The little girl clung to him. Quivering uncontrollably against his thigh her arms were wrapped around. The man in front of them obviously terrified her more than he did. Vaguely, Vardene wondered why.
"Don't be scared, little Catlyn, no-one's going to hurt you."
The men around him guffawed. Vardene glared at them.
"I, I… I don't want to…"
"What? You don't want to? Did you hear that, men? Little Catlyn doesn't want to come and play," the singsong voice of the grimy man before them taunted. "That's a bit of a problem then, wouldn't you say?"
Catlyn just stared dumbly at the man making his way forward.
"Because we never said you got a choice."
More laughter. The girl's arms tightened convulsively. The man who had purchased them came forward.
"Don't look to him, little one, he gets a piece of you too if he's lucky."
He felt the heightened fear coming off the child who held him as a barrier against the world. He realised she had considered who posed more of a danger and determined him to be the lesser threat. The girl should never have had to make that choice.
Vardene growled. The man's eyes finally became wary. Pain flared through the Ring. He gritted his teeth, holding his upright position, and called in his Sapphire Jewel. He knew more than outranked these bastards.
But they had the Ring. And were more than willing to use it against him.
He let a burst from his Jewel out in a semi-circle before him, careful to include all those in front of him. Shields shot up, but quickly flickered out against the strength of his darker Jewel. Men fell to their knees, some using their lighter Jewels against him; his new master, though lying awkwardly, still managing to command more pain into the Ring of Obedience.
White hot. Searing. Soul stealing.
He staggered back. Shot out another blast of power. Grabbed the girl beside him, turned his back and tried to run.
It was stupid to turn from his enemy, but he could not think clearly, not with the intense pain searing into his groin. He ran, stumbled, and ran again before the pain brought him screaming to his knees.
Dimly he was aware of people in front of him. Dimly did he note the shield they put up when he tried to blast them into oblivion. Faintly did he hear Catlyn's muted sobs. And then everything went black.
***
The first thing Vardene noticed when he woke was that there was no pain.
There should have been pain. Even before the lashing there had been pain, his body having suffered for so long.
Sitting up slowly he looked around. It was a fairly plain looking room, but comfortable. It had a homey feel. Whatever that was, he thought harshly, not allowing himself to yearn for something he could never have.
This was probably just another cruel game. Sweet Darkness, but he didn't know how much more he could take.
Footsteps. His anger rising, he looked around for a weapon. This time he would make sure he won, or more likely, went down trying. Either way it was an escape. Grabbing the fire poker, he settled into battle stance.
The door swung open.
"Hell's fire!" The woman barely dodged the first blow and had no chance when his fist came forcefully towards her. Impact. She crashed to the floor.
He started to advance on her but soon found himself slammed hard against the wall. It never took long for the bitches to show their colours. Whether it was sex they wielded as a weapon, or violence, they all had it in them.
Held there by the invisible force of the woman's Jewel, Vardene watched as she got shakily to her feet, rubbing just below her shoulder where his fist had caught her. She groaned softly. A cruel smile tugged at his lips. Vardene, one; slut, nil.
Her gaze met his. His so cold and filled with loathing, hers so strangely devoid of anger, but instead containing something he could not place. Her gaze quickly flicked to annoyance, however, when a thunder of footsteps came swiftly down the hall.
He watched her straighten and turn towards the intruder whose large form now filled the doorway.
"Mother Night, Charlie! I warned you! Stay away from the bastard, he's not stable!" Vardene's grim smile became strained as the Warlord's Jewel strength was added to the woman's to hold him, forcing him harder against a surface that held no mercy.
"What was that noise, Charlie? Did he hurt you?" The man stepped towards the glowering woman before him.
"Valen. Do. I. Look. Hurt?"
"He's wielding a bloody poker, woman! Did. He. Hurt. You?!"
"No! Who's the one held, Warlord?! Yes, he came at me—" the one named Valen growled, "—but he did not reach me. Do you blame him, Valen? Mother Night but we can only guess at what he went through. You saw his wounds… do you blame his attack?"
"Yes!"
The woman sighed.
"Leave me now, Valen, I need to see to him."
A feral growl rose out of his throat, betraying a hint of fear before he could rein it in. Her denial of his hurt towards her could mean only one thing. She had plans for him. If his invisible bonds had allowed for any movement they would have held him trembling. He was so close to the edge. So close to losing himself. He could not take any more pain. He would rather die.
At his snarl, the Warlord's gaze had swung to him.
"I don't think so, Charlie. I'll be staying. And the bonds stay too."
Vardene glared at them both, eyes feral. He had expected no less. So when she started arguing that she needed them gone to examine him it took him completely by surprise.
Until he remembered the Ring of Obedience. Yes, that little slut was just itching to use it against him.
He had used his physical strength against her, used to the fact that using his Jewel meant more pain through the Ring of Obedience. But looking down on his naked body, he realised he wore no Ring. The customary tightness always present, always reminding him of his servitude, was gone. So when the Warlord relented and allowed his bonds to vanish along with hers, he did not fight against them with all he had, but instead slumped heavily against the wall behind him, confused and distressed. He felt apart from all that was happening around him, like an inhabitant in someone else's body, his concentration wavering from what it should have focussed on and rebelled against. He was empty, slipping ever closer to breaking point, and into the Twisted Kingdom.
***
Charlie looked warily at the Warlord Prince in front of her as she gently examined him. Violently passionate and passionately violent. And this one unstable. She would be lying if she said he didn't frighten her. She hoped Queen Lia's decision to bring him to the safety of Dena Nehele was not going to be one she would later regret. Her Consort and husband, Jared, was certainly opposed to his being here. She didn't know whom she stood with.
As a Healer she wanted to help him, but she knew the realities of what happened to those serving in Hyall, and he, being a pleasure slave, was even more at risk of losing himself amidst the turmoil he had faced in servitude.
Head tilted, she examined him again, this time not as a Healer, but as a woman. He was good looking. His sun-kissed skin marking him of Shalador descent, which his dark hair and eyes confirmed. He was well built, but his posture was now one of defeat, not of the arrogant strength and tightly reined violence so common in his caste. Oh, the violence was there, but it was not the same as that of other Warlord Princes. It was different, even more unpredictable. Darker, volatile, savage.
Not minutes ago he had been angry and ready to fight with everything in him, but now he was utterly motionless as she carefully scrutinized him, he was utterly beaten. Something had shifted inside him; something had made him think worse of a situation he should feel more secure in. But what?
Perhaps the girl who had been with him, Catlyn, would know. She had been hard to separate from his side, and now kept pestering her to resume that position. But she could not in all conscience let a child sit by a man who could turn and kill her, and with the greeting she had received upon coming into the room she had not been wrong to keep the two apart.
She did not know why she had covered for the man in front of her, but as a Healer she had a lot of misplaced courage. Or so Valen told her. All she knew was that the man before her was someone who needed help, needed healing. And no matter what it cost her, she would see it done.
Charlie smiled. I guess I agree with Lia.