Possessions Ch. 06

When a passerby saw her, covered as she was in blood, they had assumed she was injured. The newest Captain, Milier, had claimed that she hadn't been breathing when he ordered her body left in the bed next to her husband to be prepared. When she had woken, her body had seemed not her own. She turned her head to look at the man she loved more than life itself. The man who had cared for her unconditionally since even before their marriage. The man who had entertained her girlish innocence and exuberance when she had sent him letters filled with questions daily during their betrothal, returning each one and answering each question. The man who had happily catered to her every whim simply to see her smile. The man who had indulged her moods and tempers. Eventually, her mind reeling, she rolled into that man and sobbed, trying to make his lifeless arms hold her as they always had anytime she was upset. She pulled at his clothing, yelled at him, demanded that he wake and hold her, comfort her.

She didn't know how long she'd been allowed to lie there with his corpse before Allek, her husband's second in command, had returned from the front, victorious in battle, and heard the news. He had come into the tent to ensure the bodies were properly seen to and was shocked to find her alive. It had taken him hours to pull her away as she hissed vile words and clung to her husband. Everything was a blur in her memory and she wasn't particularly interested in sharpening the images.

Milier, she'd been told later, had been less than forthcoming in explaining why she was there, alive, with her husband's body and, even more importantly, why he had left the battle. At least until Ehrik had arrived. She'd been transported to Ehrik's keep, and any further details had not been shared with her.

She had been almost halfway through her pregnancy when Melil had pulled her from her melancholy.

After a small breakfast, where she ate what she wanted and wasn't berated for it, Sarantha was given a quick bath. After she was dried, a sweet scented oil was rubbed into her skin and used to massage her body. Just like before, they skipped only her breasts, belly, and intimate region. Unlike before, when she expressed discomfort with the pressure used, the masseuses eased the strength used and didn't chide her for complaining. One of the servants sat with her on the floor and showed her stretches to imitate, but nobody pressed her body beyond comfort. She was dressed in a comfortable dress that allowed her to move freely. When she said she didn't want to wear cosmetics, nobody argued with her, demanding that she be "presentable". After she was ready for the day, all of the servants left except for Melil, who busied herself straitening and cleaning the room. Eventually even she left.

Oh, what the difference the absence of one horrible woman made!

All through the morning, though, Sarantha's gaze kept drifting over to her new slave, Trivalm, where he laid on his bed. She couldn't figure out why he was so unhappy. He wasn't chained; she gave him freedom of movement. She'd allowed him to walk with Ebon and Ivory, trusting him to behave. He ate well. Well, when he chose to, but nutritious food was always offered to him. He was bathed daily, which, according to several others, was not normal for the slaves in his country. She even let him be pleasured by her Ivory! Yet, he continued to fight her at every turn. His life was better here, but he didn't seem to realize that. Did he know what had become of the other War Generals who had been left in his country? Did he realize that with the exception of the five War Generals who had been given as tribute, every other General had been executed by the new King? She doubted it. Which would go a long way in explaining his resistance.

Briefly, Sarantha wondered if the Generals knew the real reasons behind the War, but doubted it. Even if she told them, would they would believe her? She remembered their rage when Alaliya had insulted their Queen. Raikol had become so enraged that he had struck his Mistress in defense of a woman he should have no longer held loyalty to. No, she decided, they wouldn't believe her. So there was no point telling them. It was sure to enrage them and cause them to act out even more. Which would in turn force more restrictions on them. Which would cause them act out even more and require punishment.

No. She wouldn't tell them. Leave all that nonsense to Ehrik. She just wanted her slave settled and happy so they could all settle into their lives.

She fleetingly considered letting Alaliya deal with him until the child was born, but she didn't want him to have too many abrupt changes in such a short time. Slaves, like pets, benefited from stability, routines and consistency. He would never settle in and do well if he didn't have them. It was difficult enough right now, considering she didn't even have them, and therefore couldn't give them to him. When the child came, there would be no consistency for anybody.

