"Thena! Help me!"
The lithe young woman ran desperately toward the sound of the screams. She knew the voice of her younger sister, Arel, but there was a terror in the sound that was new and unfamiliar.
Thena's slim, golden hued legs flashed as she darted through the hot yellow grasses of the savannah. It was the time of the great Star's longest and hottest rule over her land, and even the towering black-trunked trees dotting the savannah steamed faintly each morning when the first light struck them. Now the world was suddenly a nightmarish place of meadow overlooked by blue sky pulsing in the heat, as Thena ran toward the grove near the lake, where she heard the cries of her sister.
As she approached, she knelt down instinctively, her golden hair glistening like the mane of an Ashter cat, her huge green eyes unblinking, her full lips parted and finely chiseled nostrils flared to take in the scents the low hot wind might carry to her.
Feline in grace, she crept close to the ground, gained the banks of the lake, and peered through the tall grasses that reached her breast when she was erect. "It is the Savages!" she gasped, recoiling in a momentary panic. She had already eluded capture by two of the creatures, who had been waiting in ambush for them, but she and Arel had become separated, and now the younger girl had been taken. Her first thought was to run away, at heart-tearing speed, to escape from the horror that confronted her. But she forced herself to lie quietly and watch, knowing that the tree-top homes of her people lay many hours away from this spot, and that she and Arel were paying the price now for their adventure.
"Please, please let me go!" Arel was pleading with the creatures, and Thena trembled in helpless rage as she watched her younger sister, whose hair was as tawny as the grasses, struggling with one of the savages. It was tall, brown-haired, with hair upon its face and its body, and Thena could see the musculature of its arms and chest, and its taut thighs. It wore a loincloth of purple spotted leather, fashioned from the hide of the spiral-horned Kalamin deer, and on its powerful arms were darker bands of hide that moved with the pulsation of the muscles.
She remembered now the word for these creatures, whose existence she had believed to be a legend: Males, whose name was taboo in the house of the women, and whose violence was feared above any wild beast. And yet they could speak, these creatures, for the one who held Arel's wrists pinned behind her back was saying to the other two, "Bring the beasts, that we may go before we are attacked by this little one's people!
Some of them have venomous claws! Help me with this kitten," he called to a third Male, and the savage stepped forward to grasp Arel's slim ankles, binding them with cords braided from the same blue Kindral vines whose fiber had made Thena's and Arel's short, airy garments, woven and spun during the long warm nights around the Mother Flame, the great open fire that was tended and never let to die...
Now the one who held Arel, the youngest one, it seemed, for his facial hair was the lightest and most silky, this one was tying her wrists behind her back. Thena tensed her body, and clutched her bow. She could kill one, even two. But the others would come after her. There would be no mercy for either her or her sister if she were found with the blood of these Males on the gold of her arrow points. She clenched her teeth in helpless impotence.
"No!" Arel was screaming again, struggling in the grasp of the Male, but he seemed to relish her spirit. "Let me go!" she cried, her cheeks burning a deeper rose hue, her long hair disordered, her breasts heaving with the agony of her struggle.
"I cannot let you go, Kitten," he laughed. "You must come with me, alone, since we cannot find your friends."
The other two savages approached leading four strange beasts, unlike any that Thena had ever seen. They had long, graceful legs, sharp, uncloven hoofs, glistening coats of short fur, and pointed ears.
The youngest Male was embracing Arel now, one hand behind her back, grasping her bound wrists, the other inexplicably opening the front of her dress to expose the girl's rounded, uptilted breasts, and their coral-colored tips, where milk given by the great Mother of all beings would flow someday, when Arel swelled with the child that the Goddess would send if She so desired.
Thena watched in shocked amazement as the Male caressed Arel's exposed breasts, then bent over her and placed his lips over the tip of one, like a suckling baby. The young girl was twisting and struggling helplessly. The great Star poured down its heat on the scene, while the trees and the other Males stood motionless as rock sentinels, and the blue of the sky seemed to melt into the surface of the lake and fuse them both into one vast cobalt mirror.
Then the Male gave a cry of pain, and Thena saw the crimson slash on his shoulder where Arel's white teeth had met in the flesh. The others stepped forward with menacing looks. "The Kitten has sharp teeth, Darek," cried one. "Show her the strength of your hand so that she will learn to sheath her fangs!"
The one they called Darek only smiled, holding Arel's wrists firmly, while he wiped away the blood with one careless hand. His eyes were as dark brown as his hair, and gleamed like the wolfish orbs of death that sometimes circled the trees, kept away by the great fire. But there was no anger in his words when he answered them, motioning them away with a commanding gesture. "No," he said quietly. "This little one meant no harm. She is only trying to protect herself. She will learn to know me in time. But for now, we will cover this pretty mouth until it can learn to give pleasure instead of pain."
Before Arel could resist, the Male bound her mouth tightly with a wide, soft strip of leather, tying it at the back of her head. In another moment, Thena saw her sister placed on the back of the riding beast, in front of the leader, who rode behind her, clasping one strong arm around her waist. "Great Mother," she breathed, "I must follow them and wait for the chance to free Arel. Grant me strength andspeed!"
She saw the captive girl glance around desperately as they rode off, and she prayed that Arel would have faith in her sister's loyalty and love. "For I, as the older, led her on this journey to find the lake we had heard of, and now I must bring her home." The image of Arel, bound and helpless, burned in her heart, and she clenched her bow in a moment of agonizing fear. If she were not able to free Arel, what would happen to her? Would she be killed? And yet, the Male had looked upon her with something like affection. It was all madness, not to be understood. The savages were like that. Their ways were alien, and until this moment, Thena had believed that the stories were all fantasies. Now she knew with grim certainty that they were not.
Shouldering her bow, Thena ran swiftly to the grove where she found the trail. They were already far in the distance, moving in the direction of the mountains, betrayed by the dust clouds their steeds made. I must keep out of sight, she thought, moving through the chest-high grass with the speed of a Kalamin. And when I have Arel safe with me, I shall kill all of them, silently, with my Claw-knife.
In a thickly woven pouch at her side hung the weapon of which she spoke, a thing of golden metal, multi-bladed, sharp as a river snake's spines, and each point of it shiny with the poison of white Malen berries that burst onto the low bushes once each year. Night was coming down out of the mountains as the great Star descended to rest in its opalescent throne under this vast lake which no one of the people had ever seen. Thena watched the distant cloud of dust, but she did not rest for an instant. Her leather-wrapped feet hit the ground lightly as she followed the trail of her sister's captors.
The thudding of the steed's hoofs was echoed in the pounding of Arel's heart. She felt the hard, muscled body of the Male who rode behind her, and despite her terror of him, she was grateful for the powerful arm that encircled her, because she felt that otherwise she would slip from the animal's back and be trampled into the dust that rose behind them in a swirling cloud.
She turned slightly and looked up at her captor. He was tall, broad-chested, and his aquiline nose, dark thick eyebrows, and full lips fascinated her. She had never seen a being like this before. Even the strong guard women were not as powerful as this one. He smiled down at her and drew her closer to his chest. "Soon we will camp for the night, Kitten," he murmured, his eyes flashing with some unknown emotion, "and then I will teach you all about life. You'll learn to love what I teach you."
"Never! I hate you! I want to go home!" That was what Arel tried to say, but her mouth was bound too tightly, and only stifled sounds emerged. Never in her seventeen seasons had she so longed to speak. Instead, she could only turn away in contempt. The wind of their swift passage roared in her ears, her wrists and ankles ached from the cords used to tie them, and she trembled inwardly with fear, for she sensed that she might never see her home again.
When they stopped at the lowering of the great Star to camp, the Male they called Darek lifted her carefully from the beast and laid her, still bound, on a luxuriant fur that he had spread on the grass. They were near a craggy mountain range when the light failed, and Arel seemed to feel the ominous presence of those cliffs of stones. Their very shadow was cold on her heart. Where is Thena? she cried in anguished silence, feeling the tears begin to come, as the Males built a fire and set up their camp without so much as a glance at her. She will come, Arel told herself bravely. My sister can follow any trail. But her courage began to fail her when Darek knelt beside her, took her up in his arms, and carried her to a tent made of black hides, which he had ordered his followers to erect.
"Come with me now, Kitten," he whispered. "It is time for your first lesson." Surely he could feel her trembling, but it seemed to have no effect on him. He laid her down inside the tent and closed the flap of material that served as a door. A branch covered by an eerie, phosphorescent moss hung in a corner and gave a faint light to the interior. She felt her cheeks burning with shame, and then she winced as he placed his hands on her exposed breasts, grasping them tightly, twisting the tips gently between his thumbs and fingers, and then bringing his tongue to probe the tender nipples, first one and then the other. She twisted, trying to pull away, and she screamed as loudly as she could, but the leather gag was too tight, and only a muffled cry escaped from her lips. Darek laughed softly. "Don't be afraid, Kitten," he said in a low voice. "I will be gentle."
