The Master of Her Fate

Chapter 3: The Other Women

Annalyssa awoke late the next day, and for several long minutes she just lay in bed, not knowing or caring where she was. She was wrapped up in some kind of immensely soft fur, her body ached pleasantly in places she'd never felt anything in before, and she was content. As she came more fully awake, however, the memories of last night began to fill her mind,and the contentment was shattered. She sat bolt upright, looking around wildly, and found herself in some other room of the big fur-and-wood building. Apparently the warlord had carried her here after she fell asleep. The bed she lay on was extremely comfortable, and the fur she was wrapped in was long, silky, and luxurious. Anna pushed it away and put her face in her hands. What had she done? She had let herself be taken by a murderous brute, without more than a token resistance! She had ENJOYED it! What kind of godless whore was she? Anna's breath hitched slightly, and tears filled her eyes. The warlord was evil! He had killed her people, enslaved her, destroyed her city! He had taken everything from her and reduced her to a sexual plaything. She should have hated him with every fiber of her being and died rather than let herself be taken by him. Instead, she had been unable to resist. By the gods, he wasn't even good-looking! He was a half-orc!

That thought brought her up short as she considered. Well. . . maybe by the standards of the courts he was ugly. But, as much as it shamed her, Annalyssa couldn't deny that the sight of his body, so huge, powerful, so very male. . . it had stirred her, even when she was afraid of him. That only made her feel worse, a dull flush of shame rising to her cheeks. How her mother would sob if she was still alive, to know what kind of shameless trollop her daughter was. Anna's eyes narrowed, and the fire that had caught Garshan's attention flared. No. She was not a trollop! She had been surprised, that was all, surprised and frightened. She'd never been so much as touched by a man, except to hold his hand and perhaps peck his lips, and the warlord was a good lover. What woman could have resisted him? It wasn't her fault! She pulled her face from her hands, a look of grim determination replacing the shame and sadness. She would resist him next time. She was prepared.

With that settled, she glanced around her new room to see what was there. One wall had a thick wooden beam running across the top of it, and a variety of furs hung from hooks that had been pounded into the wood. She supposed those were her new clothes. Anna rose from the bed and walked naked to the crude closet. The fur here was of even finer quality than her bedding, as soft as silk against her hands. What animal had these come from? She couldn't imagine any bear or wolf having fur like this. Anna rummaged through the clothes, attempting to figure out what was what. There was a small strip of white fur that she supposed was an undergarment, and when she tried to put it on she found that it wrapped comfortably around her loins. The touch of the fur against her folds made her think of his hands last night, and she blushed deeply, pushing the memory away. The fact that it had felt good didn't mean it was right. She wouldn't let him touch her like that again.

The rest of the clothes were fairly easy to figure out. The dresses were of unfamiliar material, but they weren't so different than the ones she had worn as a Duchess. As a matter of fact, they were more comfortable, and easier to put on. How odd, she thought as she laced the front of her leather top up. Who knew barbarians could make clothes so well? It wasn't much to look at, of course, but she thought she'd be able to wear this all day and not feel the slightest discomfort, whereas her old court dresses had become almost unbearable after ten hours. Anna wished she had a mirror. She wondered how well this tight leather complimented her figure.

As she stood there pondering her clothes, the flap door behind her rustled and she spun around at the sound of a footstep, startled and fearful. Was it him? Oh gods, she wasn't ready! She'd just woken up! But no, it was another woman. She was a barbarian by her blue eyes and blonde hair, and a magnificent example of one to boot. The other woman towered over Annalyssa's own five feet five inch height. She was taller than most men of Anna's kingdom, at least six feet, and her figure was as lithely and strongly muscled as a great cat's. She wore very little clothing, only a small, sleeveless bodice that showed off her magnificent breasts and a small skirt of beaded fringe. A smile spread over her face as she saw Anna, and the girl realized she was carrying a tray of fruit and meat.

"Ah, you are awake," she said in Southern Common tongue. She was not as fluent in the tongue as the warlord, but she spoke slowly and so it was understandable. "I have breakfast." She set the tray on a small table that stood near the bed and turned back to Anna. "I am Tharona. Welcome." She held out a strong, graceful hand. Anna regarded her timidly for a long moment, not sure what to do. This towering beauty was intimidating. Tharona let her hand drop after a moment and said, "You do not need to be afraid. I will not hurt you. The Master sent me to settle you in."

She used the word 'Master' in the same way he had told Annalyssa to last night, and she blinked, surprised. It had seemed to her last night that the word was meant for . . .intimacy. She was horrified to find herself actually a bit disappointed that he would make servants use it as well.

"I. . .thank you," said Anna. There was no reason not to be well-mannered. This woman wasn't responsible for her slave status. "Where am I?" Tharona smiled again and said,

"You are in the wives' quarters." Annalyssa's eyes widened. Wives. . .plural?

"W-what do you mean wives?" she demanded, emphasizing the last word. Tharona looked puzzled.

"I mean wives, women. . ." she struggled for the right word in the strange language. "Mates? Is that how you say it?"

Anna couldn't believe her ears. Bad enough to be taken against her will and made a plaything, but to find out that she was only one woman out of MANY! It infuriated her.

"I know THAT!" she hissed. "I mean how many wives does he have? Am I just the latest piece of a nice collection?" Her face was bright red with anger and her eyes were flashing. Tharona's eyes narrowed slightly against the other woman's anger and she said,

"No. You are his third. I am the first, and the second is called Nakree. She is serving the Master breakfast."