Sarantha smiled at Trivalm as his head lolled toward her. He hadn't taken enough herb to harm him, though he would be slightly disoriented for a couple of hours and more than slightly aroused. Even in his stupor, though, he was able to snarl at her, his rage showing clearly in his eyes.

Sarantha could admit that he perhaps had something to be upset about. His body would be uncomfortable, but she anytime she noticed her slave's back bowing, or his cock filling and stiffening, she would instruct Ivory to see to his comfort. He should have been grateful. It would have been a far harsher punishment for her to allow his body to yearn for release and not receive it. It would have been fitting for the way he had so carelessly pulled on Ivory's hair.

When he turned his head away she frowned. She hadn't planned on letting him know about the herbs. She had planned on gradually lessening the amount he was given until eventually he wouldn't need them at all. How had he found out about them? She knew Ebon hadn't told him. Ehrik and Allek weren't happy about what she was doing, but they wouldn't have betrayed her trust or undermined her to one of her slaves. That only left the other two, Raikol and Drimelk. But how would they have known about them?

She sighed. She also had to deal with Drimelk. He had looked so heartbroken that she had made him a promise and now she would have to convince her brother to let her keep it. Perhaps when Drimelk was happier, well adjusted, Trivalm would see that and start to settle in a bit. If he kept acting out the way he was, speaking so disrespectfully and putting on displays the way he had that morning, he was going to end up getting himself punished. She didn't want that.

She wasn't stupid. She knew he just needed to adjust. She also knew he wasn't weak, not of body or mind. He would stubbornly cling to what he thought felt was right, which right now seemed to be resisting being a proper and obedient slave. If he didn't behave so he could be assigned regular duties, he would be bored, which would give him time to overthink. Which would make him upset about his new station in life and cause him to act out. Which would make him be punished. The circular logic wasn't lost on Sarantha.

But Sarantha just wanted him to be happy. The way her Ebon was. She sighed, hoping it wouldn't take Trivalm as long to settle as it had taken Ebon. Nobody else knew that Ebon used to be a soldier. He had told her the information, and she had sworn to keep it secret for him, though she wasn't naïve enough to think he had given it freely. His skin was dark enough that it made it easy for him to move around in the dark unnoticed. He hadn't held a rank, only a job. It worried Sarantha at first, having no idea how many people he had tortured or killed. But then again, she realized, she had no idea how many people her husband or brother-in-law had killed. When she had bought him, her husband had been enraged. Ebon had been chained and caged, pulling at his bonds until his wrists, ankles, and neck bled. Even so, Sarantha hadn't seen the dangerous animal that the others had. Instead she saw the split second he had calmed when his charcoal eyes had landed on her Ivory, another slave she'd been told was a lost cause. It took months but eventually he had calmed. Once he had shared such condemning information, Sarantha decide to give him a reward. She told him that Ivory was to be his responsibility, and he instantly seemed a completely different person, sweet and gentle. Though, she had no doubt he retained his skill, especially when bodies or injured people were found after a less than positive encounter with Ivory. It was obvious to anybody who saw the two that he adored her, loved her even.

Sarantha suddenly sat up, earning her curious gazes from her slaves. Her eyes lit up as an idea struck her. The reason why Ebon was able to be happy, and Trivalm was not. For all intents and purposes, Ivory belonged to Ebon. Yes, they were both Sarantha's slaves, and she adored her pet, but she knew that in Ebon's mind, Ivory was his. His to care for. His to protect. He was constantly busy seeing after her. He had even cautioned Sarantha against letting a War General near Ivory, expressing his displeasure over and over. He'd even fallen to his knee and begged her to reconsider after she'd announced that her new slave would help care for her pet. Trivalm didn't have anything, nothing to call his own. He had nothing to care for and therefore nothing to distract him.

The King had arrived today, albeit unannounced. Even so, that meant that several of the nearest slave traders would find their way to the Keep to try to impress him with their wares. It would be the perfect time to find her new little slave a pet of his own.

Perfect!

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Instead of accompanying Ehrik and the Captain to greet their King, Alaliya went to the room next to hers that Raikol and Drimelk shared. She opened the door without knocking, not surprised to find Allek already there and trying to ready the slaves who, it appeared, were less than enthusiastic.