What is he going to do to me? she thought wildly. He must mean that he will kill me, but mercifully. Oh, great Mother of us all! Help me!
She closed her eyes in terror, for he held a shining blade in one hand. But instead of piercing her heart with it, he began to cut away her garment, rending the material that she had so carefully woven into a silken web of shimmering blue cloth. She gazed up at him in amazement.
"You are beautiful," he said in a low tone, and Arel felt herself blushing again. "Your breasts are as glowing as the metal that we use to make our swords," he murmured. "Your hair shines like the surface of the sacred Lake, and your hips are curved as the orb of the Night Star that lights our way when the sky is black."
Astonishment possessed her at his words. This was poetry, as intricate and lovely as the chants sung around the Mother Flame. Despite his savagery and frightening strength, this Male...this one called Darek spoke well. But did he mean to kill her after all? Was he praising her only as a sacrifice to some ferocious deity?
The young girl felt her ankles being untied. She tried to kick, to defend herself, but his powerful body was lying over hers, pinning her limbs to the ground, and a moment later she felt an incredible sensation within her special woman's place, the corridor that ran red with the Night Star's changes. Something hard and taut, something warm and living, was entering her, forcing its way inside, rending through a barrier with unbearable pain, and filling her body! Her scream was stifled by his hand, pressed tightly over her bound lips, and then she lost consciousness for a time.
When she awoke, it was to a new sensation. Darek leaned over her, close to her body, supporting himself on his elbows, and moving his hips gently in a rhythmic motion. And the taut thing in her body moved with him. More than that, it sent an electric burning through her limbs, and a wild dizziness made the dimly lit chamber spin for a moment. She felt his hands moving quickly to untie the gag from her mouth, and then he was whispering, "You won't bite me now, will you, Kitten?"
To her own shame and horror, she was shaking her head, her soft lips were parting to admit his tongue, his mouth was covering hers, and his hands were everywhere on her body, stroking her tawny-hued breasts, touching the silken triangle of soft hairs between her hips, grasping her taut buttocks, and finally gripping her arms, while his hips thrust back and forth in sharp, forceful movements, until her back arched violently in a shuddering convulsion that spread throughout her body and left her flooded with a sensation of tingling warmth.
When it was over, the young girl lay exhausted and bewildered, while the Male bound her slim ankles, tightened the cords around her wrists, and took up the leather cloth. "No," she whispered faintly, gazing up at him, and she noticed that he looked at her in a new and tender way, although his eyes were still dark and frightening, and the dark brown hair on his chest and face shocked her anew each time she saw it. "Please don't do that. I won't scream."
"I'm sorry, little One," he murmured, and although she tried to turn away, he gagged her securely with the cloth. "We can't risk your calling to any of your people who may be trying to follow us . We know how dangerous they can be." He laughed in a low, husky tone. "You're mine now, Kitten. Mine, and I intend to keep you." He lay down next to her, drawing a robe of fur over them both, and leaned over to kiss her bound lips gently. "Sleep well, sweet One. In the morning, I shall teach you more."
Arel lay as still as possible, a vortex of thoughts twisting in her mind. What had he done to her, and why? It had not seemed to give him pleasure, for he had groaned at the last like a Lujal wolf when the arrow pierces its side, and closed his eyes as if in mortal pain. And yet, the lightning that had sped up and down her limbs had not been unpleasant. It was strange, but it had left her in a state of peace that she had never known before, as if she floated just above the ground in a warm bed of radiant mist. The young girl closed her amber eyes, and sought the renewal of sleep. Though he has not harmed me yet, I am still a prisoner, she warned herself silently. He means no good to me, or he would set me free. When Thena comes, we will escape, and she will slay them all.
She turned cautiously and opening her eyes, gazed at Darek. He lay sleeping at full length, his strong arms and long, powerful body in repose, his full lips curved in a dream-smile. Somehow, the thought of slaying him did not please Arel. He has placed some evil magic in my body, she thought. But I shall resist it, and him, so long as I still draw breath. He stirred in his sleep and rolled over, one arm encircling her body protectively. He moved closer, until she felt his warm, sweet breath against her cheek. And so Arel fell asleep, dreading the rise of the great Star in the morning, but with a strange anticipation in her loins that both terrified and bewildered her.
Darek the Brave, son of the great Javik, and brother to Rajan, leader of the Black Cliff Tribe, awoke to the sounds of his men breaking camp, the harsh cries of Lazlen birds that made their nests of stone in the crags nearby, and then, so softly that he could barely detect it, the gentle breathing of the young girl who lay in his bed of furs.
"Father of the Mountains," he whispered in a kind of awe, "how beautiful she is."
He watched her quietly, his heart beginning to beat faster and his manhood to swell uncontrollably. Her firm, rounded breasts moved slightly with each sleeping breath. Her eyelashes were long and dark, and her cheeks were touched with the deepened color of sleep. Darek felt his passion rising within him. Not in all his nineteen seasons had he felt this pounding of the heart, this quickening of his breath. He disregarded the sounds outside the tent. They were eager to return home, but he wanted to stay here forever...
Her lovely golden eyes opened, and he saw the momentary confusion as she gazed at him. Placing one finger against his own lips, he murmured, "Promise me that you will not scream, Kitten, and I shall remove that cloth."
She nodded quickly, and he gently untied the leather gag, exposing her full, rose-hued lips. He stroked her luxuriant light-colored hair, and waited for her to speak.
"Where are we now?" She spoke hesitantly, and a faint tremulous wavering was in her voice. Darek felt a quick rush of pity for her. She was full young to be taken like this, but he could not wish it undone.
"We are near to the mountains. The land of my people," he answered. But his mind was far away from his words. He was looking at the gentle curves of her hips, the lush beauty of her breasts, and longing to take her again. He forced himself to lie quietly by her side, leaning on one elbow, looking down at her. "What is your given name, little One?" he asked, and noticed that a blush spread over her cheeks.
"My name is Arel," she answered. "Please tell me what will happen to me," she added in a soft voice, vibrant with fear. Darek smiled reassuringly.
"Nothing evil, Arel. I am bringing you to my home, to be my mate. You will not be harmed."
Her eyes flared with the sudden brilliance of anger. "You have already harmed me!" she hissed. "I know not what magic you worked on me, but I felt great pain at first, and then, later..." She dropped her glance and hesitated, while Darek moved closer to her, running his hand slowly over her bare shoulder, touching her neck and bosom as gently as a wolf-Male carries its young between its teeth.
"Later?" he prompted her, pressing his lips against the softness of her neck.
"Later I felt so strange. As if I were dying." The young girl looked up at him as if pleading for an explanation. He laughed softly.
"That was love, Kitten. I made love to you. Always, the first time is painful for a woman. But it will never be so again. I promise!"
"Love...?" Her tone was perplexed, a faint note of longing in it that reminded him of the throbbing night winds that haunted the summers in the mountain caves of his people. "I do not understand. I love my sister, and I love she who bore me, and all my people, but never have we held each other in this way. And only the babies touch the breasts as you have done."
"So lovely," he mused, cupping one firm breast in his hand and placing his lips over the nipple for a long moment. "I know it is hard for you to understand, Arel, because they do not tell you. But a part of my body entered yours to place the seed of life. This is how the children are begotten."
A look of horror paled her expressive face. The lips parted slightly, and a low gasp escaped her throat. "No!" she whispered. "The Great Mother of all beings swells our bodies when it is time!"
"You have seen the deer in the meadows, and the wolves at dusk, Kitten," he said quietly, reaching down to untie her slim ankles and rub them where the cruel cords had left a faint reddened line. "Even your own Faral cats that sleep in your tree-nests with your people...even they make love. Every Female who is born, among the beasts or the people, carries that sweet passageway." His hand strayed unbidden to the warm cleft between her hips and rested there, moving rhythmically while he spoke.
"And every Male bears this." Now he felt a momentary shyness, but he quickly removed his loincloth and revealed himself to her. His manhood, a darker bronze than the rest of his body, stood erect, swelling, longing for her body like a creature possessed of a soul.
Large amber eyes gazing at him, and no sound. Not a word. "Kitten..." He began to stroke her gently, his powerful hands moving from her hips to her breasts, his mouth following them, while she lay rigidly still.
"Do not resist me, Arel," he murmured. "Or there may be pain again. Let me love you..."
"No!" she shrieked wildly, startling him with the frenzy of rage and terror in her voice. "My sister follows us! She will slay all of you!"
Darek knelt beside her, his face darkening and grim. "So! We were right! Your companion is tracking us! And she escaped us at the Lake. She must be a courageous Female, this sister of yours. But I will not have her find us."
As Arel opened her lips to scream again, the young Male clamped his hand over her mouth. He found the leather cloth and gagged her tightly. "I wanted to kiss your sweet lips while I took you," he murmured, "but that must wait until we are home."