"Ugh!" said Annalyssa, turning away. "How dare he!" How dare he treat her like something special when she was just one more woman for his harem? Tears rose to her eyes again, mingled tears of sadness and anger. Last night had seemed so special, even if it was wrong. She had been such a fool. He probably took a virgin every other month. Anna put her head down and let the tears come, unable to fight them anymore. This was even worse than she had imagined. For a long moment, she stood there alone, and then she heard footsteps behind her and a pair of strong female arms slid around her.

"It's all right," whispered Tharona, holding her close. Anna wanted to scream at her to leave her alone, but the comforting touch was what she needed, and she turned into the other woman's arms, sobbing now. Tharona guided her over to the bed and they sat down together. She held Anna tight and let her cry herself out, crooning some song in the barbarian language that was soft and soothing. Eventually, Anna pulled away and wiped her face, still sniffling.

"I'm s-sorry," she hiccuped. "I shouldn't have shouted at you." It wasn't Tharona's fault that she had been reduced even further in status than she'd thought.

"It is all right," said the older woman, smiling at her a bit. "You are getting used to this still." She took some of the food and held it out to Anna. "Eat. It will help." The girl took the food and nibbled it, some kind of tender, mild meat and flaky, delicious biscuits. She ate more enthusiastically after the first bite and finished it all, suddenly ravenous. "You like it?" asked Tharona. "I cooked it." Anna nodded and tried a smile.

"Thank you," she said again, handing the empty tray back. Tharona nodded and stood, gently taking Anna's hand. "Now it is time for a bath. Come with me." A bath sounded heavenly, and Anna followed without protest. Tharona led her through the hall and into a room at the very end. There was no hide floor here. Instead, there was stone, and in the middle of it sat a hot spring that Anna knew well. They must have chosen this spot for the command building because of it. The sight of a familiar place made her feel much better, and she stripped her clothes off and slid into the pool with a sigh of happiness. Tharona did the same, and Anna could not help but be impressed at the sight of the other woman's body. She wished she looked like that. Tharona caught her look and smiled, giving her one in return.

"You are very beautiful," said the older woman. "The Master chose well." Anna blushed scarlet and looked down.

"Thank you," she mumbled. "You're beautiful too." Tharona smiled and moved closer to her, reaching to the edge of the pool and taking a wooden bowl of what had to be soap. She stood and rubbed the smooth, thick liquid over herself, foaming it up and filling the room with a strong, clean smell. It wasn't soft and flowery like the soaps Anna had used in the castle, but stern. It made her think of baths taken in mountain streams, where the cold was so intense you couldn't breath. Tharona pulled Anna up and rubbed the soap over her as well. Her hands were soft and gentle, and the girl closed her eyes, enjoying the touch. By the time she was covered and Tharona pulled her back into the water to rinse, she was so relaxed she could barely stand. The barbarian woman was warm, comforting, and motherly, exactly what she needed. She even bathed Anna like a child, leaning her back to wet her hair and then massaging soap into the brown curls. Her fingers on Anna's scalp made her shiver with delight. She wished her handmaidens in the castle had been like this. Tharona leaned her back to rinse her hair and then went to do her own. "I'll help," said Anna, wanting to return some of the kindness the other woman had given her. She gently rubbed the soap into the long blonde hair, marveling at it's softness and thickness.

As she rinsed Tharona's hair out, the flap door opened and a third person entered the hot springs. Anna knew immediately that this must be Nakree, the other wife. She was a barbarian as well, and looked somewhat like Tharona, with the lithely muscled body and firm, perfect figure. She was a bit shorter, however, and more Anna's type of feminine, a little softer than the blonde. Her hair was a fiery, shimmering red waterfall down her back, and she had vivid green eyes that sparkled even in the dim light of the room. They were almost as intense as the Master. . . the warlord's. Anna blushed at the mental slip. It was had to remember that he was a brute when Tharona talked of him with such obvious love in her voice. Maybe she had come to him by choice. Nakree was wearing only a robe, and she slid it off and came to the pool with a smile on her face, reaching her hand out to Anna. This time, she didn't hesitate, but took it and held it for a moment.

"Welcome," said Nakree in a rich, throaty voice that Anna was immediately envious of. Men would melt at hearing that voice. It was like a female version of the warlord's husky growl.

"Thank you," she replied. "Are you Nakree?" The redhead nodded happily.

"I am. Tharona has told you of me?" She looked at the blonde, who nodded. "Good." She smiled at her for a bit longer and then said, "So was last night your first time?"

Anna blushed and stared open-mouthed at Nakree, shocked that she would be so forward.

"Well. . . uh. . . of course! What kind of person do you think I am? I never had a man before him!" Nakree was taken aback by the force of her reaction and shot a questioning look at Tharona. The older woman held up a calming hand and pulled Anna into her arms again. She said something in the barbarian language to Nakree, and she nodded, her face smoothing out.

"I'm sorry. You are new, I won't question you." Anna sighed, embarrassed now. She had no right to take her anger, confusion, and shame out on these two kind women.

"No, I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just not used to this yet." Nakree nodded and focused on washing herself. When she was done, the three of them got out of the bath and dried each other with soft fur towels that had been left there for them. It was very soothing to feel the fur running over her skin, and Anna closed her eyes as the two of them tended to her. Perhaps being one wife of many wouldn't be so bad after all.