Captive Mail (2 page)

“You are missing your mate that much?”

“Aye.” Sven hesitated. “She might be breeding.”

Harlan clapped him on the back. “But that is wonderful news.”

Sven looked glum. “Terrifying, you mean. My first mate died in childbed. I do not want to lose Thea. She is my heart. “

Despite his ferocious size and frightening expression, Harlan knew that Sven spoke the truth. Thea was Sven’s soul mate in every way. No wonder his friend had seemed so distracted lately.

“Don’t worry, Sven. We should be home in a few days.

I’m sure Thea wil survive your loss.”

“Thea is fine. She thinks my concern for her is amusing.”

“Then let’s go and tel the king of our suspicion, and maybe you’l be going home faster than you think.”

*

The woman shaded her eyes against the glare of the firelight and pointed at the largest of the tents.

“Did you see that male, Astrid? He was built like a rugged cliff wal and his hair was as fiery red as burning cinders! He must be the one we seek.”

“No, the goddess spoke to our priestess of a male with long black hair, not russet.”

“That is a shame.”

Astrid smiled. “Mayhap we wil capture more than one of the beasts and you wil have a choice?”

Her companion sighed. “Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

She shifted slightly on her high perch and peered down through the branches again. “The male helping the redhead has long black hair, it is tied in a braid down his back.”

“Then the goddess be praised, it seems that we have found the one we seek.”

Harlan woke from another dream of the blonde-haired woman to find Sven staring down at him, his pointed gaze on Harland’s erect cock.

“You need a female, my friend. You kept me awake last night with your groaning.”

Harlan wrapped a hand around his unruly shaft. “I can only apologize.”

Sven’s smile was slow in coming, but surprisingly wicked. “No need for that, just be warned that if you do it again tonight, you might wake up to find I’ve tied the thing in a knot.”

Harlan laughed until Sven bowed and left him to get up by himself. During the night, he’d slept badly and sensed movement outside the tent, soft voices and even softer shadows, but every time he’d roused himself completely, the shadows were gone. With a groan, he splashed cold water on his face and al owed it to trickle down his body. It was time to join the king on his hunt and face whatever dangers lay in the secret forest below the mountains.

He saddled his
wulfran
and checked his weapons for the fiftieth time. Ahead of him, Sven was talking to King Marcus about the plans for the hunt. Al Harlan knew was that he would stay close to the king and leave Sven to worry about everything else.

The sky was clearing and one of the two Valhal an suns was already peeping over the mountain ridge, bathing everything in a pink glow. The hunting horn sounded and Harlan kicked his
wulfran
into a faster pace, using his knees to stay balanced against the creature’s awkward gait. They were soon swal owed up by the forest, which resembled the jungles he had seen on his visit to the planet Earth. Huge tree trunks were covered in lush foliage and thick vines and the ground was uneven and likely to trip the unwary.

The local guides conferred and then sent the hunting party off to the right, closer to the mountains. Sheer rock now loomed up on Harlan’s right side, increasing his sense of being drawn into an ambush. Beside him, the king looked happy, his gaze focused on the path ahead, one hand easily guiding his mount. He turned to grin at Harlan.

“Stop looking so worried, my friend. Soon we’l have our fil of delicious wild pig.”

The words were hardly out of the king’s mouth before a spear whistled past his head, making him duck and his
wulfran
veer violently to one side. Harlan turned and fol owed the king’s erratic path through the undergrowth. At least he knew the king was alive because he could stil hear him cursing at his
wulfran.
Harlan kicked his own mount and came up alongside the king, reaching across an impossible distance to grasp the broken reins. Just as his fingers final y made contact with the leather traces, his word exploded as a body dropped on top of him, knocking him out of the saddle and down onto the mossy ground. As he rol ed, he was aware of his head banging hard against something and then pain engulfed him and he knew no more.

Harlan awoke with a groan and licked his dry lips. What had happened to him, and more importantly, what had happened to the king? He was aware of a dul , throbbing ache in his head, but he ignored it and tried to sit up. It took him a few panicked moments to realize that he couldn’t move at al . Had he broken his neck in the fal ? Did he lie paralyzed on the forest floor, hidden from sight, alone in this threatening wilderness?

He fought to keep his breathing even and tried to think.

He lay on his back, but it didn’t feel as if he lay amongst the green mossy vegetation of the forest. In truth, it felt more like he lay in a bed. Was he at the summer palace?

Something about the quality of the silence around him and the unfamiliar smel s didn’t seem to fit that scenario either.

He tried to open his eyes, but found himself unable to see.

He was either blindfolded or in complete darkness. Neither option made him feel any better.

He remembered the ambush and the way he’d been forced off his
wulfran
. Had he and the rest of the king’s party been captured, and if so, where was the king? It was his primary duty to find him. He ignored the pain in his head and tried to sit up again, found he was held down by ropes and started to struggle.

A light flared and he caught a glimpse of an unknown elderly woman staring down at him.

“Be stil , male. You cannot escape your bonds.”

Harlan licked his dry lips. “Where am I? Where is my king?”

“That is no longer any of your concern.”

“You don’t understand, I must…”

She put her hand over his mouth. “I am Frytha. You must obey me. That is al you must do or you wil be punished.”

She withdrew her hand and he felt the lip of a bowl against his mouth. “Now drink and go back to sleep.”

He wanted to avoid the foul-smel ing brew, but he was too thirsty to stop himself swal owing it down. Before he could do much more than shudder at the taste, his dreams overwhelmed him again and he plunged into the welcoming blackness.

A pattern emerged. He would awaken and the woman, Frytha, would feed him her noxious potions, ignoring his increasingly anxious questions. Harlan stil had no idea where he was or what had happened to the other members of the hunting party. Were they searching for him or had they al died? While he was awake, instead of just worrying, he tried to loosen his bonds, but mainly succeeded in cutting and bruising his skin.

