Dust stuck to Alana's sweat soaked skin making her feel grimy. She was curled up on Kalen's lap, her blotchy face seeking out the coolness of his armour. The men who were seated on the uncovered wagon with them had reacted to her presence in one of three ways: several of the men had ignored her completely, refusing to even look at Alana, or her master; a few of the men had exchanged polite chatter with the two, then became engaged in conversation elsewhere; the majority, though, were hostile, insulting Kalen, jostling him, and staring at him with cold, resentful eyes.
They had been travelling for hours in a long convoy that stretched as far as the eyes could see in both directions. The procession had passed through cities that were wondrous to Alana's eyes, through villages of warriors like the one she had come from, and through villages of ordinary people. Everywhere had greeted the warriors with cheers, and everywhere there had been people staring at Alana and Kalen. Now, they were miles from the nearest town, and the landscape had changed dramatically from lush green with exotic colours, to browns and rusty reds. In Alana's opinion it certainly looked inhospitable.
As the wagons started to struggle on the terrain, Alana realised that they were stopping. A field of tents disappeared into the horizon, the fabric of them rippling in the hot, gritty wind. Everywhere clangs and clatters rang out to fill the air with a cacophony of unnatural, unwelcoming sounds. The men in Alana's wagon started to climb out, and she did the same. Kalen stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder to reassure her as thousands of men weaved through each other to find their destination. She felt overwhelmed and tiny; everything around her seemed so large, rugged and violent.
"A whore for the men, how thoughtful." Before Alana could figure out who had spoken, Kalen had his hand on his sword and had taken a defensive position before her. Alana could feel the tension radiating from him which, in turn, made her heart thunder in her chest.
"She is my lover, and will not be touched," Kalen snapped at a man who had appeared before them. He sneered at them both with a look of dislike so intense that Alana felt worthless. It was obvious how he viewed her, and he seemed to be in charge.
"She is your slave." The man circled Alana as Kalen rose, still wary. The man ran his fingers through Alana's tangled, sweaty hair, pulling gently. "You could share her with a few of us. She is quite lovely, and we could help to keep her safe." The man's tone was wistful, his voice threaded with longing, and some other soft emotion." Kalen shook his head. "Her death will be on your hands. Slaves are not permitted here, and though I doubt the other generals will do anything, it will only be a matter of time before the other men do. She is so fragile, so breakable. One rough fuck and she would snap."
Alana huddled closer to Kalen. The man was staring at her as he spoke. The longing in his voice seemed to intensify as he talked about her fragility. The heavy weight of Kalen's arm settled over her shoulders and drew her towards him.
"Where will we be quartered?" Kalen's tone was all business, much to the dissatisfaction of the soldier before them. The man gave some directions, and Kalen thanked him, before taking Alana's hand and heading in the direction that he had been pointed in.
"Alana," his tone was hushed and serious, "he is named General T'arik. If you ever have to run, run to him." Alana shuddered. If that man was the only other protection she had here, she was doomed. She agreed though, and tried not to let Kalen see her worry.
When they arrived at their tent, Alana was surprised to see it was considerably larger than those surrounding it. Kalen could easily stand in it, and it was well furnished. It seemed quite luxurious considering it bordered a battlefield. Kalen seemed pleased with Alana's fascination, and took the time to explain why he was awarded such honour.
"I am in charge of a large group of men, many hundreds. Although I am not a general, I could be. I am a skilled warrior, and have slaughtered many more of the enemy than any other man. Part of my reward was you." He wrapped his arms around Alana, and steered her tired body to the bed. "Rest whilst I prepare dinner." His lips brushed hers in a tender gesture of affection before he left the tent. It wasn't long until the delicious aromas of food wafted in on the breeze. Alana hadn't realised how hungry she had become on the journey, and was glad to see Kalen when he entered with a bowl of what turned out to be a spicy stew.
"This is really good," Alana enthused between mouthfuls. There was no mistaking the glow of pride on Kalen's face from the complement, and Alana promised herself that she would praise him more often. Alana and Kalen sat on a fur rug on the floor. Alana couldn't help but think that under different circumstances it would be a great place for slow, sensuous sex.
"You like the tent?" Kalen's voice seemed a little concerned. Alana nodded in response, her mouth too full to speak. "That is good. You will not be able to spend time outside without me, and I shall be gone most of the day. I promise to escort you early in the morning, and late at night, but that is all that we may risk."
Alana was horrified. She had enjoyed sitting in the sun at Kalen's home, and after three months with Mia, she had also come to enjoy the freedom of being able to come and go as she pleased. If it was that dangerous for her to be there, surely a tent would not be much of a deterrent. Alana touched the metal band around her neck; surely that should be enough to mark her as another man's property.
"What if I need to...?" Alana couldn't bring herself to finish the question, her cheeks heated and her eyes glued themselves to the floor.
"You look lovely when you blush like that." Kalen touched under her chin, encouraging Alana to look at him. The look in his eyes made Alana's insides feel like molten metal. "If you need to relieve yourself there is a pot under the bed. It is not pleasant in the heat, but is better than being at the mercy of some of the men here." Alana nodded her agreement, but was not convinced. She knew that she would sneak out if she got the chance. The heat in the tent would be unbearable without a breeze to stir it, and the smell wasn't even worth considering.
As Alana undressed for bed, Kalen's eyes stayed glued to her body. She knew what he wanted, but wasn't ready to give it to him, mentally or physically. He seemed aware of this, simply snuggling into her back as he climbed in bed with her. For the first time in days, Alana felt safe and secure.
"I will do my best to protect you," he whispered against her head. Alana rolled over in his arms, her breasts pressing firmly against him. Feeling brave, and more than a little thankful, she gently bit him, then licked the marks. A growl rumbled through his chest as he scooted down the bed and settled his mouth on her shoulder.
"Gently," Alana murmured, with a little fear in her voice. Conceding to her wishes, the bite was little more than a scratch, though it still drew blood.
"Thank you. I know it is not in your nature." Burying her head in Kalen's chest, Alana smiled at his comment. It seemed that she was pleasing him left, right and centre tonight. It was something that she felt good about. Considering the loss of her baby, the death of the doctor, and the move to a battlefield full of cruel, lonely warriors, it was surprising that she had any capacity to feel good left at all.
