Authors: D Jordan Redhawk
“What is it, Midia?” Azrael asked, leaning back in her chair to gaze at her slaves.
“Milady, since we are to remain here today, perhaps Ursula and I can go into town and finish buying her clothing,” Midia suggested. “She had only rags when she came to you and now has but one good gown and her dress. Since she is your body slave, she should be appropriately dressed.”
Black eyes studied them. Midia’s expression was matter of fact and Ursula stared at her lap. “What do you think, Ursula? Would you like another dress?”
There was an audible gulp as the slave peered up at Azrael. “I would like to please you, Milady,” she said after a long pause.
Azrael grinned wolfishly. “Oh, you have, Ursula. Never doubt that.” She almost laughed as wide amber eyes displayed unnerving lust. Unwittingly, she became lost in their color. Gods, the woman didn’t know how beautiful she was. With a reluctant sigh, her desire to take Ursula back to bed thwarted by duty, Azrael took the pouch from her belt and tossed it on the table with a clink. “Buy whatever you deem necessary, Midia,” she instructed. “I’ll be with the town council for most of the day.”
“Thank you, Milady,” Midia said, smiling and rising. She approached the table and took the pouch. “I’ll see that Ursula has everything she needs for a slave of her station.”
Azrael also stood, reaching out to take the blonde’s hand and pull her close. “Buy something nice for yourself, Midia,” she said, giving her a gentle kiss on the lips. “Maybe something for Petracal, as well.”
“You are most generous, Milady. Thank you!”
“Ursula.”
Interrupted from her jealousy at the display before her, Ursula approached her mistress. She was pulled into a fiery kiss, a breathless moan escaping her despite her best efforts.
“See to it that Midia buys something for herself. Else she’ll spend all my gold on other people,” Azrael whispered, pausing to nibble a delicate earlobe.
“Yes, Milady,” Ursula said, hands clutching at strong shoulders.
Just as suddenly, she was released. Azrael smiled at them, winking at Midia before striding from the tent.
Midia allowed her companion to gain control of her emotions before stating, “I think we can find all sorts of things that are finer than that peasant dress.”
Ursula patted her cheek, feeling the heat reflecting from her skin. “Yes,” she finally said. “That would be nice.”
Chuckling, Midia took the dazed brunette’s hand and tugged her toward the entry. “The sooner we get to market, the better the deals to be had.”
Good gods, how many times did she have to repeat herself? Azrael gritted her teeth and attempted once more. “While I can appreciate your circumstances, I am but a lowly vassal to King Shonal. It’s not my place to rule in this matter.”
“Well, yes, of course, Lord Azrael,” the magistrate agreed, eyes glancing about the room. “But you’ve the most experience in dealing with the King. You know him far better than we.” He waved a pudgy hand at the gathered council.
A handful of men sat around the table representing Provey - merchants, crafters, and farmers all. Their peers had elected them to aid the magistrate in defining local laws and relegating judgments. At the moment, they were arguing a minor point of law handed down by the King months prior regarding the distribution of wheat.
“Gentlemen,” Azrael said, leaning forward, her eyes raking over the assembled. “I haven’t communicated with our liege other than carrier pigeon and messenger for two years. You may not know this but I don’t spend much time at court, even when I’m home. My cousin and I don’t discuss politics - that’s why he has aides and councilors.” She sat back, lifting her mug of wine. “I’m simply a soldier obeying her King.”
Chuckling half-heartedly, the magistrate said, “Hardly a ‘simple’ soldier, Lord...” His smile faded at the pointed look he received. Bowing, he said, “Of course, Lord Azrael. I understand completely.”
The general was certain he understood nothing but let it pass.
“Pardon, Lord,” a nondescript man said from across the table. A merchant, he was dressed in clothing far finer than his heavy peasant face. “Is it possible for you to convey messages to King Shonal? Lord Morvri informed us you would be returning to the capital soon.”
Azrael reined in her anger at Morvri discussing the comings and goings of any armies with these men. Loose lips could cause disaster should enemies of the realm get wind of troop movements. With a regal nod, she said, “Of course. I’d be more than happy to be of assistance.”
Pleased with her acceptance, the men fell to discussing what they should say to their liege, leaving Azrael blissfully alone for a few moments. Smothering a sigh of relief, the dark woman drank from her mug and entertained herself with thoughts of the night before.
