Captive Mail (4 page)

“About a week. I stil have to finish your back. I’ve been waiting for it to heal.”

Harlan groaned. The herbs Frytha had given him must have been far more potent than he’d thought. The only good thing was that he felt a lot better. He hoped he’d soon be back to his ful strength.

“Are you thirsty, male?”

“Aye.” He glanced at her as she reached across to pour him some water from a jug. “My name is Harlan.”

She helped him sip the water and then took the cup away. “You have no name until the princess gives you one.

When she does,
if
she does, I’l add it to your brand.”

For the first time, a sense of helplessness overwhelmed Harlan and he closed his eyes. What had he done to deserve this? To be ignored and treated as if he had no value, no worth in these women’s eyes.

The woman touched his shoulder. “I’m done for today. I think they are moving you into the handmaidens’ quarters this afternoon.” Harlan just nodded and she pressed his shoulder again and whispered. “My name is Gil a. May the goddess be with you.”

He was so starved of human interaction that, for a moment, Harlan felt an unaccustomed lump in his throat at the tiny act of kindness. Had he real y been brought so low?

He had to find a way out of this madness before he started to doubt his own sanity.

“Now up with you, male.” Frytha slapped at his unmarked shoulder. “It’s time to take you to the handmaidens’

quarters.”

Harlan got slowly to his feet and waited patiently until the guards unchained him from the wal and led him out. For the moment, it was a pleasure simply to be upright and smel ing the warm, scented air of the mountains. He was now certain that was where he stil was. The woman in his dreams had always been connected to the wildness of the mountains.

His guards turned to the left, away from the temple, and began to climb a steep sloping pathway that led to a squat, yel ow stone building that leaned against the side of the temple. Harlan ducked his head as they entered through a low stone archway and entered a courtyard fil ed with sunshine. He lifted his head to the sky and breathed deeply before the guards forced him forward again.

In the center of the courtyard, three women awaited him.

He’d already met the Lady Agnes and Astrid, but the other was unknown to him and appeared to hold a position of power. Her sharp gaze slid over him as he studied her in return.

“Kneel, male. You dare to look me in the eye?”

Harlan sighed as he was pushed to his knees again, and for once, he didn’t try to speak. He watched the woman’s sandals pace the purple sand in front of him.

“I am Lady Hilda, the Temple Mistress. It is my job to make you ready for the princess and for your dedication to the goddess on earth.” She reached down and grabbed his chin, making it impossible for him not to look her in the eye.

“You wil obey me and become a credit to the temple and to your lowly race.”

Harlan forced himself to look resigned and she released him. Why did al these women hate men so much? What had happened here?

“We do not have much time. Take him to his quarters.”

Harlan frowned as he was marched into the building and then found himself gaping instead. The center of the building was open and composed of a series of baths and gardens. But it wasn’t the magnificence of the setting that drew his attention; it was the abundance of females.

Everywhere he looked they were turning to stare at him, to point and shriek. Too soon, the guards stopped at a barred doorway and unlocked it. To Harlan’s surprise, the room held more comforts than he had expected. There was a large bed, a couch and a table.

“Sit.” One of the guards pointed to the chair. “The blacksmith is coming.”

Harlan sat down awkwardly, his hands stil chained behind his back, and viewed his new surroundings with a combination of surprise and suspicion. A tal woman came through the door, wearing a blacksmith’s apron and carrying an assortment of tools and metal objects. Harlan tensed as she turned to him.

“Hold him stil .” The blacksmith produced a circlet of gold and wrapped it around Harlan’s throat. “This wil fit perfectly.

Let me weld the ends together.” She placed one of her gloved hands against his throat to shield it from the soldering iron.

Harlan flinched as heat sizzled close to his skin and the tang of warm metal fil ed the room.

“Where’s the chain?” the blacksmith asked. “I’l clip it in place.”

Harlan could do nothing as a loop of chain was connected to the col ar around his neck. So much for escaping. If he ever tried, he’d have to rip the other end of the chain out of the wal and carry the whole damn lot with him. But at least he had the freedom to roam the room.

The blacksmith ran her finger around the inside of the metal col ar. “Frytha, you’l need to use some salve on his skin until he gets used to the abrasion.” Her fingers stil ed over the pulse at his throat. “He is a very fine specimen indeed.”

“Thank you,” Frytha said. “He stil needs to remember his place, but in truth, I think the goddess made a fine choice for us.”

Harlan sighed as they al continued to talk about him as if he wasn’t there. Eventual y, the guards released his hands and everyone left him alone. There was no solid wal on the side of his cel , just bars, so he had no real privacy at al .

His chair faced out onto the direction of the central atrium and he could hear the sound of feminine laughter and the fountains. He had to concentrate on the positives. He had more space than he’d had before and the ability to move around. Surely those were good things?

He got up and careful y paced out his new domain.

Someone had measured the length of the golden chain very accurately, as it pul ed him up about three feet short of the door in the corner. When he’d been on Earth with the king and queen, he’d visited something cal ed a zoo where exotic animals and birds were caged for people to look at.

He’d wondered at the time how that must feel and now he suspected he would find out. Was he real y the only male at the temple complex?

He gazed out into the hal way and wondered whether Gil a would come back to finish his “branding”. The artwork over the left side of his chest and down his arm to his elbow was very fine and wrought in a complex pattern of black and blue. He had no idea what the symbols meant, but he thought they might be from the old Norse language that some said was connected to the Valhal an Vikings’ roots.

Turning away from the temptation of the world beyond his cage, Harlan noticed there was food and wine laid out on the table. He sniffed the wine suspiciously, wary of Frytha’s potions, but couldn’t smel anything bad and took a sip. The sweetness rol ed over his tongue and he drank more, adding bread and figs to his repast.