"Bring them to be bathed and clothed, then bring them back here. After they are ready, go help Sarantha with the other one. The King will want to see them after midday meal, if he doesn't demand to see them now. Hopefully Trivalm will be clear headed by then."

"What is wrong with Trivalm?" Raikol demanded, making no attempt to hide his concern.

She turned toward the slave. As much as she wanted nothing more than to strike him, she managed to restrain herself. When she spoke, her words were slow and hissed. "Remember your place." She raised her eyebrows expectantly even as her eyes met Raikol's angry ones. Looking down at Raikol's clenched fists, she gave that tinkling laugh that the Generals were quickly learning to hate. "Do you think to strike me again?" She ran her fingers over her still discolored eye, pointedly looking at the marks still covering Raikol's exposed skin. She knew that many more bruises decorated his torso, hidden from her. "I'm not sure you can take another beating, slave. I'm not sure that is even what my husband would offer. Is it that you are not overly attached to your hands or is it that you have simply forgotten your Master's promise?"

"Mistress," Drimelk spoke before Raikol's cold reply, stopping him from saying something that would no doubt lead to much more pain for him, "Please tell us what is wrong with Trivalm. We worry for him."

"Better. Just barely, but better." She couldn't help rolling her eyes. "His Mistress chose to help him relax by way of herbs. He acted out and she increased the amount. Significantly." At the worried look on both slaves' faces, she waved her hand dismissively.

"May I ask, Mistress, what herbs?" Drimelk, asked the question when he saw Raikol open his mouth, no doubt to pose the question in a way that would be much less appreciated by the already irritated woman.

"You may ask. But I won't answer." Alaliya smirked at the glares she received from both slaves. "I don't believe he woke up and suddenly figured it out on his own. One of you noticed his behavior and told him."

"Madam Keeper?" Allek ventured, "I mean no disrespect, but perhaps such conversations could be delayed? It would be ill advised to keep the King waiting should he call for them earlier than expected."

Even though Allek spoke respectfully and was right, Alaliya felt her ire rise. Instead of unleashing it, she turned and stalked away, calling over her shoulder, "See them bathed and dressed. Now!"

She slammed the door behind her.

Instead of going to see to preparations for everything regarding the King's arrival, Alaliya walked back to her room. She was irritated to find several servants and slaves there, cleaning the room and turning down the bed.

"Out. All of you. Now." Goddess, why did they look at her like she'd lost her mind? Why was it so unheard of that she would want a few moments to herself?

When they were all finally gone, she brought her fingers to her temple to try to relieve the pounding. She didn't want to see the King. She hated seeing the King. And now, today, after the latest nightmare, she didn't know if she was capable of it.

She sat at her vanity, looking at herself. She barely recognized the woman looking back at her. Where was the woman who had gazed at her from the mirror just last night, smiling as her husband kissed her neck and remarked on the golden woman waiting while kneeling on their bed. This woman was different. Her eyes were dull with bags under them, announcing her lack of sleep. One of them was still blackened. She was pale from both fatigue and having skipped her morning meal. The lines around her eyes and mouth seemed a little deeper, broadcasting her worry and discomfort.

She picked up a jar of kohl and a brush, but simply set it back down. It seemed like too difficult of a task at the moment, the ordinarily simple task of applying cosmetics. She stared down at her selection of powders, not really seeing them.

Oh sweet Goddess, help her, she couldn't do this today. She prayed that her husband would understand her absence and make excuses for her. She knew he would, actually, but would the King accept them?

There was a knock at the door and it opened before she called permission. She rounded, jumping to her feet, ready to berate and severely punish whoever was stupid enough to do such a thing as enter her chamber without permission. When Melil walked in followed by several slaves, Alaliya sat back down.

Melil ignored her, instructing the slaves to see to a bath and fresh linens on the bed. Alaliya couldn't help but give a wry smirk. Melil would make an amazing Keeper. She was efficient and brooked no argument when things needed doing, accepting nothing but quick, effective action. She would have more than earned both Ehrik and Alaliya's respect even if she hadn't been Kriel's wife. She was only a year older than Alaliya, but seemed to be so much more maternal, caring for everyone around her and radiating a warm comfort that Alaliya herself could never hope to possess.