Who knew the timid little brunette could be such a lusty wench? Ursula’s sexual experience was lacking but she more than made up for it with her passionate attempts to please her mistress. Azrael, having discovered the brunette was a virgin, wondered how their lovemaking would alter things. Many a sweet girl became a veritable harpy the following day. She was pleased to note that Ursula held her peaceful quality come morning, a tender heart that wasn’t daunted by the ravenous creature she’d become.
Azrael smiled to herself, recalling Ursula’s constant blush and avoidance of Midia. She’d soon get over her inhibitions as far as the other body slaves were concerned. Sooner or later all of them did. Still, it would be nice if Ursula remained as she was, a gentle woman bearing the quiet grace of nobility.
Contemplating her next move in taming Ursula, she almost didn’t hear the magistrate.
“Lord Azrael? What do you think?”
Leaning forward, the general took the parchment offered her, feigning interest in something she cared nothing about.
The women stopped to eat at a stall just off the main market area. Settled on a bench outside, they tucked into biscuits with meat and vegetables baked inside. At their feet were the spoils of their excursion, several bundles wrapped in cloth and twine.
Their shopping had been rather one sided with Midia leading the way through the market as well as conversation. Keenly aware of Ursula’s discomfort, the blonde attempted to act normal, hoping to ease her companion from her bad humor. Ursula remained silent, however, and Midia became increasingly concerned.
Deciding to take the bull by the horns, Midia sighed. “You’ve been very quiet today, Ursula,” she said. “Are you all right?”
Caught out, Ursula swallowed hard, nearly choking on her food before croaking, “I’m fine. Really.”
“Good.” Midia watched the slave take a hasty sip of water from the canteen they’d brought with them. “I know that our mistress’
appetites can be rather extreme at times. Sometimes she doesn’t know her own strength.”
Ursula blinked at her. “She’s hurt you?”
Smiling as she scoffed, Midia patted Ursula’s hand. “By accident when she was younger and much less experienced. It’s never been repeated.” Midia became serious, grasping Ursula’s hand to punctuate her sentence. “It’s not by design, you know. If Milady hurts you, tell her. She’ll not enjoy causing you pain.”
The slave made a sound of acquiescence in her throat, returning to her half eaten meal.
“Was last night the first time for you?”
The meat turned to dust in Ursula’s mouth and she forced it down. “Yes,” she whispered. Fingers tickled her temple and she looked to see Midia gently brushing her hair back with a kind smile.
“It can be overwhelming whatever your experience. I see why you’re so withdrawn today. You have much to think about.”
“Why are you not...?” Ursula blurted, “How can you not be...?” At a loss, she shook her head, brow furrowed.
“Jealous?” Midia supplied.
Grinding her teeth, Ursula ducked her head. “Yes, jealous. I don’t understand. If I were in your place, I would be.” She had been in Midia’s place and felt the sickening emotion so strong it besieged her.
“There’s nothing to be jealous of. Jealousy implies ownership and we do not own our mistress.” Midia left her hand on Ursula’s shoulder. “It was the same when Felicia and Vincenza came to Lady Azrael’s bed. She is a very accomplished lover, I’ll admit, but the four of us are a part of her family. She depends on us as we depend on her.”
Ursula chewed on that thought, having no experience. The camaraderie she enjoyed with Midia was foreign to her. Being the only slave in her village, she’d had no one else who empathized with her. She was now heir to three companions who understood intimately who and what she was.
“There will be times that our mistress will call someone else to her bed or even take a lover,” Midia said. “That does not mean she cares for us any less. Her lovers are few and far between and she’ll always need us to watch over her.”
Sighing, the brunette nodded, heart sinking.
Midia pursed her lips, eyes kind. “You’re unconvinced.” With a soft sigh, she continued, “We will always have a place in our mistress’ heart, Ursula. No matter who shares her bed, we all belong to her; we all care for her as she cares for us. The physical act...” Midia shrugged and waved negligently. “While enjoyable, it’s not the only way she shows her caring.”