His eager hands were on her breasts, and the soft tips became erect under his probing tongue. He forced her slim thighs apart with his knees, and plunged his manhood into her. The girl's eyes widened, and she moaned in pain. You will learn, Kitten, he thought. You will learn that it can be a pleasant as the spring rains to be mated by a Male. The pounding of his heart increased twofold, and the movement of his loins kept pace with it. And now the girl began to respond, her hips undulating, her eyes closing, and low moans of rapture sounding in her throat like the soft purring of a young cat.
With quick hands, he untied the gag again, and was rewarded to find that she parted her lips for his tongue to enter. He drank the nectar of her mouth, while his maleness thrust deep into a sheath of pulsating, moist warmth, the essence of her being exposed to his seeking manhood. Then the world exploded inside him, glittering shards of passion ripped through his chest, stomach, and limbs, and he grasped her as a man caught in the rising floods of the canyon river would cling to a smooth-barked tree.
Afterwards Darek held her in his arms while she wept softly. "Do not be sad," he whispered. "I will never let anyone harm you. We will be together. You are mine now."
"I shall never see Thena again..." Her tone was bleak and despairing. Darek felt his chest tighten.
"I wish you to be happy with me, Kitten," Darek said in a low, urgent tone. He reached into the pouch that carried his belongings and brought out one of the garments he had brought with him. Without meeting her eyes, the powerful young Male swiftly untied her wrists and offered her the clothing.Suddenly, he was ashamed to look at her nakedness, and he felt an inexplicable sadness. No one had told him about this part of it. They had taught him much about Females, but never had he been told of this, that women would feel sorrow. That they would long to return to their homes. That they had hearts to mourn with and minds to carry thoughts of their own people.
When she was dressed, in a soft leather garment that covered most of her lovely body, exposing only her delicate feet and hands, Darek picked her up and stood erect within the high-ceilinged tent. "Are you ready to go home?" he asked, savoring the feel of her body in his arms. "To your new home, with me, Kitten?"
Arel laid her head against the Male's muscular shoulder and wept at his words. To her new home! Where she would never see her people again! She shook her head violently, but he did not seem to notice. As easily as if he carried a child, he brought her to his steed and placed her before him. He had not bound or gagged her this time, and she was able to straddle the beast they rode, and so feel more secure.
Once again, his arm was around her waist, but instead of feeling hatred and anger against this Male, Arel knew only confusion and sorrow. I should despise him, she thought, but I cannot. When he...made love to me, he changed my heart somehow, as well as my body. The young huntress, bred as a warrior and tracker, knew that her thoughts were not the ancient truths that were spoken around the Mother Flame, or sung as war chants when the black Lujal wolves grew bold enough to show their teeth at the tree-homes of her people. But still, it is what I feel, she mused. A spasm of grief clenched in her chest. Thena would understand! Butshall I ever see her again?
As they rode, their trail led them up into the rocks, where intricate formations of black stone towered on either side, and the way was steep, narrow, and treacherous. In a grove of massive trees, they stopped by a boulder strewn canyon, where a stream of silver water plunged over a cliff, forming a waterfall that freshened all the air with a light mist and formed a deep, blue-black pool.
While the other Males watered the beasts, the girl found herself being led to a leafy thicket, secluded from view by a thick mass of trees with dark and pungent leaves. It was so different from Arel's home of open lands and yellow grasses. Like an enchanted bower, it was cool, quiet, and fragrant. Its floor was lush green grass, as soft as fine woven cloth.
"Why are you so silent, Kitten?" He had murmured the words close to her ear, and when she turned to look at him, she saw that his dark brows were drawn together in a frown, but not an angry one.
He looks sorrowful, she marvelled. But what cause could her conqueror have to grieve? "I am thinking of my family," she murmured. "I will miss them." She could not know how the shafts of Starshine, penetrating the thicket, touched the radiant silk of her hair and lighted her eyes with flecks of green and pure gold. But she saw her own beauty reflected in the intense gaze of her captor. Now, the Male seemed to relax, and the corners of his lips curved up. He drew her close to his chest and brought his lips to her ear.
"Don't grieve, little One," he whispered. "Your sister will be welcomed in our city as your companion, free to come and go as she wishes." He hesitated, touching Arel's lips and forehead with gentle fingers. "You I must keep, Kitten. I cannot bear to part with you. But no harm will come to your sister. I swear it!" Darek's eyes had darkened when he spoke, as if he foresaw some great danger, but Arel was too happy to notice.
"You promise?" she breathed, placing her arms around his neck in her eagerness, turning her lovely face up to his, her half-parted mouth close to Darek's lips. "If only Thena and I can be together sometimes, I will be content! I will not try to escape!" The young girl blushed, suddenly aware of her own actions, but it was too late. Darek was embracing her, clasping his hands around her waist and covering her lips with his warm, sensual mouth.
"I believe you, Kitten." His voice was low and throbbing with passion. And Arel felt her own body answer him, in terrifying but ecstatic signals: the tautness of her nipples, the fiery incandescence in her limbs, the quick breaths that filled her lungs with the perfumed scent of the leaves and made her eyes close against her will, and her own lips that locked against Darek's mouth, her hands that explored the sleek muscles of his back and shoulders, and her hips that pressed against the hardened maleness at his loins in a supplicating demand.
Arel found her soft garment pulled from her by Darek's eager hands. The grass was cool against her naked back and buttocks, and her lover's body was joined to her by a living shaft of hard flesh that seemed to drive toward her heart. She cried out again and again in the final moments, but he did not cover her mouth with his hand. He drank in her cries as if they were sweetest nectar. She saw his dark eyes, glowing with passion, and she gazed into them while her hands fastened in his hair, and her legs wound around his body, chaining him to her. "Arel," he cried once, and she watched his eyes close, his nostrils flare to take in more breath, his body convulse. Then her own life left her, dissolving her limbs as it fled, and she spoke his name as she dropped into a lake of pure balm and oblivion.
"Darek...I love you..."
The wolves ran silently, hunting their prey, and Thena kept just ahead of them. She leaped from boulder to boulder, scrambling desperately through the crags of the mountain range. In the lesser light of the Night Star, she saw the gleam of their teeth and glow of their eyes. She heard the faint scraping of claws against bare rock, as they drove her back, toward a cliff that looked out over a fog shrouded valley, where death waited for her to leap into its arms.
Her long golden hair was wet with the moisture of the night and of her own exertion. Her breath came in quick, short panting bursts, as she turned to face them. The silence was broken now by their savage baying and fierce snarls. Quickly she discarded her bow as useless against so many at close range, and gripped her spear. At each end of the polished wood a sharp blade gleamed. "I shall take half of you at least with me to the Great Mother's arms," she hissed, glaring into the wolves' merciless eyes and feeling their hot breath on her face.
The lead wolf struck first, as was his right, and Thena caught him on the point of the spear. His blood spurted in a widening pool, and she slipped to her knees on the wet rock. The pack lunged forward as one beast, jaws open, baying hideously. She freed her spear, leaped up, but lost her footing. The moon whirled above her, the wolf-cries shrieked in her ears, and she smelled the rank odor of blood as she plunged toward the mist covered rocks below her.
But as she fell, something gripped her arm like the talons of a hunting bird. For an instant she hung between sky and earth, dangling over the veiled expanse of nothingness, where jagged death awaited her. Then in one swift motion, she was drawn upwards and found herself standing on the cliff's edge again.
The wolves were grouped in a circle, silent and watchful, and in the play of light and shadow, the girl saw what had pulled her out of the valley of mist. A Male! But not one of those who took Arel! She almost cried aloud, but only the cool wind, the night vapor, the twisted trees, and the wolves would have heard her. He was like the others, but taller, and her trained huntress eyes, well used to judging the strength of beasts, noted that he was more powerful as well, his chest and shoulders broader, the muscles more prominent. He wore a loincloth and short tunic of supple hides, black in color as the merciless night sky.
His face was bare, but not smooth. Even in the Night Starshine she could detect the dark traces of a beard, just as the old legends of these Savages had described. His mouth was full and sensual, his nose straight and well-shaped, and his hair was pure black, and long, reaching his shoulders in a thick and glossy mane.
All these details the girl saw in one glance before she tensed herself to fight and kill if need be. She knew that he was appraising her as well, his fierce dark eyes scanning her face and body, his lips curved in an ominous smile. "Lie down!" he cried abruptly, pointing at the savage wolves, and they sank obediently to the cold stone, their tongues lolling, and only an occasional whine of eagerness betraying their desire to finish off their lost prey. "What do you want here, in our land?" he demanded. His voice was not harsh, but it was cold and stern, the mark of one who was used to command.
