Conquering Lazar (2 page)

The brutal sun baked the skin on their backs as they trekked through the utter ruins of a world squeezed dry. Elbi held her arm at her brow, bathed in sweat, shielding her face from the sun. She locked her eyes on Malachi's flapping leather jacket, which was covered in streaks of dried blood. To her, he struck a gut feeling she couldn't quite put into words. Somehow, she just knew everything would be all right.

Malachi led the crew, his gleaming sword dangling from his belt. In his hand, he tossed a dagger around between his fingers. Elbi's eyes narrowed in on the way his dark hair rested on his tanned neck. It curled slightly at the ends and shone brightly under the sun's rays. He had several days' worth of facial hair, which only added to his rugged, mysterious allure.

She wondered if he remembered her as she remembered him. She had only been called to his chamber once when she was at the palace, but that encounter was one she would never forget. The memory of his touch helped her cope with the blazing heat.

* * * * *

He had summoned her to his chamber, and she'd arrived in the silky, golden gown he'd instructed she wear. He was dressed down inasmuch as he could be; a belted tunic, undershirt, and trousers in the palest blue, green and brown. As soon as she arrived, he gestured for her to close the door, but he didn't turn to face her. She stopped a few feet away after doing as she was bid. Hesitation tangled at her feet before she finally knelt before him.

"Yes, sir?"

"Good girl." He finally turned to face her, but his expression was somber, verging on grim. "But you took too long to say it."

"My apologies, sir. It will not happen again." Elbi ducked her head repentantly and stared at her hands, folded as they were in her lap.

"See that it does not."

"Yes, sir."

The silence that hung after her words was painful, and she fought the urge to lift her head and look upon his face. It was only when he closed the distance between them and touched her chin with his fingers that she was permitted to look.

"It has been brought to my attention that you are removing your anal plugs during your training."

She tried to look down at the ground so she wouldn't have to see the disapproval in his eyes, but he held her chin in place, glaring into her blue eyes.

"You will be expected to wear the plug for as long as we deem necessary, and now you will be expected to wear an even larger one. Do you understand?"

"Of course, sir. I understand." It wasn't that she truly hated wearing them, or that they hurt. It was that she hated how aroused her body became, and that there was never a release. Her pussy always dripped in need, and the hunger for touch—any touch—almost was too much to endure.

He didn't so much as smile. His fingers dropped from her chin and, without the support, her head simply dropped forward again. Her breath caught in her chest and everything went dim around her. Elbi felt terribly faint and her fingers tightened in the folds of her gown, desperate to clutch something, anything at all, for support.

"I must punish you for your disobedience, Elbi. You agree, do you not?"

"Yes." The word barely squeaked out, breathless and aching. She looked up into his stern face, and the tears that had built in her eyes finally dared to stream forth. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

"Disrobe, now. Go stand in the corner." The command shook her nerves, and Elbi uttered a small moan of fear, mixed with aroused anticipation.

"Now."

She shuddered and removed her clothing as fast as she could, rushing to the corner as he demanded. She could smell the dust mingling with her tears. She could feel her breath bounce off the wall against her face and hear the quivering of it all the more keenly.

It felt like an eternity before his hand came to rest on the back of her head. He stroked his fingers through her hair and whispered in her ear, "You are a good girl, Elbi. I will be much easier on you this time because of your obvious submission. But from this moment on, I expect you to obey the rules of the harem."

He swatted her naked ass as she remained in the corner. The first searing spank shocked her, but the second and third weakened her legs. He continued to spank as her face remained inches from the wall.

"This time, I will only use my hand against your flesh. But if you remove a plug again, you will feel the sting of leather." He spanked with each syllable of his spoken word.

She cried. Not because of the hurt, but because she desperately wanted to feel his warmth beneath her by being placed over his knee. Standing alone in the corner was far worse than any spanking ever delivered to her before.