Confused between her heart and Midia’s words, Ursula closed her eyes, trying to think. “How can she care? She knows nothing of me. I’m only a slave she acquired by accident in a raid.” She snorted, turning to look at her companion. “I would have been on that auction block but for those soldiers who disobeyed orders.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do!” Ursula insisted. She inhaled deeply, her food forgotten, amber eyes shining with unshed tears. “You weren’t in the village. You didn’t see her. She wasn’t looking for another slave to warm her bed or help you take care of her. She was as vicious as her reputation, killing several survivors in cold blood before condemning the rest to a life of servitude.”
Midia leaned forward, trapping the brunette’s fists in her hands. “I have seen how she is, Ursula. I’ve been with her for ten years and have gone through three campaigns as her body slave. I know of what you speak. I cannot explain her nature other than she’s a wild creature and does what needs doing in order to survive.” Sighing, the blonde shook her head, forestalling argument. “No, hear me. Our mistress has a clear line dividing all she meets into two groups - those with her and those against. If you’re with her, she’s loyal to a fault, even to her slaves.”
“And if you’re not?”
The blonde frowned. “If you’re not, she has no thought of you whether you be innocent or guilty, man or woman. No judgments passed. You’re nothing.”
Ursula’s eyes were as stark as her words. “On which side of the line do I stand?”
A smile smoothed Midia’s face and she gently cupped Ursula’s cheek. “You’re one of us, now.”
Tears spilled over. Ursula nodded and shrugged, looking away. Reconciling her feelings when Azrael was near to bloody memories of impalement nearly split her in two. Which was real, the sensation of safety and fondness reflected in black eyes or the screams of people she knew as they died in agony?
Midia slowly rubbed Ursula’s back, letting the tears flow. They were needed for her to heal, to merge heart and mind. It was not surprising that Ursula had no idea of her worth in their owner’s eyes. But Midia knew. When Felicia and Vincenza had been brought into the fold, Azrael never looked at them the way she did Ursula. Something was at work here that was beyond a decade of experience and Midia wondered if their mistress had finally found her heart.
Hoping such was the case, she held Ursula until the sobs eased. If anyone deserved love it was Lady Azrael. And if anything could make it come about, it would behoove Midia to assist.
“Here now,” she said, using a corner of her sleeve to wipe the tears away. “You’ll feel better as time passes, Ursula.”
The brunette nodded, chewing her upper lip. The canteen was pushed into her hands and she took a drink. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she decided that perhaps she did feel a little better.
“If we’re finished here, I’ve a mind to look at the stall with those beautiful hair combs. Are you interested?”
A tentative smile crossing her face, Ursula nodded.
Azrael wasn’t surprised to find her slaves had not returned from their trip into town. A fond smile lit her face as she viewed the silent interior of her tent, knowing Midia loved shopping nearly as much as her family. The general had no doubt there’d be nothing left of the gold she’d sent the pair away with this morning.
Not wanting to be indoors, she scooped up a canteen and easily lifted a heavy chair, bringing it outside. Azrael settled in the late afternoon sunshine, using a large rock for a footstool as she stretched out and crossed her ankles.
The meeting with the council had gone well enough, all things considered. It seemed they were as wary of dealing with Azrael as she was with them. Fortunately, the awkwardness wouldn’t be revisited, it having been decided that the general had done all she could to facilitate things. No further meetings had been scheduled, a significant relief from the burden of politics Azrael planned on enjoying to the best of her ability.
Azrael idly watched the comings and goings of her camp, nodding occasionally to soldiers passing close enough to require a salute. Immersing herself in the ambiance, she felt her anxiety fade away.
Her father, youngest of three princes, had told her long ago she had no aptitude for anything other than fighting or farming. She’d never discovered if he was pleased with her lack of political acumen, but he didn’t stint her training in those areas where she excelled. The thought of spending days on end inside a stuffy hall pronouncing judgment over minor issues was repugnant, however necessary they may be. Azrael spent hours at her father’s side learning statecraft and conniving ways to escape to the stables and saddle her horse.
A faint smile perched on Azrael’s face at the memories - fidgeting in fine clothing as the local folk put forth their disputes in hope of favorable decrees from their landlord. Despite her lack of attention on weighty matters of local law, her father had imbued her with a refined sense of justice, a view of right and wrong that ran deep. Azrael’s view was also stark, something her father hadn’t expected. All was good or bad, black or white. She’d taken over the estate after his death from a nasty wound nearly eight years ago and had quickly earned a reputation of being extremely harsh yet very fair in all her dealings.