"I am seeking my sister," the girl answered. She was still trembling from her desperate flight before the pack and her plunge into shrouded death, but she kept her voice steady and clear by the force of her will. "She was carried off by four of your kind. I was tracking them until your black wolves caught my scent. If you will let me pass, I shall pick up the trail again." And if you will not, I shall slay you, she thought, one hand touching the claw knife in its pouch. Her spear had parted from her when she fell, and rested now on the valley's floor.
He laughed, a low, threatening sound. It was echoed by faint growls from the wolves' throats. "Let you pass?" The tall, powerful Male moved a step closer to the girl. Without warning, he seized her arms and pulled her to him. In another instant, Thena's wrists were grasped tightly by one of the Savage's hands, while his other hand fastened roughly in her flowing hair. "No, Beauty," he murmured. "Our ruler, Rajan, would reward me if I brought him such a Female as you to be his bedmate!" He appraised her with an icy gaze. "Your breasts are firm and young. Your hips are rounded and will carry many sons for him. Rajan will be pleased."
Her lips parted in silent amazement, Thena stared at him for a moment. His sensual mouth and burning eyes were inches from her face. He seemed about to devour her, but instead of fear, Thena knew only a ferocious rage that gave her the heart and strength of a lioness. Just as Arel had done, she sank her teeth into the Male's arm, but far deeper and more savagely.
He made no outcry, but he raised one hand and struck her hard across the face. The blow made a resonant sound in her ears, like the high-pitched flutes that her people loved to play on. Then it passed, and she felt the stinging pain his hand had left. "I cannot stand," she murmured in a faint voice, wavering on her feet, but when he released her wrists in order to support her body, Thena's hand shot to her side. The claw knife was in her hand and thrusting at his chest. In another instant he would have died, but this creature was too quick for her. She cried out in pain and anger as he gripped her arm, wrenched the weapon from her hand, and tossed it carelessly over the cliff.
"Now, She-Cat," he growled, "I'll take you to our Master. But first I'll pull your claws, if you have any left." In one savage movement, he twisted her arms behind her and she felt her wrists being bound with braided leather cord. All her lithe power was to no avail. He held her as easily as a child holds a Faral kitten, and the bonds he used were brutally effective.
Taking another piece of cord from a leather pouch he carried, the Male secured her ankles and extended the rope to her thighs, looping it around them above her knees. "Do you feel helpless now, Beauty?" he laughed, straightening up and looking down at her, where she lay on the cold, hard rock. "You look more beautiful this way, and not so dangerous!"
He pulled her roughly to her feet and brought out a piece of black leather, formed like a bit for riding animals, but thicker, with cords attached. "For you, She-Cat." Your teeth are sharp as they are white. Now open your mouth!" he commanded. She shook her head stubbornly, clamping her jaws together, but his hands were too strong. When it was clear that he would force her mouth open and do her an injury unless she obeyed, the girl parted her soft rosy lips unwillingly. The Male thrust the leather gag between her teeth and then secured it by tying the cords tightly at the back of her head.
"Now I may bring you to our city," he said in an ironic tone, "without any danger that you might maim our ruler before he can enjoy your body." For the first time, the Savage's eyes seemed to gleam with desire, and his voice held a note of admiration. But Thena was in too much agony of mind to notice. Her pride was like a swift Kalamin deer which cunning traps had felled and brought into shameful captivity. The bonds that cut into her arms and legs and the gag that stifled even the slightest sound from her mouth were as nothing compared to the pain Thena knew at her failure to help Arel.
But I will wait and watch, she promised herself, as the Male threw her easily over one shoulder and strode up the mountainside, his wolves running quietly at his heels. Her long golden hair hung down and obscured her vision. The Male's strong hand clasped firmly over her buttocks, to hold her in place. She raged inwardly at the chance that had sent him her way. To kill him, to kill this king, Rajan, to slay as many of the Savages as she could...this was her only thought as she was carried up a narrow rock-encrusted trail, deep into the heart of the Black Cliffs.
Thena shivered in the dank closeness of the mountain trail. Her stomach ached from the hardness of the Male's shoulder, and the tight cords bit into her bound limbs. Suddenly, she heard wolves baying in the distance, and the Male's pack answering them. In a few moments, he strode into a large level ground surrounded by towering crags, whose fantastic shapes loomed in silhouette against the Night Star-brightened sky.
Lying over his shoulder, her head down, Thena was unable to see clearly, but she was aware of other Males, whose features glowed in the radiance of a huge fire. They let her captor pass without challenge, and she had a confused impression that they saluted him by raising their clenched fists and then slamming them against their chests. One of these guards opened a huge door of wood and metal which was built into the rock, and the Male who carried Thena strode through, while the portal shut behind them with a sound of heavy finality.
To her relief, he lowered her from his shoulder and then cradled her in his arms. She looked up at him in mute defiance, but he responded with a low, sinister laugh. "You're angry, She-Cat!" he murmured. "But your fierce looks won't frighten Rajan. He's fond of wild things, especially when they have jewel-green eyes and hair spun from Starshine." He glanced ironically at his arm, still streaked with blood from Thena's bite. "And once he tames that beautiful mouth, he'll probably find it full of sweet nectar, like any wild flower."
He carried her down a corridor that was hewn from solid rock, and the girl realized that she was inside the cliff itself, in a cavern lighted by some natural glowing substance in the walls, and formed by nature or by craft into a subterranean palace. He stopped at an inner door, kicked it open with his foot, and giving a sharp command to his beasts to stay, he walked in and set Thena abruptly and not gently on her feet. He closed the door and barred it with a long piece of metal.
She looked around in wonder at the gleaming walls of the cave-room, veined in gold, crimson, blue and a dozen other colors, shimmering like the pearlescent heart of a shell-creature from the lake in her home. My home... The word made her sick with desire for the open grassland. She felt suddenly faint and weakened by the oppressive closeness of the cavern, and a subtle chill spread through her body, which was streaked with the dust and blood that were the visible signs of her struggle for survival on the mountain. The Male seemed to notice her discomfort.
"Don't worry, Beauty," he said in an ironic tone. "I won't let your new Master see you until you're bathed and dressed. The water should warm you, too, if you're not used to our chill nights." For the first time, she noticed a large hollow in the cave floor, filled with clear water that emitted a faint steam. A warm spring bubbled up from below ground and replenished the water, which overflowed into a crevice in the floor.
Before she had time to realize what was happening, the Male seized her in his arms and dropped her into the water. The pool was only waist deep, but she struggled helplessly to reach the surface until he stepped into the water and pulled her to her feet. "I don't want to drown you," he laughed, pushing her wet hair away from her face so that she could breathe more easily. "Although Rajan might, if you bite him as you did me! Shall I take the gag out?" he asked, one hand touching the straps that held it in place. "I don't want to hit you again, Beauty, but I will, if you use your sharp teeth on me!"
The girl studied his face. His looks were less grim and savage than they had been on the cliff. Perhaps if I appease him, lull him into thinking I am broken to his will, I can slay him and escape. I must find Arel. She may even be a prisoner in this cave-city of the Males! She looked into his eyes, and then lowered her gaze in submission and nodded. He reached out, untied the straps, and removed the leather gag from between her teeth. Thena took a deep breath through her mouth. "I am grateful," she said softly. "Will you loosen these bonds? They are painful."
The Male gave her a skeptical glance, but he untied the cords around her wrists. He freed her ankles and thighs, and she sighed with relief, for it was easier to stand in the water when her legs were not bound. "My name is Thena," she said in a soft, placating tone. "Can you tell me how you are called?"
"They who know me best call me Lujal," he answered. "That is another word for Wolf." He picked up a metallic vessel, intricately carved, that stood on the marble-veined edge of the pool, and from it, poured a handful of sweet-scented liquid into the palm of his hand. "Now take off your clothes, and I'll wash you, Beauty." She stared at him in shock, her cheeks hot, her heart pounding. There was a glint of amusement in his eyes that almost maddened her, but she forced herself to obey, pulling off the brief garment that was torn and badly stained.
The girl held it out to him silently, and the Male tossed it carelessly onto the ground. "Rajan will provide you with all the clothing you will need," he said. His gaze was traveling up and down her body like an animal tracking its prey, and she shuddered involuntarily. He smiled and moved to stand close to her, looking into her eyes. "You must have traveled a long distance from your home." His voice was deep and resonant, so unlike the melodious accents of Thena's people. "What made you come into the Black Cliff country?"
"I told you I was looking for my sister," she retorted. "This country is all new to me. I did not know the Savages dwelled here!"
"Savages!" Lujal smiled. "You're right, Beauty. That is exactly what I am!" His black glittering eyes seemed to thrust into her. He grasped her tightly around the waist, and his other hand moved over her neck, her breasts, and her hips in a slow, languorous motion. The foaming softness of the lotion cleansed her body pleasantly, but she trembled inwardly with anger at his bold touch. When he had finished, Lujal allowed her to dip into the warm water, until all traces of the blood and dirt were gone, and her chill had subsided. He lifted her from the pool and gave her a soft woven cloth to dry herself.
