Castles Kings And Wondrous Things Ch 05

A warning to readers

: this chapter does contain non-consensual sex. Let me know if I've written it well.

*

Seth went first to his mother's apartment, knowing that even if she wasn't there, her maid would know her direction. After speaking to Grace's maid, he forced his emotions under control and slowly made his way through the palace to the council chamber. Knocking on the thick oak door that muffled all sound from within, he entered the chamber without waiting for an invitation. Ignoring the disgruntled looks on the faces of his father's councillors, he went to his mother's side and requested a private audience. For a long moment, she met his gaze before waving her hand and dismissing the other occupants of the room. After the last man had filed out, Seth closed the door before returning to his Grace's side and dropping to his knees. "Mama, I have ill news," he told her, taking her hands in his own.

Her whitened hair fell forward as she bent her head to his and ordered, "Speak, my darling, tell me what has happened."

"Tamara has been abducted, Mama," he stated baldly. He hid a wince when her nails dug in as she gripped his hands hard. He waited silently for her to recover her composure before he continued. "She was taken from the jasmine arbour. Zane witnessed her abduction but did not see the person who took her." He paused again before adding, "I drugged him, Mama; he was devastated." He watched her face closely and saw genuine distress on behalf of her eldest son. When he entered the room to find her seated with his father's councillors, he had briefly wondered about her loyalties but her reaction now reassured him.

Grace closed her eyes and asked, "Have you started up a search party yet?"

"Not as yet, Mama," he replied, shaking his head. "Narelle was going to send the pegasus knight, Maegan for her father. I was going to wait to speak to her before I went any further."

His mother's eyes snapped open and she demanded, "Why wait? Surely the trail is going cold even now."

Narelle followed Seth's trail, first to his brother's apartments, then to his mother's. Following Grace's maid's directions, she hurried to the council chamber, ignoring the greetings of those she passed along the way. Shoving open the door, she entered the chamber in time to hear his mother ask about the trail aging. Before Seth could speak, Narelle stated flatly, "I trust no one in this place. I don't want anyone involved in the search for my sister unless I verify their integrity first."

"As you wish, my lady," murmured Seth turning on his knees to give her a brief bow.

She glared at Grace until the older woman said, "If you think it best, my dear." Narelle waited patiently and after a moment, Seth's mother asked, "Why don't you trust those here?"

"Surely you know of the rumours that fly around the court," exclaimed Seth, saving Narelle the effort of keeping a civil tongue in her head. She watched the dowager queen steadily and saw the older woman shift in her chair.

After another moment of silence, Grace conceded, "I know of the rumours. Do you truly believe that those behind the rumours would go so far?" Her expression held a silent plea and Narelle felt guilty for having to deny that entreaty.

"I believe that even if those who started the rumours are not directly responsible, it is still their fault," she told Seth's mother. "After all, if they hadn't spread such ridiculous lies, there would be no motive for my sister's abduction." She waited patiently once again until Grace nodded her acknowledgment of Narelle's words. Narelle curtsied to the dowager before turning to Seth and waving her hand. "Come with me, please, I want to see if I can find anyone I trust to help us," she told him. He nodded and they left the chamber together after bidding his mother farewell.

Carrying the bitch into the cave, he grinned to himself as he thought of the way she would suffer as he had suffered. Dumping her limp body on the ground, he pulled a knife from his boot and cut away her outer gown. Building a fire at the mouth of the cave, he burned the heavy material until it was ash. After extinguishing the fire, he turned back to her comatose form and smiled once more. He would return to the palace, leaving her just as she was -- with no provisions and wearing nothing but her shift. He would have his revenge on her while enjoying the comforts she had banished him from.