He tried to count the days, but he had no real sense of time, trapped as he was in the darkness. He only had hope to sustain him and the belief that he was getting better as the pain in his head lessened.

“By the goddess, it stinks in here!”

A new female voice.

Harlan opened his eyes and winced as lights blazed around him and quickly closed them again. He fought to calm his breathing as he sensed more than one person enter his prison.

“He is a big strong male, my lady. I couldn’t lift him to wash him. I had to keep him tied down.”

Harlan remained stil as he felt a hand travel down over his naked body and pause at his groin.

“He is big.” She giggled and cupped his bal s. “I wonder how big?”

“Astrid, let us clean him properly before we get to that.”

Another more practical voice and the sweet scent of steaming hot water. Harlan cautiously opened his eyes a crack and realized there were three women surrounding him. Astrid, the one stil groping his bal s, seemed the youngest. The dark-haired one holding the washing cloth was more his own age.

“Be careful, Agnes. He’s not asleep.”

“As long as he is tied down, I don’t think I need to fear him.”

Harlan sighed as she washed his chest with the soapy water and wondered how long it was since he’d last been able to get clean. She continued washing him and he watched her through lowered eyes. The lady Agnes wasn’t beautiful, but she had a quiet serenity about her that appealed to him. If anyone would answer his questions, he hoped it would be her.

“That’s much better.” She smiled down at him and he held her gaze.

“Where am I, my lady?”

She hesitated and then turned to the older woman. “Wil you fetch me my blade?”

Harlan swal owed hard. “Are you going to kil me?”

“Not if you behave yourself.”

That wasn’t quite as reassuring an answer as he had hoped for. He remained quiet until Frytha returned with a wicked looking knife and another bowl of clean water.

“Ooh, let me help with this!” Astrid said.

“You can certainly put the soap on his skin for me, but you are not capable of shaving him.”

Astrid pouted. “Neither are you. How many years is it since you shaved a male, sister?”

Harlan cleared his throat. “If it pleases you, my lady. I can do it myself.”

Again Agnes ignored him and glared at Astrid. “I am quite skil ed at this.”

“But I like his face like that. He looks wild.”

“And our goddess wil not approve.”

Harlan winced as Astrid slapped some soap on his face and rubbed it into a thick lather. He was stil sore from his fal and her energetic rubbing was reviving his headache.

“Astrid, be careful,” Agnes said.

“Thank you, my lady,” Harlan murmured, but again she ignored him and brandished the blade above his cheek.

He held stil as he felt the scrape of the blade against his throat. But despite Astrid’s concerns, Agnes appeared perfectly capable of shaving him. Harlan let out his breath when she finished. She put her hand under his chin to view her work.

“Oh,” Astrid breathed. “He is beautiful.”

“He is,” Agnes added. “Now for the rest of him.”

She slapped soap on his chest and Harlan flinched.

“What are you doing?”

She final y deigned to look at him. “Shaving you.”

“But…”

She scraped away al the hair on his chest, leaving him feeling even more naked than usual. Then her hand rested on his groin. “I’l need more soap if I am to shave him here as wel , Astrid.”

Harlan struggled against his restraints. “By Thor, you wil do no such thing!”

He groaned as she ignored him and began to scrape away the coarse hair around his cock and bal s. Despite his fears, his cock refused to be intimidated and started to thicken and lengthen. Agnes continued her work and Harlan wondered whether she was aware of his cock at al .

When she’d finished, she sat back and stared at his shaft before running her hand over him. “He is big. The goddess wil be wel satisfied.”

Astrid leaned over him and circled the tip of his cock with her long fingernail. “He is definitely bigger than the last one we caught.” She licked her lips. “Let’s hope he has lots of stamina as wel .” She bent and dropped a kiss on his crown and laughed as his cock jerked.

“Astrid!” Both of the other women admonished her, and for a moment, Harlan was glad they were defending him.

“He is for the goddess, not for you.”

“Only if he passes the test,” Astrid retorted.

Frytha picked up the bowl of soapy water and nudged Astrid. “Help me clear up this mess, sister, and then you can go and tel the Temple Mistress that the male is at least presentable.”

When they exited, Harlan turned al his attention to the woman left behind. Agnes was opening a clay bottle that smel ed of Valhal an flowers and spices.

“My lady,” he murmured. “Please. I wish you no harm. I just want to know where I am and what has happened to my king.”

She dribbled oil into her palms and started smoothing it into his skin.

“I cannot answer your questions, male.”

“Why not?”

He wanted to groan as the warmed oil sank into his skin and she reached behind him to smooth it into his back.

“It is not my place to answer you. I am merely a handmaiden for the temple.”

As she reached around him, her breasts swung temptingly near his mouth, but he resisted the temptation to temptingly near his mouth, but he resisted the temptation to capture one of her hard nipples between his lips and suck it.

“Have you no pity for me, then, a man held captive against his wil ?”

She straightened and al the softness left her face. “None at al , male, as your kind made my life hel .” She climbed off the bed and rubbed her hands on a towel. “I’l send Frytha to wash and comb your hair.”

When Frytha returned, she brought two more women with her. These two were tal and wel muscled and wore armor of some kind. They helped Frytha loosen the ropes on his wrists just enough for Harlan to sit up.

“Don’t try to escape, male, or the guards wil kil you,”

Frytha ordered.

Harlan closed his eyes against the giddiness of being half upright and fought nausea. He had no intention of trying to escape until he gained more of an idea as to what his fate would be. The two female guards stared at him as Frytha washed out his long dark hair and combed it through. Their casual discussion of his physical attributes and potential ability in bed made him feel like a male
wulfran
put out to stud.