As she did so, he leaned against a jutting pillar of rock and watched her, as one would observe a prize from the hunt, or a newly captured pet. "Now our Lord Rajan will be pleased to take you to his bed," he said in a voice that was suddenly lower and more husky.
"What does this Rajan want from me?" she cried, unable to restrain herself any longer. "Why should he wish to share his sleeping place with me?"
Lujal laughed and picked her up in his arms. She began to struggle, but he tossed her onto a pile of furs that evidently served him as a bed. "I'll show you, Thena," he said. "It's easier than trying to explain." She watched in astonishment as he removed his tunic and revealed his bronzed chest, covered with coarse black hairs, and the powerful muscles of his arms and shoulders. When he stripped off his loincloth, exposing the swollen Maleness of his body, Thena felt her face grow hot from anger.
"You are well named, Wolf!" she hissed. "I have seen the wolves mating in their season, and the other beasts too! But the Mother who bore us all has spared my people that horror of being mounted by ones such as you!"
"She's spared you nothing, Beauty!" he answered, staring at her in fierce hunger, his eyes like two dark fires, his color heightened, and his lips parted as he breathed deeply, inhaling her scent as a predatory beast would do. "You'll be mounted like any She-cat in heat! And you'll mewl for the pleasure of it, just as they do!"
Before she could leap to her feet and elude him, Lujal sprang upon her, as the lead wolf had done in the wind haunted mountains. "No!" she screamed, clawing at him, kicking and struggling wildly. "You'll die for this, Lujal!"
The Male's powerful hands pinned her wrists against the thick furs, and his hot mouth was fastened on one breast. She felt his tongue thrust at the nipple, tormenting it until it contracted into a small, taut mound, and incredibly, the place between her thighs pulsed in a pain unlike anything she'd ever known, sharp, but sweet and tantalizing. A sudden rush of wetness moistened that place, as if her body welcomed this invader, and she saw that Lujal felt it by his bold smile, the flash of triumph in his eyes, and his deep voice murmuring, "It's well worth dying for, Beauty!"
Thena felt his strong hands grip her thighs and spread them apart. "Please! No!" She screamed in terror, but it was too late. His body lunged against hers, and a thing as hard and firm as a spear shaft of flesh thrust up into her body, filling it with a taut, throbbing warmth. Lujal's passion was as ferocious as the wolves he was named for. His breath came in quick fierce pants, and when he pressed his body against hers, she could feel his heart thudding wildly. His dark eyes were almost black, and his mouth covered hers in a rough kiss that bruised her lips. Deep inside her, his manhood plunged in and out as he thrust his hips against hers violently. "You want me, Beauty!" he cried in a hoarse, exultant tone. "You're as wet and swollen as any cat in season would be!"
He looked down at her in triumph, one hand holding her wrists, while the other grasped one of her breasts roughly. "I want you to die, Lujal!" she answered him, panting under the weight of his body.
"Not yet," he growled, and thrust himself so deep into her that she cried out in pain. "I'm not ready to die yet! I want to take you, Beauty, for the space of a thousand moons, and more..."
She lunged at him, her teeth met just short of his bronzed arm, and she saw Lujal's lip curl in anger. He raised his hand as if to strike her, but instead he grasped a woven scarf that lay on the bed and gagged her tightly, winding it twice around her mouth. "Now," he snarled, "unless you enjoy pain, don't fight me any more, Beauty. My patience is at an end! And there is no one that will help you in this place. You belong to me, and I could kill you here and now if I wished to!"
Lujal bent over her once more. His mouth was on her soft vulnerable neck, her shoulders, and on her breasts, bruised and swollen from his brutal touch. Then his eyes closed, he threw his head back and breathed rapidly, and his loins slammed against her hips in a hard, pumping motion that left her breathless. In a final convulsion of his body, he filled her woman's chamber with a warm gush of liquid, and then lay over her, his maleness still throbbing inside her, his panting subsiding like the racing of his heart, and his eyes half-closed, while his hands grasped her breasts.
Thena lay still, her eyes closed, but her heart was pounding. There were no words in her people's language for what had happened to her, but she felt as if a spear had pierced her bosom. She knew that he had wounded her, because while the first wetness had been a betrayal of her own body, moistening the way for the conqueror to enter, another kind of liquid had spurted when he did so... Her own blood, from within her... She felt and scented it, and the knowledge gave her a mixture of sorrow, rage, and shame. And Lujal, his dark eyes gazing in lazy triumph into hers...he felt nothing for her, nothing but the excitement of conquest. Does he still intend to give me to this ruler? she wondered. How can I ever understand his mind? He is a Male, as far removed from me and my people as the wolves he hunts with!
Lujal had closed his eyes, and she began to hope that he might sleep, so that she could try to escape. But in a few moments, he sat up and seized her wrists. "I know that my Beauty won't be here when I wake up, unless I make sure of her," he said. "She's not fond enough of me yet!" he added sardonically.
And I never will be, she thought, wishing that the venom of her feelings could penetrate his chest and stop his heart. But she was helpless, and her hands could not carry out the dictates of her mind. Lujal bound her wrists with soft cords, woven from fiber, and tied them to a metal ring set in the wall, so that her arms were above her head, supported by the furs on which she lay. The position was uncomfortable, but not torturous. Lujal looked down at her, and his handsome, barbaric features reflected his satisfaction at his new conquest. I would that I might find a spear and pierce his heart, to release his conqueror's pride, she thought bitterly, as he tightened her gag, and bent over her, the glitter of passion in his eyes, his mouth and hands roving over her helpless body.
"You must learn to submit to me, Thena," the Male whispered, as he penetrated her again in a sudden thrust. She tried to scream, but only muffled sounds came through the gag, and Lujal clamped his hand tightly over her mouth. "I will tell you when to speak," he whispered, "and now is not the time." She felt his tongue probing her nipples, and his hot, swollen maleness invading her body, and she prayed, Mother of Earth, let me live through this night to save Arel, and to slay this Wolf...
The Great Star of Day was rising over the Black Cliff City, before Lujal had satisfied his desires and turned on his side to sleep. Lying next to her captor, Thena forced herself to rest and to rally her strength for whatever further ordeals lay ahead in this nightmare world of Male dominion.
A glow of midday light penetrated the cavern from an opening high in the vaulted ceiling. Lujal stretched lazily, and stood up from his bed, bestowing one deliberately careless glance on the girl who lay bound and gagged on the thick furs. He smiled when he saw that her eyes were open and blazing with green fire when she looked at him. "You are a wild one," he said roughly, "but you'll be tamed soon enough." The tall, powerful Male stood next to the bed, looking down at her. He watched her fruitless struggle against her bonds, and then he knelt down on the furs and bent over her.
"There's no use fighting me, Beauty," he laughed. His hands strayed to her rounded breasts, and he felt his manhood pulse and stiffen. She is beautiful, Lujal thought. Huge green eyes, rose-colored lips. And this body. Golden skin, breasts as round and ripe as the fruit of the Riala trees...
He bent down and teased her nipples with his tongue, his hands grasping her breasts tightly. "I'm going to untie your gag," he whispered. "But if you bite me again, you'll be punished." Lujal reached to one side of his bed and brought out a short whip of black leather, with several lashes. "Seven tongues to stroke your body," he said, brushing the handle of the whip against her cheek. "I want to kiss your mouth, but I don't want to lose any more blood."
Throwing the whip down, he removed the gag from his beautiful prisoner's mouth. Lujal, the son of Javik, had seen twenty-five summers come and go. He had taken many women during the eight seasons since he came of age, but none of them had made his heart run with the speed of a wolves' pack, like this one. Now her lush, full lips were freed from the cloth, and he placed his mouth over hers in a rough, urgent kiss. There was no passionate response, and he had expected none, but she didn't even try to bite or pull away. This young Female huntress who had fallen into his nets had been spirited and fiery, but now she was quiet, almost passive. Was she this easily broken to his will?
Lujal felt a strange disappointment. Last night, he had raped her unwilling body, while she fought him desperately. Her resistance had inflamed him to the point of frenzy. Now she lay still in his arms, her beautiful eyes closed, her slim legs resting on the fur, her body no longer twisting away from him in the ferocity of hatred. But this might be only a new kind of rebellion on her part, a stoical withdrawing of herself from him. An indifference to him, to his desires, as if he did not even exist... Lujal felt a sudden rush of anger.
"Open your eyes, She-cat!" he snarled, "or you'll be hurt!" Her eyes opened, and he kissed her again, a deep, lingering kiss, plunging his tongue into the sweetness of her mouth. "By the Night Star and the Wolves that follow it, you are beautiful," he said in unwilling admiration. "So beautiful, and so cold," he added in a lower voice.
"What do you want from me?" Her voice was soft, melodious, and throaty. Lujal frowned.
