Marri's Approach (Brackish Bay) (9 page)

“Is there something I should wear?”

She laughed. “Absolutely not.”

I shrugged, my blush traveling down my chest. “I thought I was supposed to work in the kitchens and earn my keep.”

“If he wanted you to do that, he would have told me. He didn't, so he doesn't. You're just to stay here in his tent and get ready to have your ass toasted again when he gets back.”

“Why? I'll be good.”

She grinned maliciously. “It's how he treated all of us, at one time. Bust our asses every night for the first month and make sure we know who's boss, then random beatings when he feels like it, to keep us on our toes.”

“Us? How many?”

She shrugged with a studied nonchalance that didn't fool me for a second. “Ten.”

“Ten?”

“He's good at finding strays in the forests on his scouting missions.”

“Ah.” I cocked my head at her. “Is that where he found you?”

She half-shrugged. “Not exactly in the forest. My grandfather used to live in a house by the edge of one of the roads.”

“Used to?”

“He liked to experiment with lightning.” I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “It didn't work one time, and set the house on fire.” I made a sympathetic noise in my throat. “I got out.”

“I'm so sorry.”

She shrugged. “Life is hell, and then you die. Death is oblivion, so I will not go quietly into that sweet night. I will gouge my mark on the walls of hell so that I mattered, at least once, to someone.”

Her speech struck a chord in my heart, and I saw how much it hurt for her to be a one-of-many, not a treasured unique one, how hard it was for her to know that right now she was nothing more than a soldier's cunt.

“You will. I will help you, if you let me.”

She snorted with bitter laughter. “You? Help me? Look to your own skin first.”

I shrugged. Fortuna knows I've been ground under the wheel before, but it always turns.

She left the tent, and I lay back down to rest. May as well conserve my energy when I had nothing better to do.

He didn't come back until late that night. In my boredom, I poked around every part of his tent, but there was nothing useful to Brackish Bay or me. The combination locks on my cuffs took some attention, but I wasn't ready to deal with escaping yet. I hoped that the rest of my patrol noticed that I had been taken and did not stay in the same camp. Fortuna, knowing what I know now, I hope they are all safe in Brackish Bay, that they have been captured, even as slaves, because that would be safer than being caught in between the army and the city.

I spent a lot of time going over everything Lorenzo had ever said to me, or that the chef had, in an effort to tease out any inkling of the army's movements or motivations. The best guess, Fortuna, is that they're going to continue to scout to find the actual perimeter of Brackish Bay, then they'll advance by a day. If Roy and Gerard know anything, they'll have their own scouts out, and at least one of them will bring back word so they'll have some notice. How they didn't already have notice, I couldn't begin to guess. But they would begin to prepare, and then the army would attack. Brackish Bay would need to defend, and it could get ugly. I was most worried about Rari, with her lack of external defensive fortifications.

What can I do to keep them safe? I'm in the best place to wreak havoc.

And so it was that I was grinning to myself when Lorenzo stepped inside. He scowled at me.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing, sir, except the feel of your fingers in my cunt. You're
amazing
at that.”

He took a moment to preen, puffing up with the compliment just a bit. “Then I expect you to repay me.”

“Of course, sir.”

He gestured me forwards, and I went, kneeling up when he unfastened his trousers and engulfing his cock in my mouth. My eyes closed. Even here, in enemy territory, this was a pleasure to me. I slid my tongue up and down his shaft, learning the veins and contours before pressing into the most sensitive spot just under the head of his dick. I hummed with pleasure when he responded, his grunts music to my ears. I reached up with my bound hands and, when he allowed it, caressed his delicate balls while I sucked hard.

