Dawning Ceremony (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 3) Page 7

  Taylor shrugged.

  “I only know what I’ve been told,” she said. “And I wonder… Are you curious about what women from the realm are like, Halrin? You could find out…”

  He moved in closer to her, feeling his impulses beginning to cloud his logic and reasoning. They would probably be punished if they didn’t at least make an attempt at mating. And she did seem willing enough, even if it was only a result of their circumstances.

  Taylor reached out to run her hand over his bulge as he came within reach of her. She was smiling, but there was an almost bored, casualness to her movements that rubbed Hal the wrong way. She undid his belt tie and pulled his pants down, one of her eyebrows raising up as his naked erection popped into view.

  She wants to see what a surface man is like? So be it!

  Hal pushed her back onto the bed and pulled her thighs apart, which elicited a tiny, pleased squeal from Taylor. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, noticing the appreciative glance she gave his muscled body.

  Her breasts were what drew his attention first, and Hal spent a couple of seconds groping them in his palms, enjoying the contrast between their softness and her hard nipples. He pushed forward, letting his shaft prod into her crotch, feeling her fine pubic hairs like silk strands against his sensitive member.

  He felt his heart pumping in his chest and realized, somewhat surprisingly, that he was enjoying himself. It didn’t matter to his body whether or not he’d chosen the situation for himself. She was an attractive, naked woman, and he was in bed with her.

  Taylor let out a low moan as Hal eased the tip of his shaft into her, savoring the hot, wet, rewarding sensation of the act. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, feeling her hesitating before moving her mouth along with his.

  “We… don’t have to kiss,” whispered Taylor.

  “That’s how we surface beasts do it,” said Hal. He kissed her again, thrusting forward at the same time. Taylor gasped and gripped the mattress with her fingers.

  Hal took her as though it was a deliberate conquest, his hands massaging her breasts and body as his shaft plunged into her faster and faster. The pleasure was a massive contrast to the events of the past day, and he appreciated it for what it was.

  Taylor wrapped her legs around him, but did little else to stay active. She had a surprised look on her face, and let her hands run across Hal’s chest and shoulders. He leaned in close and kissed her again, this time keeping his face in close to hers after and watching the tiny twitches in her expression of his shaft pounded into her.

  “Oh!” moaned Taylor. “Halrin! You’re… wild!”

  Hal kissed her neck, leaned her slightly to the side, and on a whim, slapped his hand moderately hard against one of her buttocks. Taylor let out a squeal that was equal parts pleasure and pain. Hal took a firm hold of her butt and thrust into her as deep as he would go, feeling his arousal building a hot, urgent momentum.

  It was easy to get lost in the rhythm of sex. Taylor’s breasts jiggled hypnotically in front of his eyes. He kissed both of them, and then her lips again, enjoying her little reactions. Her skin was pale and soft, and it gave off a sense of unspoiled purity, which made what he was doing feel even more illicit.

  Hal tried to keep from thinking about how they’d both been forced into the act, but a pointless, target-less anger still burned in his chest. He gave one of Taylor’s breasts a hard squeeze and pumped into her faster.

  Is this truly my life now? To be bred with a woman, against my will, like an animal?

  He thrust into her with more of his strength. Taylor was moaning in pleasure, her fingers digging into his back. If they wanted him to be a beast, a wild surfacer, then maybe that’s what he’d be. He seized Taylor by the legs and began pulling her up into him with each of his motions, pumping down hard.

  “Halrin!” cried Taylor. “Oh, my!”

  He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, hating how much he was enjoying himself. Was this what they’d planned? To seduce him into his new, indentured life in a literal sense of the word?

  Both of their bodies were sweaty. Hal let his rhythm build, pinning Taylor down against the bed as he thrust harder and faster. He felt her tensing underneath him, her hands squeezing his shoulders tightly as she came. He thrust even faster, and then felt himself passing beyond his own point of release.