"So you can still speak," he said brusquely. "I want nothing from you that I can't take!"
"I can speak," she answered. "But there is little for me to say to you. Shall I ask the wolf not to devour me? We do not talk to beasts. You must take me, because I am powerless to stop you."
Lujal glanced at the cords that bound her wrists above her head. The undertone of hatred in her voice was unmistakable, and Lujal laughed. "You're right, Beauty! You can't stop me. Maybe you don't even want to!" In one swift movement, he parted her thighs with his knees, grasped her buttocks, and thrust that hardened part of himself deep inside her. She gasped once, but made no other sound, and she watched him with the look of a cornered animal that waits for its chance to escape.
But that no longer mattered to Lujal, because he was losing himself in the sweet, ripe warmth of her, feeling it lock around him until it seemed as if this joining could never be dissolved, as if the searing heat of his maleness and the wet softness of her womanhood would meld together in an unbreakable bond. He knew a sudden fear at the thought that he could lose himself so in mating a Female, and the fear was followed by a strange anger, so that he drove himself into her more violently than before, and grasped her arms tight enough to bruise them. When she cried out in pain, he clamped a brutal hand over her mouth, and drove his taut manhood into her as fiercely as ever he had thrust a sword into his Enemy.
When it was over, Lujal drew away from her at once, leaped to his feet, and pulled on his clothing, a loincloth, a black woven tunic that hung to just above his knees and was belted with a wide strip of Kalamin hide, and supple deer-skin boots that he bound in place with strips of leather. When he had finished, he checked to be certain that the bonds on the girl's wrists were secure. For some reason, Lujal avoided looking into her eyes. But when he did at last, he felt his heart began to thud in a faster rhythm, his breathing grow deeper and suddenly labored, and his loins tighten in fierce urgency.
"By the Black Cliffs!" he said in a low voice. "Are you a Sorceress, She-cat? What kind of Female are you? I tire of most women after a night, but I want you again!" She was staring up at him in silence, and he clenched his fists at his side. She has no power over me, he told himself, but he couldn't seem to look away from her. Perhaps it was the smooth texture of her bare skin, or the luminous green of her huge eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes. Her hair shone against the furs in a luxuriant mass of radiance. As he gazed at her bare breasts, rounded, golden, and tipped with pink, and her curving hips, where the zone of delight was marked by bright, silky hairs, Lujal fought to restrain himself from losing all thought and will in the sweet depths of her.
"I am not a Sorceress, Lujal." The girl's voice was clear and strong. As he suspected, she had been feigning submission last night, and indifference this morning. Hatred and resistance were the only reactions that he could be sure of in his captive. "I did not lure you or your wolves to me, nor did I enchant you into abducting me." A note of irony was in her voice, as she added, "From what you say, I am not the first Female you have mounted. Can they all have been Witches?"
"No, they were not Witches," Lujal answered softly. "But not one of them was like you..." Enough! he thought in rising anger. This is not sorcery, it is weakness in me, and I can't let her see it! "I'm going to Rajan's chamber now," he said, his eyes and his voice suddenly cold and expressionless. "He'll be coming for you, Beauty, and in a few hours you may be wishing that I had kept you for my mate!" His tone was threatening, but the girl seemed not to notice or to react.
"Do you intend to let me lie here and die of thirst, or starve to my death?" she demanded. "Does your ruler prefer to mate with Females who are so weakened by abuse that they cannot resist? If so, he must be as cowardly as you, Lujal! You use ropes and the threat of whips to subdue one who might kill you in battle, if we both held swords in our hands!"
Lujal stared at her for a moment in surprise and then a laugh that was harsh as a Warrior's cry came from his throat. "I have only one sword which I would ever use on you, She-cat, and that is the one that grows out of my body. But when your Master comes for you, I think I can guarantee that he'll feed you well. He wants a strong, healthy mate to bear his sons. And who knows? He may even give you a chance to fight him. He'd probably enjoy the challenge!"
The Male reached down one powerful hand and touched his captive's cheek. "I'll miss you, Beauty," he murmured. For an instant, he wanted to strip off his clothing and feel her firm breasts and her nipples against his chest, to be gripped by the pulsating lips that lay hidden between her slim thighs. He straightened up and strode out the door, barring it behind him. The Male who was called Wolf felt a strange longing in his broad chest, as he walked toward the chamber of Rajan, ruler of the Black Cliffs.
As the door closed heavily, Thena felt the strength of fury inhabiting her limbs. She began to work steadily at the cords that bound her wrists, inching her way up the bed until she could use her teeth to aid her, plucking at the ropes in relentless determination. After a while, she was overjoyed to find that the bonds began to give way. I will not let this Rajan find me here, bound and helpless! she vowed. And if afterwards, I can find Lujal, so much the better. I will slay him as well. When she found herself free, the young girl was almost too surprised to act at once. Then she leaped to the door, but it was too tightly locked, too massive for her to have any hope of destroying it.
Then I shall wait for him and destroy him... She searched the room for a weapon and found a short-bladed knife of yellow metal, lying where its owner had probably tossed it carelessly. She crouched in a dark corner of the cavern and waited for her new Master to claim her, and die.
In the ruler's chamber, Darek waited uneasily for the arrival of Rajan. His Kitten was by his side, but while he paced the huge, vaulted cavern in steadily mounting tension, she sat cross-legged on the floor, playing with one of the wolf-bitch's puppies, stroking its smooth fur, and laughing at its clumsiness, for it was a very young whelp. He smiled down at her and was rewarded with a dazzling look of love. She is mine, he marveled silently. And what is even stranger, I am hers. I do not know which of us is more the prisoner now...
Two guards entered, and one favored Darek with a curt nod and the words, "Our Lord Rajan comes." The young Male turned hastily to Arel, took the wolf pup from her arms and set it down, and, raising the girl to her feet, drew her to his side in a protective gesture.
The Master of the Black Cliff people entered silently. He seemed hardly to notice them, although the chamber was empty except for Darek, Arel, and the two guards. Darek heard Kitten's quick intake of breath and felt her tremble, as she faced Rajan. And he was an imposing figure, tall, dressed in a tunic of black interwoven with golden threads, booted with black leather, and attended by three of the largest wolves, who moved at his heels and lay down at a slight gesture from his hand, their tongues out, their yellow eyes reflecting the cavern's luminescence.
"Don't be afraid, Kitten," Darek whispered, placing his arm around her and bringing her toward the carved stone chair where Rajan stood waiting for them. He knelt before his ruler, and Arel knelt beside him, her head bowed. She smelled fragrant as a forest lily, and the feel of her soft skin as he held her hand was almost maddening. But he forced himself to be calm, and to rise again, as soon as Rajan had seated himself.
"My Lord," he said, "I come to ask your permission to take this Female as my bond-mate. To take her to my dwelling, keep and protect her, and get children on her body." Dutifully, Darek repeated the prescribed words, but they seemed far removed from the feelings he had for Arel. The words were cold and harsh, and his love was a warm, caring thing that he had never known before.
Rajan spoke in the familiar stern tones of command and ritual. "Thou hast remarked her taboo sign, so that no laws may be broken?" His voice was deep and seemed to echo in the spacious room.
"I have, my Lord," Darek answered. "Her sign is unlike my own. There is no danger of evoking the Curse." He was aware of Arel's startled glance, and he held one finger to her lips. He had already explained to her the importance of silence in this ceremony, but he knew that she was learning strange, new ways. And she did not yet know how he had carefully scanned the small, tattooed design on the inside of her left arm before he had dared to make love to her.
If her sign had matched his own, their union would have been forbidden. The young Male's heart had pounded wildly when he examined her marks, for he wanted her beautiful body enough to defy the taboo, and yet it would have meant death for them both. How he had praised the Father of Mountains when he saw that the Wolf, whose pattern he bore on one powerful arm, was not tattooed into his Love's soft skin. Instead, she wore the tiny but unmistakable image of the lithe Kalamin deer.
Rajan's deep voice startled Darek out of his reverie, for he was gazing down at his Kitten, and remembering the night in his tent, his first taste of her ripe lips and lithesome body...and the two nights since they had arrived at the Black Cliffs, where he had taught her more and more of love in the warm chamber that was his own within the caves of the mountain.
"Hast thou the bonds for thy mate?" The Master was watching him closely, his dark brows drawn together in a frown.
Darek reached into a leather bag and brought out the bracelets of carefully hammered gold, connected by a heavy chain of the same metal. He had decided not to worry the girl with the details of the ceremony, but perhaps that had been a mistake. Now, Kitten's amber eyes widened, and her lips parted in astonishment, as Darek grasped her wrists behind her back, placed the open bonds over them, and then clamped them shut. Only the key that he wore at his neck would open them. He clasped Arel's waist reassuringly, but she cried, "Darek, why are you doing this to me? I thought you loved me!"