The small group of mercenaries had been travelling for nearly two weeks. They had left the last border town of Tusley four days previously and were looking forwards to arriving at the palace of the king of Midland. The six warriors had run into some trouble with the law-keepers of Tusley's capital city and had left in the middle of the night. They were hoping to apply for any available positions in the palace's guard. As they followed the trade route through the forest, they ranged off the cleared road, hunting to fill the evening's pot. Whenever they passed close to one another, they celebrated their lucky escape by sharing several wineskins of potent mead. The oldest of the six had been keeping half an eye on the sun as they travelled and when it dipped close to the horizon, he rounded everyone up and began to search for a place to spend the night. Just before the sun slipped below the horizon, the group followed a stream up a rise and came across a cave. In the mouth of the cave, the remains of a fire smouldered and inside the cave they found a pleasant surprise.

As she lay there half asleep, Tamara felt the brush of callused fingers over the tender skin on the underside of her breast. The contact tickled but still felt too distant to rouse her completely. The fingers brushed up over her nipples and she felt them slowly tighten under the repetitive contact. Still unable to open her eyes, she became absently concerned when she felt the brush of more fingers against her ankles. The fingers gripped and she felt the backs of her legs scrape against a rough surface as they were spread wide. She opened her mouth to mumble a protest but no sound emerged. Instead, the movement of her tongue made her realise indistinctly that she could taste sweet mint and bitter lemon. In a vague sort of fashion, she remembered that there was something wrong with those tastes being mixed together. Before she could focus enough to puzzle it out, she felt pressure against her lips and unconsciously opened them in response. A warm, soft thing entered her mouth and when she rubbed her tongue against it she tasted salt. Her foggy mind suggested that the taste was enjoyable and she continued to run her tongue over and around the plum-shaped thing. She heard an indistinct sound and then felt the fingers against her nipples grip them abruptly. The sharp pain did nothing to clear her mind but made her involuntarily suck in a breath. The hands at her ankles began to slide up her legs, even as more fingers closed around her wrists. The brush of the three sets of hands, their touch felt through the veil clouding her mind, began to build a sensual heat in her body that made her hum with pleasure.

The leader of the six mercenaries grunted in pleasure when the woman's hum sent vibrations through his cock-head. He pinched her nipples harder and twisted them roughly. She was obviously a whore -- no decent woman would be out in public in such indecent clothing as the shift they had stripped from her unconscious body. Just as obviously, she enjoyed her work -- he'd never been with any other wench who reacted so enthusiastically in her sleep. He kept just his head in her mouth for another half a minute before deciding to warm the rest of him. With another grunt, he thrust forward until his cock-head touched the back of her throat. He heard her gurgle in protest but he just kept pushing. She was a obviously a pro and every pro he'd been with could deep-throat. While he continued to shove against her tight throat, he watched as four of the others held her spread wide for the fifth member of their group. See the man run his hand up and down his shaft, he growled a warning, "Now don't damage this one before the rest of us can use her Arch."

"Sure thing, Brant, Sir," replied the man with a grin. With a few more tugs on his cock, he knelt between the woman's legs and rubbed his cock-head against her slit. Although she seemed to be dry at first, as Brant watched and stuffed her mouth, he saw moisture begin to gleam on Arch's bulb.

Stilling his movements for a moment, the leader ordered, "Take her. We'll give the whore what she needs and get what we need as well." With another grin, the other mercenary lined himself up and then slammed home. The impact shuddered up the woman's body and her mouth tightened around the leader's cock again. Brant waited patiently until Arch settled into a rhythm and then began to pound away at the whore's face. It was past time he got his own satisfaction.

Seth spent the rest of the day following Narelle around the court as she seemed to aimlessly approach random members of the court. It was only when they entered the dining hall that evening for supper that he realised her movements had not been as random as they appeared. Before he could lead the way to the head table where his mother was seated in solitary splendour, his companion pulled him towards the right side of the hall. Seated along a short table beside the wall were all the people Narelle had spoken to during their walk through the court. Glancing down at the expression on her face, which was a study in thoughtfulness, the prince realised that these were the people that Narelle trusted the most in his brother's court. Some of the faces were no surprise -- Sir Deverill Lance, the commander of the palace guard and a man who was well-known for his contempt of the late king's advisors, was seated beside Lady Morag Hughenden, the court sorceress. Some of the faces inspired much less confidence -- Lady Flora may have been Narelle's friend but she had never been discreet. As he looked around the table again, Seth was also surprised at what he remembered about everyone seated. He had thought that his journeys and the experiences he had suffered through would blur his memories of the court -- especially given that he hadn't truly been active in the court given his age before his exile. Putting his reminiscences aside for the moment, he handed Narelle into one of the chairs at the head of the table and took the other. Throughout the meal, he watched as she led the conversation along several different lines, seeming to jump from one unrelated topic to another. Just before the dessert was due to be served, he interrupted the conversation and drew her to her feet. "We shall return momentarily, I just wish to speak to my mother," he informed the others seated at the table. As he pulled her away from the table, he added grimly to Narelle, "That's partly the truth, but I have a few things I want to ask you."

Slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow, she murmured, "Can I answer them later?" Pulling up short, the prince frowned at her.

"No," he replied tersely. Without another word, he led her to the head table and asked Grace about his brother. After being reassured on that front, he drew the princess into a corner and demanded, "What's the point of all this?"

Glancing at the table he gestured to, she replied, "It's a...test...of their true...suitability for the search."

As Narelle ran her gaze over the twelve courtiers seated at the table Seth pointed to, she reconsidered her plans. The truth was, when it came to her sister's disappearance she trusted no one in this place bar the man at her side. Tightening her hold on the crook of his arm, she stepped into his side, relishing the warmth of his large body and the strength coiled in his muscles. Quietly, she added, "I would trust these people to look for me if I ever disappeared or lost my way."

"But you're not sure if they hold the same prejudice against your sister as the majority of the court," he suggested when she fell silent. Nibbling her lower lip she nodded. She jumped when he raised his free hand and used his thumb to gently ease that lip from between her teeth. His touch sent tingles running down her spine and for a moment she stared up at him, distracted by what lay in the air between them. Before she could say anything, he asked, "So, which of these people do you consider suitable for the search? I don't know them well enough now to give you any opinion."

Stroking his arm in an attempt to reassure him, Narelle replied, "It all depends on one thing." She looked at the courtiers again and frowned in irritation. From their discussion over the meal so far, she had decided that only four of the twelve sitting there could be trusted to do the best to find Tamara for her and her sister's sakes. Most of the rest of them were completely unsuitable, holding the views that had been spread throughout the court by the late king's advisors. But three of those remaining were absolutely loyal to their prince. What she had to figure out was whether or not their loyalty would drive them to greater efforts to find Tamara or not.

"I can see them looking our way, we should return," stated Seth, pulling her forward with him. She nodded and, once they were seated, drew the three unknowns into conversation.

Underneath the warm and salty flavour in her mouth, Tamara again tasted sweet mint and bitter lemon. Although her mind still felt muffled, her concern over those flavours grew and she fought her way through dulled memories until she reached the answer. On the border between her father's kingdom and her prince's kingdom there grew a type of herb called murk-leaf by the botanists and herbalists. Most people knew it by the name of shadow, so-called because when someone was fed the herb their mind became shadowed and they lost all sense of the world around them. Anger began to stir in the depths of her psyche but the influence of the herb held it chained and allowed it to rise no further. Alongside the anger, heat grew. Distracted by the heat, she slowly realised that it was caused by something outside of her dulled mind. Struggling to gather her thoughts, she tried to concentrate on the world around her but was flooded with another wave of heat. Something was scratching over her back, sending shivers of pleasure racing along her spine. The pleasure disappeared into pain as a line of fire burst across her buttocks. The fire bloomed again and again until the pain overwhelmed everything else and she lost awareness once more.

Walking away from the Queen's apartments, he began to shake. The prince truly cared for the bitch. So much so in fact, that he had to be drugged to keep him from hurting himself. He wanted the bitch to suffer as he had suffered but he cared for the prince too much to continue punishing them both. He quickly made his way to the stables and tacked up the fastest mount. Riding like the wind through the early night, he returned to the cave. What he found there was beyond even his expectations. Moving closer, trying to determine if there was any way he could fix the damage he had caused, he placed his feet carelessly and the sound of a snapping stick split the air. Before he could escape, he was attacked, tied up and dumped by the fire.