  Hal pulled out as he blew his load, letting it splash onto Taylor’s crotch and stomach. It was his first foolish act of rebellion, but it wouldn’t be his last. He smiled when he saw the expression on her face, a mixture of disbelief, embarrassment, and annoyance.

  “Halrin,” she said, sternly. “You’ve just wasted a great deal of both of our time.”

  “Have I?” he asked.

  “Lady Katara might punish us for this!” said Taylor.

  “Only if you tell her the intimate details,” said Hal.

  “She’ll probably make you do this over again,” said Taylor.

  Hal chuckled.

  “Oh no,” he said. “How will I ever manage to bear something like that?”

  CHAPTER 13

  Willum arrived a short while later, frowning as he entered the room.

  “Are the two of you finished?” he asked.

  Taylor scowled at Hal and said nothing.

  “The deed is done,” said Hal. “Right Taylor?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. If Willum picked up on the tension between them, he didn’t seem to think anything of it. He led Hal back out into the hallway, closing the door behind them.

  “I hope you know that Lady Katara has done you a great honor by letting you breed so soon,” said Willum. “You should take it as a sign that she wishes you to feel comfortable here.”

  Hal nodded slowly, observing Willum out of the corner of his eye. He looked a little like Laurel, with a similar nose and eyes of the same color blue.

  “And do you feel comfortable here, Willum?” asked Hal. “I have to assume that you do, for you to not have attempted to get back to the surface. Back to Laurel, I mean.”

  Willum stiffened. He glanced down the hallway behind him, and then seized Hal by the shoulders and pushed him roughly against the wall.

  “Don’t speak my sister’s name,” said Willum. “I don’t know who you think you are, or how you entered her life, but don’t ever speak her name up here.”

  “Get your hands off me.” Hal pushed him back, glaring at him. “Are you going to explain to me how you ended up as a slave? Or what’s keeping you here?”

  “You have no right to those answers,” said Willum.

  “But your sister does!” hissed Hal. “And I, for one, fully intend to return to the surface and see her again.”

  Willum’s expression was dark and serious. He slowly shook his head, and then pointed a finger at Hal.

  “You ask me why I’m still here,” said Willum. “Presumably, you think that I could escape if I wanted to?”

  Hal slowly nodded his head. He took Lady Katara’s words about how difficult it would be to escape the Upper Realm seriously, but still knew in his heart that it wasn’t, that it couldn’t be impossible. Not for someone motivated enough. There had to be a way back to the surface, and even if it involved stealing a dragon or hitching a ride in a storage sack, it seemed like a worthwhile risk to take to escape a life of slavery.

  “You’ve seen what it’s like in Zelnata, the capital city, haven’t you?” asked Willum. “Do you understand how many humans are kept enslaved in the Upper Realm against their will? How much suffering is taking place here?”

  “So you’re still here because you want to help people?” asked Hal. “What can you do against the elves in their homeland? It seems to me like they have all the control here.”

  “It isn’t just elves,” said Willum. “There are some humans with power. Great House Ardstone still exists, Hal. They’ve formed an alliance with the Empress, but some of them remain sympathetic to the plight of the human slaves in the realm.”

/>   Hal bristled at the mention of the Ardstones, remembering what he’d learned during his fight with the necromancer in the catacombs near Meldence.

  One of the Ardstones killed my family. I wouldn’t place more trust in them then I could float on a boat made of leaves.

  He kept his opinion to himself, knowing that it would only create friction between himself and Willum. Instead, Hal slowly nodded his head, conceding the point for the sake of continuing the conversation.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “So you’ve stayed to help people. That’s very admirable of you, Willum. But things aren’t perfect on the surface, either. Your sister could be in danger.”

  “And why do you care?” asked Willum, his voice taking on a decidedly bitter tone. “Laurel is not your responsibility.”

  Hal glared at him. This wasn’t how he’d expected the conversation to go.

  “Apparently, she is,” said Hal. “Because it doesn’t seem like you give a damn about her, and she deserves better than being on her own.”