It wasn't very long before he shot his seed down my throat while I stared up at his eyes. I swallowed, my fingers still milking his balls. He set me back from his body, letting his cock fall from my lips, flaccid, and then he slapped me across the face. I fell to the side, my face burning and my chest heaving with a combination of pleasure and anger. If he wants to play, Fortuna, we'll play. I shoved myself up and flung my body against his, biting and scratching. He knocked me to the ground again, and I lay still for just a moment, winded. He grinned at me, and I curled my lip at him. He dropped over me, his face close to mine. I growled as he bit my ear. When his forearm came too close to my mouth, I snapped at him, catching the skin. I would have bitten it bloody if he hadn't jerked away from me and slapped me again. By this time my cunt was more than ready for his cock. It was dripping between my thighs. I snarled at him, striking hard and fast with fists from close range. He grunted, then slammed my hands above my head, his teeth bared centimeters from my face.

“You're going to pay for that.”

I grinned back, squirming against his body. “You aren't going to hurt me, are you?”

I snapped towards his lips, trying to catch his flesh. He jerked back, then reached for my breast and squeezed. I gasped. His fingers increased their pressure until my face was red, and I was panting from pain.

“Of course I am. You're nothing but a camp girl, a soldier's cunt.”

My voice was a gasp. “Sir!” He leaned down and bit my breast, deliberately sinking his teeth into me until I was moaning incoherently. “Please, sir!”

“Shut up.”

I bit my own lip, my eyes wide, fastened on his face. I hated his face, the thin angles of it, the way his braid pulled the hair tightly back from it. At the same time I loved his face, the cruelty in it, the way his touch hurt so much I couldn't help but be drenched in pleasure.

He gathered my other breast up and squeezed until tears sprang to my eyes, then lowered his head to bite it, too. I moaned. He sat up on his knees, still straddling me. Briefly, I debated kneeing him in the groin, but I'd like to keep the skin on my ass, thank you very much, Fortuna.

He flipped me onto my belly, and I raised my hips to his with a grunting plea.

“You like this too much.”

“Would you prefer I hate it?”

He paused a while. “I don't know.”

I know that tone, Fortuna. I grinned to myself. Every slut learns a few things. He grabbed my hips and pulled me higher, forcing a greater arch into my back, and I whimpered, very quietly.

“Ow.”

“Shut up.”

He pressed his turgid cock against my swollen lips, and I hummed. Suddenly he leaned forward, forcing himself inside me so hard and fast it hurt. I cried out. He tightened his grip on me and began to thrust, slamming in as deeply as he could, bruising my cervix.

I twisted, not hard enough to get away, but hard enough to make him think I wanted to. “Please! Oh, gods, sir, you're too big! It hurts! Please use your fingers instead!”

“No way. You're mine, cunt.”

I continued to mew and cry while he rammed into me like a piston, over and over and over. I clawed and struck at his legs, his hands, tried to crawl away from him and drummed my ankles on the ground. All the while he fucked me.

My orgasm ripped through my body, and I daresay it surprised him. It was unlikely he'd ever experienced a woman coming from his mechanical, painful fucking. Of course, I enjoy that, but he didn't know and didn't care. I melted into a puddle at his knees, my cunt so wet his stiff cock slipped out and his come spattered across my ass. I bit my fingers to hide my grin.

Dazed and blissful I ignored his shocked expression. Abruptly, he rose and washed, then left the tent.

It wasn't long before I heard a crash of dishes and then a wail. The steady slapping sounds could be only one thing; he was taking out his mixed feelings on a woman who didn't enjoy it. I could hear the crying, and still the slapping continued.

I have my own mixed feelings, Fortuna. I could feel my arousal start again, even as the kinder part of my brain sympathized with the hapless woman in the next tent.

Not long after, I drifted into a restless sleep.

Chapter 6

I woke up in the night, my stomach reminding me I'd missed supper. Again. I cut a glare to the man across from me. He'd refastened the cuffs together, so my ankles and wrists were next to each other again. I grumbled silently. It was time for me to get out of there.

In the stillness I could hear the tumblers in the lock fastening my ankle cuffs together. It took an eternity of trying one number at a time, counting up from zero-zero-zero to nine-nine-nine. Thank Fortuna I didn't actually have to reach nine-nine-nine. It snicked into place at four-two-seven. I breathed a sigh of relief and pulled it open. My wrists were harder, because I had to move the dial with my chin. Sometimes the number didn't click into place, and I had to try it again, uncertain if I was missing the combination by a half a hair, or if I should move on to the next number.