Within moments, the bath was full, making Alaliya believe that the clever servant had already had the water heating. Alaliya didn't wait to be ushered, but disrobed herself and sank into the blessedly hot water.

Melil turned to the two slaves still in the room finishing the bed. "Let her soak a bit while you finish, then see her properly washed and relaxed. After you've dried her, rub oil into her skin and massage the tension out. If she isn't a puddle on the bed by the time her husband returns, you haven't completed your duties properly and I will be sure your Master is notified." And with that she left, having not spoken a single word to Alaliya.

Once Alaliya's bath water began to cool, she motioned for the slave to cleanse her. The slaves, obviously familiar with Melil's expectations, followed their instructions flawlessly. As soon as Alaliya was clean she stepped from the water. Not standing still for the girls to dry her skin, she walked to her bed and fell into its comfort. She pulled Ehrik's pillow to her and, burying her head in the fabric, inhaled the soothing scent of her husband.

Skilled hands slick with scented oil immediately began to knead into her sore muscles. Before long the stress began to melt away, and exhaustion overcame her, forcing her toward sleep.

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She had no idea how long she floated in that dreamlike state. All she knew was that every time she started to surface, pain would streak through her, and another ball of bitter herbs would be pressed between her lips. She didn't need the instructions; she simply swallowed it. Each time she came closer to consciousness, though, the pain seemed less and less. Eventually, when she would stir, whoever was caring for her let her rise.

She looked around the small room she was in. It was small enough that she could lie along each wall and raise her arms and be able to touch both the adjoining walls. The bed she laid on was nothing like she was used to. It was raised off of the floor and piled with furs instead of the fine fabric blankets to which she was accustomed. The only other furniture in the room was a small table holding a pitcher of water and a single cup.

As soon as she saw it, she realized how thirsty she was. She snatched the already filled cup and drained it. The water soothed her sore throat. Eagerly, she brought the pitcher to her lips. She was so distracted gulping the cool liquid that she didn't notice the Dungeon Mistress enter until she set a tray of food on the table and sat on the bed next to her.

The woman just laughed as Alaliya tried to correct her behavior. "Please, child, drink as much as you like. Thirst is an unfortunate side effect of the herb you were given. You will not feel hunger, but your body needs the nourishment. Eat."

Alaliya did as she had been taught to her whole life: she obeyed.

As she ate the Dungeon Mistress spoke. "The slave that brought you here did me a kindness in the past. He asked that I care for you in return." She paused, as if waiting for Alaliya to comment. When she was met with silence, she sighed. "You were brought up not to question, but I will tell you, as much as has reached my ears anyway."

Alaliya lost all thought of food or drink as she learned of the events of her birthday, five days past.

Her King, King Jecis, had come to the Keep on the pretense of interest in her betrothal, but in reality, rumors of treachery had reached him at the Capital. He and General Ehrik had made a public appearance while the General's younger brother, Kellir, who was much more skilled in covert actions, snuck into her father's private rooms. He had found correspondence between her father and fiancé. There had been a plan to use Alaliya as an excuse for free travel between the two countries. Her fiancé had planned to murder his ruler, King Niflor, once he married to the future Queen. As a young, widowed ruler, it would have been only appropriate for her to take a husband. And who better than the widower King of the closest kingdom? With the young Queen married away, it would leave the throne open for the Queen's brother and his wife to possess in her absence. Soon after taking command of his country, her fiancé had planned to wage war for some imagined slight. Alaliya's fiancé wrote of his belief that his younger sister would remain loyal to her family and murder her new husband, King Jecis, if it was asked of her. With the death of both Kings, her fiancé and father believed that several laws could be overturned and several trade bans removed, making them both a hefty profit. The final outcome of the plan, it seemed, was that her fiancé would be the King of his nation, and her father would be immeasurably richer. By their estimation, once King Niflor was married to her fiancé's sister, the whole plan would take no more than three years.