  The punch came faster than Hal’s eyes could track it. It slammed into his stomach hard enough to force all of the wind out of his lungs. He coughed and shifted his stance, lifting his guard. Willum was pulling his fist back for a second blow, and leaving himself open in the process.

  Hal spun forward, feinting with his fist before striking with his elbow, which caught a solid blow on Willum’s cheek. Willum bounced off the hive’s hallway and staggered to get back into a fighting stance. They were both about to attack again when footsteps came from the hallway behind them.

  “Later,” said Willum. “…Come on.”

  A very tense, completely silent walk back to the slave rooms followed. Willum opened the door, and Hal stepped back into the same tiny cell he’d been in before. Vrodas had arrived back ahead of him, and was sitting on one of the cots.

  Hal expected Willum to throw out a few parting words, but the Head Slave said nothing as he closed the door. He sighed, and took a seat across from Vrodas. The maug’s gaze was downcast, and he was taking slow, audible breaths.

  “Hey,” said Hal. “Are you alright?”

  Vrodas took a shaky breath.

  “No,” he said. “Not really. They had me… paired. With a young maug girl. She was… too young.”

  “Oh,” said Hal. “Oh! Vrodas… I’m sorry.”

  He winced, imagining how much harder it would have been to go through his own forced match if that had been the case for him. And that wasn’t the only factor for Vrodas, either. Hal had never pried deep into his friend’s personal life, but the maug had been very close to another man when they’d first met.

  “I can’t…” muttered Vrodas. “If they make me do that again, Hal, I will kill them. Even if it means dying myself.”

  “Don’t say that,” said Hal. “We have to stay strong.”

  “Why?” asked Vrodas. “What’s the point? They have us.”

  “For now,” said Hal. “But we won’t be here forever. Mark my words.”

  Vrodas shook his head. He finally looked up and met Hal’s gaze. There was so much in Vrodas’s expression, more than just what they’d suffered over the past few days. The maug had lived a hard life, and Hal hadn’t taken enough time before to properly notice.

  “I appreciate your confidence,” whispered Vrodas. “But I wonder where it comes from…”

  Hal hesitated at the question. It was a good one, and he had to think about it for a second.

  It doesn’t matter what’s happening to us up here. Laurel is down on the surface, alone, possibly besieged by husks, or maybe even those elves, if they’ve returned.

  “We have lives to get back to, Vrodas,” said Hal. “Just keep that in mind.”

  CHAPTER 14

  They hadn’t been in their cell for more than an hour when the sounds of activity began to pick up on the other side. The door opened, and one of the elf guards muttered in elvish that it was time for dinner. Hal nodded to Vrodas, and they both headed out into the slave hall.

  Under different circumstances, Hal would have found the setup of dinner to be an adequate, even comfortable experience. There was a single cauldron of stew in the center of the room, with tables scattered around it. A dozen or so other slaves were also ambling out of their cells, most of them forming into groups of two or three.

  All of the other slaves that he could see were men, which made Hal think that there was probably another slave hall for the women in another part of the hive. Given how orchestrated his match with Taylor had been, it made sense.

  There were no elven slaves. Hal wasn’t sure whether that mattered to him or not. The institution of slavery was, in itself, a horrific thing, but an irrational part of him felt as though if he’d seen elves enslaved, too, it would have at least been fair.

  It’s just based on… what? The fact that humans and maugs are larger physically? Some strange concept of racial purity?

  He was still musing about it as he brought his bowl up to the cauldron. There were no guards in the actual slave hall, and he ladled his portion out himself, not taking too much out of respect for the situation and his newness to it.

  He sat down with Vrodas, shivering slightly as the cold chill of the night sky blew directly in through the open windows along the far side of the hall. The soup was warm, if a little thin. He ate it slowly, savoring the earthy taste.

  An older slave walked over to where Hal and Vrodas sitting. Hal tensed up until the man gave a friendly wave and leaned his face in closer.