I found it eventually, when I was sure my chin was bruised from the repetitive pressure. Five-six-four. I wanted to bite him and bind
his
limbs together with the cuffs behind his back so that he would not be able to unfasten them, but I decided discretion was the better part of valor. I stepped lightly over him. He snored, and I froze. For a very long minute, I did not even breathe.

He rolled over and lay still. I carefully relieved him of the small knife tucked under his belt, then continued towards the tent flap. Once out, I wasted no time before slipping into the tent directly beside that one. I was correct—it was the woman in red. I lay beside her and wrapped my fingers around her mouth. She started awake, her whole body rigid with terror.

My voice was in her ear. “If you will be silent and come with me, I will make sure you make it to safety.”

It's a foolish promise, I
know
that, Fortuna. But if she dies she will not be able to blame me, anyway. She shivered in my arms, and I could feel the longing in her frame.

“Do you want to be a treasured woman? I will take you somewhere that you will be safe.” She still didn't acknowledge my words with more than a tremor. “If you don't nod, I will leave, alone. Will you be silent and come with me?”

Very slowly, there was one nod. Then two.

I nodded against her cheek. “Good girl.”

She shivered again, and I released her mouth, very slowly. She sat up and turned to me. Her eyes widened when she noticed the sheen of a short, sharp knife in my hand.

“What is that for?”

I shrugged. “If you'd screamed, I would have slit your throat.”

She swallowed hard, her fingers touching the delicate skin under her jaw. “By Jesu. You would have killed me.”

I shrugged again. “I told you. I'm a soldier. Now. Get me a dress.” She crawled to a trunk and pulled out a dress, long and red like the one she wore. “What will people think if they see us out together?”

She shrugged, uncomfortable. “I don't know. I'm not allowed out at night. But I don't know how many people would know that.”

“Can we say we're going to the kitchen or some other errand?”

She hesitated. “Not the kitchen, but maybe the armory. They have leather cleaner there, and sometimes master tells me to clean his boots.”

“Good.” We exited the tent, and I let her lead the way to the armory, but after only a few steps, I paused. “Wait. I'll be back in a minute. Stay in the shadows, out of sight.”

The only light came from flickering torches. It was easy enough to hunker down near a tent, so she did. I slipped between the tents to the command center. There was a guard of several men heavily armed men, and I examined them closely from a safe distance. I only needed to deal with one. For a long time I stared at them, watching them pace, watching how lax their vigilance was, there in the heart of the camp. Were they ever alone? I continued to watch. They weren't exactly coordinated. One finished his circuit from past the door to the corner before the other got to the door, which meant he also passed the door when the other was facing away from him. I crept closer.

Timing is everything, Fortuna. The faster guard turned and passed the door while the slower guard was just turning. They passed each other just to the right of the door. And then the slower one was in front of the door while the faster one's back was turned and he was returning to his corner.

I'm counting on that door being unlocked, Fortuna.

I dashed forwards. He turned, a shout not quite on his lips as I struck hard, digging the little knife into his jugular and jerking it across his windpipe. It lodged there. I spun with him, a hand on the doorknob as he fell, dead weight before he hit the ground, the fall landing him just inside the doorway to the command center. I snatched weapons from his belt when there was a lull of shocked surprise, and then there were two knives flying through the air, and two more guards gushing blood on the floor.

There was another door. I stepped lightly to it and listened.

Nothing, Fortuna. Does their commander sleep in here, like General Tell did? I opened the door. He didn't, but there were maps and notes and papers strewn about the table. It was too easy, Fortuna.

I scooped them all into a pile and rolled them up, returning to the outer room to remove a dead guard's quiver and fill it with papers. I opened the door to step out, and came face to face with the faster guard.

I wasn't quick enough, was I, Fortuna?

He struck at me with his sword, and I blocked blow after blow with the quiver, gaining cuts in the leather and in the skin of my arms. Fortuna, if I don't end this soon, I'm going to die, and probably in a really horrible way, too.

Why hadn't he shouted? Why was he silent?