"Shhh! Don't speak, Kitten!" Darek touched her lips again in warning, but it was too late. Rajan's dark eyes bore a fierce glitter, and he rose out of his chair. "She does not understand, my Lord," the young Male said quickly. "Arel will be silent. Be still," he cried in a harsh voice. "It is forbidden for you to speak! If you speak again, you will be gagged as well as bound!"
Her eyes were brimming with tears that frosted the lacy dark lashes and glittered on her cheeks. "It is our way, Arel," he whispered gently, "but it is only for this time of ritual. I will never hurt you, Kitten..."
"It is well. The woman is bound to thee, Darek, son of Javik. Take her to thy dwelling. But first, speak with me alone. I have much to say to thee." Rajan was standing, arms folded, his black eyes fierce and probing. Darek picked up his mate and carried her to an outer chamber, where he quickly unlocked her bracelets.
"Wait here, my Love," he murmured, touching his lips gently to her cheeks and forehead. "I will not be long."
She was smiling at him again, now that the bonds were removed, and Darek knew that she still trusted him. "And you will speak to him of my sister, as you promised?" she asked.
Darek smiled and answered, "As I promised, Kitten," but the words had a hollow ring in his own ears. He had sent his men back to look for the girl as soon as they had arrived safely at the Fortress, but no trace had been found of her. She was cunning and courageous, and yet her own skills at eluding them might mean her death in these mountains. If a wolf pack had found her, or worse, a band of Outcast Males, she might even now be dead, and his promise less than useless.
But now that Arel was bound to him, he could ask Rajan for permission to take her outside the fortress and carry on the search. Riding by his side, free and unhurt, Arel would be a living sign that no harm awaited Thena, if she would only show herself. And that was another assurance that he must get from Rajan, that the girl would not be made a captive if she were found. It was a favor the Master had never yet granted to any Female. Darek sighed inwardly, and drew Arel to him for a long kiss.
"You are truly mine now," he whispered, "and never will I bind you as I did on this day!"
"There is no need, my husband," the girl murmured, her huge eyes gazing deep into his. "I love you, and..." A deep blush suffused her cheeks and bosom. "And I long for you to hold me again."
Leaving her in the outer chamber, Darek returned to the presence of his ruler. The Master ordered his guards to leave, and then he barred the door behind them.
The two Males faced each other silently for a moment, and then a broad smile curved the lips of Rajan. He strode forward and seized Darek's hand while clapping him on one shoulder. "You brought back only one prize, my Brother," he laughed, "but I can see that you think her well worth the journey! And she's a pretty little thing!"
Darek smiled and returned the pressure of his brother's hand, but his heart was still uneasy. Rajan was in a good humor, that much was certain, but how would he react to Darek's request? The young Male had no fear of any living creature, but he respected and loved his elder brother. I have no wish to bring the sword of anger between us, he thought resolutely. But I must keep my promise to Arel.
"Sit down, Darek," the other Male said, pointing to a carved chair covered in thick fur. "Bring us something to drink," he ordered a servant who had entered in response to his call. "My brother has returned from his journey, and that's a reason to celebrate." Rajan's eyes gleamed wickedly for a moment, and he added, with a smile at Darek, "And I have other reasons as well. You aren't the only one who returned from your hunt with a prize."
Darek had to swallow deeply from his cup before he could answer. "You took many deer?" he asked, leaning forward in sudden apprehension. "I noticed that your lead wolf, Karesh, was not at your feet today..." He stopped at Rajan's frown, but then the mood passed, and the older Male downed the amber liquid in his cup at one gulp, setting the vessel on the arm of his throne-chair with a thud.
"Not deer," he laughed, his dark eyes suddenly burning, his sensual lips parted to show his white, even teeth. He glanced down at the three wolves that still kept watch at his side. "And I lost Karesh to a She-cat's claws. But I brought the Cat home, Darek." Rajan leaned back in his seat in obvious satisfaction. "She is in my chamber. You will see her when she is tame enough to be bound to me."
The younger Male stood up abruptly. "A Female?" he cried, unable to contain himself. "Where did you find her? What does she look like? Have you harmed...have you taken her body?"
Rajan was on his feet now as well, his expression puzzled, but not yet angry. And yet it might come to that, Darek knew, if what he suspected were fact.
"Do I look like a whelp?" Rajan laughed. "Of course I took her. I breached her maidenhead just this night past, and all through this night..." His voice grew lower, and he looked past Darek, into the empty space of the room. "There is something about this one, some Female magic I haven't known before. Even now, I find myself wanting her."
"Did you remark her sign?" Darek demanded. He saw his brother's eyes narrow in scrutiny.
"I did. You wouldn't accuse me of breaking the Taboo?" Rajan's voice was still calm, but there was an undertone of menace, and Darek wondered if he had gone too far. If he had, it was too late to turn back. He had to know the truth. His brother continued, "Her sign was the Deer. I hope that relieves your mind."
"It does not!" Darek cried, unable to restrain himself any longer. "The Female is Arel's sister, who followed us here from the Lake. I promised her that no harm would come to Thena, that she would be free to see her sister, and to come and go from our city at will!"
The two powerful Males faced each other again, but this time the taste of anger was in the air. Darek tensed his body. He and Rajan had fought in their youth, but never to do real injury. And now that Rajan was their leader, to attack him was rebellion against the Black Cliff people as well...
"Your promise was made too quickly, my Brother." Rajan's voice was cold and calm, but his heightened color betrayed his anger. "You had no right to make a pledge that you couldn't keep, but I understand why you did it. Your Mate has bewitched you, but she'll have to learn to accept our ways. And Thena is mine now." The Ruler took a deep breath and seemed to be making an enormous effort to restrain himself. "What would you do, Darek, if I were to demand that you let Arel go? Never see her again? Wouldn't you want to kill me before you'd let that happen?"
"But I love Arel!" The words left his lips before Darek could think of what he said. But he wouldn't recall them. He stood as defiant as before, glaring at his brother, his own heart pounding.
"Love!" Rajan's lip curled in a sneer, and he shook his black-maned head violently. "You can't love a Female, Darek! They're not to be trusted, and they don't think as we do. Their bodies are useful, for making love, for getting sons, for certain kinds of work, but that's all. I want to keep this Female because her body and her face are beautiful. And there's much I want to do to that body. Many new ways of love that I want to teach her." He licked his lips in obvious anticipation, his eyes gleaming. Darek clenched his fists.
"When we called you Lujal for a sport-name, we chose well, Brother!" he said in a low, angry voice. "You are as brave as the wolves you hunt with, but sometimes you are even more savage." For a moment, Darek felt like a small boy again. He remembered the times that his older brother had rescued him from trouble, and taught him the ways of their fierce world, and he felt a wetness in his eyes that shocked him.
He saw a glimmer of remembrance cross Rajan's face too, and then the strong features relaxed into a smile. "Little Brother, no Females should ever come between us, for any reason. Your pretty Mate wants to be with her sister, and she will be. In fact, she has me to thank that she still has a sister. I found her in the jaws of my pack and ready to tumble off the Chynak Crag. I brought her home, bathed her, and made love to her. That's all. She hasn't been hurt in any way, except for the little wound that all Females must bleed from, the first time of love. You can tell your Kitten that you've kept your promise. That Thena is safe with me, and that soon, when the She-cat has learned to keep her claws in, she'll be bound to me as my Queen. Won't that satisfy your promise, Darek?"
There was something almost wistful in the powerful Male's last words, and Darek stared at his older Brother in confusion. Then he nodded quickly, and Rajan strode forward and embraced him in a quick, rough fashion. Drawing back, they looked at each other, and Rajan laughed, while Darek smiled in relief.
It was over, and the younger Male saw the wisdom of it. When he told Arel that her sister's life had been saved by their Ruler, and that soon they would be together every day, she would be overjoyed. The anxious look he had seen too often since Thena had disappeared would be gone from his Kitten's lovely face. They would be happy together.
"Your mate is waiting for you, Darek. And she seems to be under your spell, as much as you are under hers!" Rajan was looking at him with a smile as mischievous as when they were boys together, and had conspired to disrupt the elders' meeting with a well-placed Fire Melon, planted in the Flame Pit and exploding its seeds in all directions when the heat called on it to spawn.
"I wish you many sons, Lujal," Darek said warmly, turning to enter the chamber where Arel waited.
"And I wish you the same," Lujal laughed. "Many sons from long nights of love!"
With a brief salute of farewell, Darek entered the chamber where Arel waited. "She's alive and safe," he cried immediately. "Thena is here in the fortress. You'll see her very soon!"
His Kitten's lovely lips parted in a gasp of joy, and she embraced him. "Oh, Darek," she murmured, "you kept your promise. Now I know that you truly love me."
As he clasped her in his arms and carried her toward their new home, Darek could only hope that Thena would adapt as well to her new life as Arel had done. The flame of doubt rose in his mind, but he quenched it in the moist, soft lips of his tawny-haired love.