For the first time in a long while, he actual y felt both replete and relaxed. He yawned and glanced at the bed. If no one was coming to find him, he might as wel enjoy the pleasures of sleeping in comfort.

*

Inga waited as the guard unlocked the door to the male’s new temporary home and went inside. He was asleep on the bed on his side, his long limbs tangled, his face beautiful in repose. Inga motioned to the guard to chain him to the bed and waited for him to wake up. As he stirred, she touched the elaborate inked patterns on his chest and arm.

If he survived to give her children, she would add to the inscriptions, giving him a new history of honor. If he failed her, or refused to cooperate, he would die.

His eyes opened and she noticed how dark a blue they were. He licked his lips and focused on her face, his expression now wary.

She brushed her thumb over his lower lip. “Good evening, male. Do you like your new quarters?”

He didn’t speak and she smiled. “I’m glad that you have at least learned one lesson. You may answer me.”

He swal owed hard. “I do not how to address you, my lady.”

“You may cal me Princess or my lady. Do you wish for more wine?”

His glance flicked down to his chains. “No, thank you, my lady.”

“Then I wil explain your new duties to you.” Inga sat back and stroked his thigh. “This is the handmaidens’ quarters.

You wil pleasure al the females here who want you.”

“Does that include you?”

“No.” She cupped his bal s, marveling at the smooth roundness and the soft curve of his skin. His cock started to stiffen and she stroked him with her fingers. “You have to prove your worth to mate with a princess.”

“Am I the only male here?”

“I said you might answer me, not question me.” She squeezed his bal s and his shaft lengthened even more.

She wondered how he would feel in her mouth, in her sex…

“Your job is to please the females here.” She circled the tip of his cock with her finger until he was wet and then sucked her finger into her mouth. His eyes widened as he watched her taste him.

“Why aren’t there more men?” he asked hoarsely.

She stopped licking her finger. “Perhaps you should ask a different question. Why do you think most of the women are here?”

“Because they could not find a man?”

She snatched her hand away from his groin. “What a typical male answer. That is exactly why you shouldn’t be al owed to ask questions. You think you are so important.

The only thing you can give a woman is your seed.”

“And is that al you want from me?”

“Yes.” She got off the bed, leaving him hard, his big, thick, tempting cock arching away from his bel y. “That is al .”

He turned his head to stare at her. “But that is not al there should be between a man and a woman, my lady.

What of companionship, of friendship? What of
love
?”

She scowled at him. “You speak of things that have no value here and that are lies!”

“I speak of what I know, my lady.”

“And you lie.”

He sighed. “If you gave me my freedom, Princess, I would show you otherwise.”

Inga stomped toward the door. “Ha! This is just another attempt to deceive me. If I set you free, you’d kil me and run away.”

“I wouldn’t kil you.”

“But you would leave.” She swung around by the door and met his gaze. “No man ever stays wil ingly with a woman, does he?”

His expression darkened. “Not mayhap if he is treated like a rabid dog.”

“Your kind are
animals
.”

“My kind? That’s half the Valhal an race!”

“Nine tenths of it, I believe.” Inga raised her chin. “Ask any of the women here if they think you deserve to be chained.

They wil al agree with me.”

She nodded at the guard to open the door. “Good night, male.”

“I’m cal ed Harlan, Princess. At least grant me the dignity of a name.”

She didn’t turn this time. “
I
wil choose your name when
I
think you deserve one,
male
.”

Inga proceeded to the central atrium, her temper stil aroused. How dare he pretend to be so civilized! She knew that the moment he was unchained, he would do anything to escape. He’d practical y admitted it! Frytha and Lady Hilda stopped talking when they saw her and bowed their heads.

“Is everything al right, Princess?” Frytha inquired.

“The male is…exasperating.”

“Did he try to hurt you?”

Inga took a seat and slipped off her sandals. “No, he tried to pretend that he was quite harmless and suggested I should let him free so that he could prove his worth to me.”

“Typical,” snorted Frytha. “Men are such liars.”

Hilda came to sit opposite Inga. “Do you think you wil be able to mate with him?”

Inga thought about the male’s luscious body. “He
is
quite nice.”

“He is more than nice, my lady, and he is very wel endowed,” Frytha said. “I suspect his stamina wil be excel ent too.”

“Wel , that we wil find out soon enough,” Hilda said. “I intend to introduce him to the first of the handmaidens tonight.”

“Are you sure it is safe?”

Hilda smiled. “Of course. We have been doing this for years. He’l be so dosed with love potions that the notion of escape wil never enter his head.”

Inga pictured the scene. “I almost wish I could be there.”

“You should be there,” Frytha said. “You would be able to gauge his progress more readily.”

The three women smiled at each other and Inga slowly nodded. “What an excel ent idea.”

Harlan sat up as Frytha came into his room bearing a bowl of steaming hot water. Three women crowded in after her and he eyed them al warily. From what the princess had said, he was supposed to give pleasure to al the handmaidens of the temple. From what he’d seen, there appeared to be rather a lot of them.

The females cooed over him, brushing his long black hair and smoothing perfumed oil into his skin that made the marks of his branding throb. He’d never minded being petted by his queen, but this was somehow different, as if it wasn’t real y about him but about what he represented. And he supposed that was accurate if al they wanted was his hard cock and his seed…

“Drink this, male.” Harlan instinctively closed his mouth as Frytha approached him with a golden cup. She frowned and motioned to one of the guards. “Either drink it wil ingly or I’l make you.”

Harlan sniffed cautiously at the potion, but it smel ed quite sweetly of mul ed wine and spices. “What is it?”

“None of your business.”

He sighed. “Wil it harm me?”