern.”

I collapsed back on the ridge, strength and the will to fight leaving me suddenly. “Then what am I to do? If I remain a soldier, unclaimed, I must be guarded as someone of weakness. What can I do, Rigby?”

I waited, staring expectantly at him. Seeing that he had my full attention, Rigby continued. “Do you wish to be claimed?”

“I wish to fight.”

“I see. So you wish to die?”

“I wish to live… fully.”

Rigby paused, finally sitting down alongside me in the snow. Leaning forward, he moved closer to my body, just enough to help ward off the wind that had begun to lift more snow crystals into the air. I lay back, resting against the ridge. The stars were dim now, the light of the moon and the swirling snow flurries nearly eclipsing all the stars, even the wandering ones.

He sighed before speaking with his eyes fixed on the snow mounds ahead. “I’ve watched you from afar for the last few months, and my respect for you has only increased while being your commander. But I also watch you in battle with a terror I have never known. I fear your death, and I fear losing you.” He took a deep breath and added, “I have feelings for you. I see you as more than just a soldier under my command.”

I twisted, staring at Rigby in disbelief, light from the moon casting haunting shadows around us. I had been taught that adoration was rarely found among the ones who died by blade. Doing so could lead to your own death. You fought for your own life and only concerned yourself with surviving the battle.

Rigby continued. “I don’t know if there is a Penna way of doing things, and I don’t want to insult you. But I would like to make you mine. I want you, Tudor.”

I spoke, my voice shaking, and his close proximity did nothing to dispel the pounding within my chest. “I am no longer a Penna. My family is dead.” I paused and tried to find the right words, but the awkwardness of the conversation made my insides quiver. “What do you mean by ‘mine’?”

“The Cyan believe in claiming a woman first, and then ultimately finalizing that claim by uniting in marriage. Do the Penna marry?”

I shook my head. “No. Not anymore. That belief is considered archaic.”

Rigby laughed. “Archaic to commit for life?”

I smiled, grateful that the awkward air seemed to be lifting a little. “Yes, extremely archaic. The Penna believe in science, and black and white facts. Emotions do not belong anywhere in the equation. Love is not something that adds value to progression. The only reason a man and woman unite is for the purpose of breeding. To continue the Penna line. You don’t need marriage for that to occur.”

“So no one loves each other?” Rigby looked shocked by this information.

“No. What purpose does that serve?”

“Is there no pleasure allowed?”

I shrugged. “I assume pleasure occurs during the breeding process, but love does not.”

“That’s a shame,” Rigby said in a soft voice. “Another reason I am happy you are no longer a Penna. I would like to someday give you pleasure and love.”

“You would?” I wasn’t sure how to respond or act to Rigby’s words. They were so direct—just like him—and they were so true and honest. I felt I owed him the same in return.