Even before he saw the empty bed and the frayed ropes, Lujal, Lord of the Black Cliff Males who knew him as Rajan, sensed that his captive had escaped. The heavy door was still barred on the outside, and so he knew that she must be somewhere in the series of chambers that were his dwelling. There was no other way out.
The three wolves had accompanied him into the room, and they growled, their legs stiff, the hair rising along their necks and backs. "Stay!" he commanded, pointing to the door. "Guard!" Obediently, they trotted to their places and sat watching him intently, their eyes glowing in the perpetual shine of the cavern walls.
One chamber was darkened, its walls covered by hides. It was the place where Lujal slept when he wished to rest his body in deep sleep, or to recover from the bloody wounds that he sometimes suffered in hunting or in battle. That's where she will be lying in wait for me, he thought, feeling only amusement at the notion. Armed with one of my weapons, probably, and ready to drive it into my heart. He smiled grimly, and his dark, handsome features reflected the irony of the moment. If I should die by a Female's hand, I hope that Darek will throw my body to the Lazlen birds, to be torn like any carrion. But no, he mused, my brother has always been more tenderhearted than I.
Lujal moved cautiously into the darkened chamber. He threw his head back and scented the air, taking her fragrance immediately, knowing she was there and feeling no fear, only a ferocious longing for her body that smote his chest and loins, made his heart pound wildly and his manhood swell in unbearable desire. And at that moment, as if she sensed his distraction, the She-cat struck, slashing at Lujal's back with his own blade. He felt the searing pain, whirled instantly and faced her. She had darted to a far corner of the room. He saw her eyes and hair radiant in the gloom, and he hardly noticed the blood flowing from his wound.
Quickly, he ripped the hides from one wall, and the phosphorescent rock illuminated the scene, revealed Thena grasping the bloodied knife, her back placed against the wall, and fiery determination in her eyes. The Male clutched his wounded shoulder and laughed aloud. "A bit to the right and you would have been stepping over my dead body now, Beauty, although my wolves would not have let you leave this room alive." He took several steps toward her and halted.
"I shall kill myself, then, and cheat your pack of their sport!" She spoke defiantly, and he watched her, almost mesmerized by her beauty, ignoring the slash in his flesh. Thena's hair was a cloud of golden radiance around her finely shaped features, her full, sensual lips of coral hue, luminous green eyes framed in lacy black lashes, slender nose, and high cheekbones touched with heightened color. And her body...
Moving toward her again, he scanned the lines of her lithe form. The girl was still naked as her captor had left her, and her rounded firm breasts and hips, and slender waist seemed to call for his hands to grasp them. Her tawny-gold skin gleamed in the cave's light, and Lujal longed to put his mouth over her rosy nipples and coax them into tautness, to part her hidden lips and thrust himself inside her.
"No, Thena," he murmured. "You won't kill yourself, because that would cause your sister Arel great pain, and you don't want to hurt her. You've risked your life again and again to try to find her. And now you've succeeded."
The proud young Huntress gasped softly, and her eyes widened in surprise. "She's here?" Thena cried. "Is she well? Have you hurt her?" Her slim hand clutched the knife in a grip of desperation. When Lujal spoke again, his voice was soothing, almost hypnotic.
"She is alive, well, and longing to see you, Beauty," he said. "I've just seen her. She has not been harmed. And she won't be, not by me or any other Male. I swear it!"
Her lovely eyes closed for an instant in exhaustion and release from fear, and in that small space of time, the Wolf sprang, seizing the slender wrist of her knife hand and twisting it until she cried in pain and dropped the weapon.
Lujal's breathing was labored, and his voice was rough with passion. He pulled her savagely to him and pinned her wrists behind her back, while he looked down at her. "I warned you, Beauty," he snarled. "I told you that you would be punished if you used those sharp teeth on me again, and you've nearly killed me into the bargain." His powerful muscles tensed, he lifted her up in his arms, and carried her into a different chamber.
"Will you kill me, then?" She spoke in soft but clear tones, and showed no fear. The Lord of the Black Cliffs shook his head.
"Then I would only punish myself," he answered in a low voice, "and deprive myself of the pleasure I take in your sweet young body."
"What of this Rajan?" she demanded. "Was I not to be his Mate? Surely he will be displeased if you harm me!"
"The game is over, Beauty," he answered, and drew her close to his chest, feeling the firm roundness of her breasts against his skin. "I am Rajan, although my brother Darek and our friends from boyhood have always called me Lujal. And you are mine, to do with as I please!"
She recoiled in horror when he spoke Darek's name. "That is the Savage who carried off my sister! If he is your brother, then she is lost to me! Tell me what he has done to her!"
"He's done nothing but take her as a Bond-mate! My brother is as brave and strong as a lion, but he always had a streak of gentleness. I think your sister has worked some spell on him. He says that he loves her!" Lujal's voice was full of irony as he spoke, and he felt the girl renew her struggles in his arms. He placed her on her feet and held her tightly against him.
"How can I believe you?" she cried. "Unless I see her well and safe, I cannot rest!"
"The sooner you submit to me and call me Master, the sooner you'll see her," he said harshly. "But for now, you must learn obedience. I can't take a woman to my bed who tries to kill me every chance she gets."
She struggled violently, but he dragged her to a pillar of rock, where a metal ring had been driven into the surface. He turned her to face the pillar and tied her wrists firmly to the ring. Taking a deep breath, Lujal reached down and picked up a many-lashed whip of black leather. The girl had twisted around to look at him over her shoulder, and he heard the quick intake of breath when she saw the whip.
"You are a coward!" she hissed. "But you will never be able to lie easy next to me, unless I am tied hand and foot, for I swear by the Star of Day that I shall kill you, Lujal."
The powerful Male didn't answer. His eyes roved over her smooth body and the golden skin of her firm buttocks. One hand grasped the whip handle tightly and he lifted it high. The lashes flicked over her body and left reddened lines, but she didn't wince or cry out. Lujal brought the whip down again and again, each time with more force. The slap of the leather against her buttocks echoed in his ears, and he felt sweat begin to drip from his body.
Why don't you scream, She-Cat? His chest was burning in growing rage and another feeling, one he could barely acknowledge, shame at what he did. He stepped forward and ran his hand over the soft skin, crisscrossed with fiery marks. "You're so quiet, Beauty," he taunted her, grasping her hair and forcing her to look at him. "Why don't you tell me what you think of me?"
"I think that you are a wolves' whelp, Lujal, that loves to torture the small things which cannot run from it. I think that you are a whining dog in the shape of a Male, and that only the birds which swallow carrion are fouler than you."
The calm, icy tone of her voice, and the slight smile that curved her lips as she spoke, gazing directly into his eyes, staggered Lujal. He stared at her without speaking, and then threw down the whip. "I find that I can do without your words," he snarled.
Grasping a piece of woven cloth, he thrust it into her mouth, choking off whatever words she had meant to speak. He tied the gag brutally in place with a leather strap, and picked up the whip again. After that a frenzy seemed to possess him, and he lashed her until his strong arm was weary. Then he stepped forward, seized her golden hair and twisted her head around so that he could look into her eyes. He saw rage there, defiance, and hatred, but no submission. And then, against her will, he knew, Lujal saw two shining tears well up in the jewel-green eyes and spill over onto her face.
You are as brave as the wolves you hunt with, Lujal, but sometimes you are even more savage!
Darek's remembered words startled him, for they seemed to be spoken aloud in the silent chamber. Lujal, son of Javik, stared at the whip in his hand as if he had never seen it before. When he touched the girl's cheek and felt her tears, they seemed to scald his fingers. "Thena..." Lujal heard himself speak her name in a hoarse, trembling voice. Suddenly hands which seemed to belong to another man were removing the gag from her bruised mouth and untying her wrists.
When he picked her up, he felt her body go limp, saw her eyes close, and knew that the long nights without sleep, the endless journey on foot, and the lack of food or drink had taken her into a death-sleep. He could have added that the whipping had sent her into merciful unconsciousness, but he would not think of that, even as he laid her gently on his bed of furs, laved her stripes in soothing liquid, and covered her with a soft blanket. Lujal knelt by the bed and watched his beautiful captive, his heart pounding, but with fear now, not desire. If she should die... He clenched his fists in sudden despair, and then strode to the door and unbarred it, calling to one of his guards.
And when Darek had been summoned, bringing Arel to nurse her sister, Lujal called his wolves and hunted far into the mountains, that fresh meat might be distilled into broth to nourish his Love, and that new hides might be made into the softest of clothing for her. When he watched by his fire at night in the fortress courtyard, he saw her hair and her face reflected in the flames. And when he knelt by her bedside and saw her stir into consciousness, the bleak hardness melted in his heart and fused into a white-hot flame of some new emotion that he had not known in all the summers he had lived.
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