  “Either of you play?” he asked. “Music, I mean.”

  “Uh…” Hal glanced at Vrodas, who shook his head. “No.”

  “Well, we usually do some singin’ with our drummin’, so you can join in for that at least, if you feel like it,” said the old man.

  Hal was about to refuse him, when a thought came to mind.

  “We can dance,” he said. “Both of us can. We put on quite the show.”

  The old man laughed and clapped Hal on the shoulder. Hal grinned at him, and then over at Vrodas, who seemed less enthused.

  “Why did you volunteer us for that?” asked Vrodas, as the old man walked back to his group.

  “Because it’s something to do,” said Hal. “And besides, it’s a favor to the people here. Music is great on its own, but there is something truly magical about pairing it with dancing.”

  He thought back to his last night on his family’s estate, and how Mauve had used a similar argument to get him dancing to Roth’s drums. The memory was dangerous, like a broken piece of glass with sharp edges, and Hal had to take care to keep it from cutting him.

  They finished eating after another minute, and the other slaves almost immediately began their song. Three or four of them drummed, using their empty bowls, the stone of the walls and floor, and their wooden spoons to make a variety of different sounds.

  Another group began singing in a harmony that sounded like it had been practiced for months, if not years. The song was a ditty about a man searching for a woman, finding her and losing her again. It looped back around onto itself, getting higher in pitch each time until it was impossible for any of them to hit the notes, and they were forced to drop it back down.

  Hal stood up from his seat and clapped Vrodas on the shoulder. The maug was sulky and hesitant.

  “Come on,” said Hal. “I’ll go first.”

  It felt amazing to move through the basic, standing flows of the Kye Lornis, even if it was on a dirty, unforgiving, stone floor. As always, the dance felt comforting and familiar, like walking down an old path with all the tree stumps and bumps in the road long since memorized.

  It made him think of his little sister, Lilith, and how she’d sit and watch while he and Mauve would practice. Hal stepped up his dancing a notch as the memories flooded in, each one making the slave song in the background sound that much more forlorn.

  Vrodas did join in, and seemed to find much of the same catharsis in the Kye Lornis that Hal had. The two of them didn’
t hold back, pushing their intricate spins, hand poses, and flips to the limit of what they could do. It was something they still had control over, something that rewarded them for their effort in a natural way.

  Hal’s shoulder ached from his wounds, but the pain was lost in the hum of satisfaction through the rest of his body. He kept coming back to his last day in his family’s estate in his head.

  He realized, for the first time, that it was becoming a memory he treasured, even if it ended in brutal tragedy. The memory of dancing, of Lilith chastising him, even of watching his father from across the room, it was all a treasure to him. It was all he had left of them, especially now that the heartgem, Lilith’s final gift, had been taken.

  All of the slaves in the room were, in some way, taking part in the merriment. Which made the sudden entrance of a group of spear wielding guards all the more dramatic. The singing, drumming, and dancing came to an instant halt.

  “Grendus!” shouted one of the guards. “We’ve warned you about this before!”

  The old man who’d recruited Hal and Vrodas into the fun cowered as the guard advanced on him. The elf slammed the butt of his spear into the man’s stomach, and then struck him hard across the face.

  Hal was moving before he had time to think. He punched the guard in the jaw, which did more than he’d expected it to, given his weight advantage over the elf. He attempted to strip the spear out of the guard’s hands, but he held it tight even as he crumpled to the floor.

  Another guard lunged at Hal, jabbing the metal tip of his spear at his chest. Hal was already warmed up from dancing the Kye Lornis, and dodged the attack effortlessly, grabbing the spear and forcing its end back into the guard’s face.

  A blow struck him on the back of the calf from behind. Hal twisted, trying to defend himself, but he was outnumbered, and another elf punched him in the face. He caught sight of Vrodas, standing with the other slaves, and let a plea go out in that brief moment of eye contact. Vrodas didn’t move, his expression tired and already defeated.