The spanking continued, swat after swat, each one growing harder than the one before. "Please… please, sir!" The sniveling wasn't comely and she knew it. He reminded her of it by withdrawing his hand and walking away. She could hear him move across the room, could imagine him turning his back to her. She started to cry even harder, and the weight of his silence only made it worse.

He returned and stood behind her. His body was so close that she could almost feel his heat. Elbi gasped when he grabbed her butt and spread her cheeks. He placed a moist finger at her anus and pressed firmly but without entering. "If I wanted to claim your ass right now, could I?" He pressed his finger past her tight entrance.

Elbi tensed and bit her lip to not cry out.

He thrust his finger deeper. "The purpose of the anal training is to prepare you so you can give your body in any way we choose without unnecessary discomfort. We demand your pleasure as much as we demand ours."

Elbi nodded, because finding words was impossible in her heated state.

Malachi pumped his finger in and out a few more times and then withdrew it completely, replacing it with the cool glass of a butt plug. He inserted it without pause. The stretch to her anus caused her to clench, which only elevated the biting sting.

"You are dismissed, Elbi. You must continue with your training to fully be a harem girl. The ability to submit is truly an art. Remember that. Return to the harem." His dismissive command stabbed at her heart.

She wasn't sure how she was going to walk out of the room, but she managed to. Just barely. She staggered up and went for the door at a near run, all the while pawing at the loose wisps of her hair and the tears that streaked her face. She didn't look to see him—but she didn't want to. It would have hurt entirely too much. His lack of comfort, or a soothing embrace, was by far the worst punishment she had yet received.

* * * * *

Yes. She most definitely remembered Malachi.

Ever since they started the journey, he walked beside her horse, but never said a word. She couldn't take the silence any longer.

"Are we heading back to the Palace of Lazar?"

Malachi gurgled water in his mouth, then spat in the sand. "The palace was captured by Jaden." His words were like a punch to the gut. "We have another commune set up until we build up our forces and take the palace back."

"What about everyone else? The rest of the girls? Are they okay?" She was scared to ask the question. Scared of what the answer might be, but she had to know.

Malachi placed the dagger he had been playing with back in his pocket. "Some are. Some lost their lives. We will know more when we all gather at Casen."

"Casen?"

"It is the commune we have been preparing for quite some time. It is in no way as nice as Lazar, but it will provide us with what we need for now." Malachi's eyes gazed at the mottle of violet bruises covering her pale skin, making her self-conscious of her faded beauty. "We will be able to provide medical care to those who need it, food, water and shelter. My brother, Donte, is expecting us."

"Your brother?" She had no idea that Donte was a brother of Lazar.

He simply nodded as he walked.

A dry wind blew loose strands of her filthy blonde hair. "Will Jaden come for us there?" Tears filled her eyes.

Malachi drifted much closer to her side. "Eventually, I am sure. But I promise you that if they do, we will be ready this time. Vengeance will be ours."

She gazed at the rough cracked skin on Malachi's hands. "Are we at war? I remember hearing stories as a child… of great wars with no winners."

"There will be a winner in this one." His voice, so low and cool in tone, sent a shiver through her body.

"I'm scared." She couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Her cherished palace was gone and she was no more than a desert nomad, walking the wasted dunes, one day at a time. Her dream had been shattered and now, with the thought of war, her nightmare of an existence had returned. She didn't want to live the life of her childhood again. Small, overcrowded communes infested with plague, hunger and hate—Vostok was just one of many.

Malachi's fingers curled tight on Elbi's fragile leg, and he looked up into her teary eyes when she flinched at his touch. "I will make sure you are protected from this point on. I know you have been through a lot. More than I know, I'm sure, and more than I want to know. But I will never let you feel that fear again. Do you hear me?"

"You won't send us away like before?"

"No. Never again."

Elbi nodded, her lips slightly parted. No one had ever told her she mattered before. Even in Malachi's cold roundabout way, he had made her feel special. She believed that he truly would try to keep her safe. Foolish maybe, to have such faith in someone, but what choice did she really have? Women of the communes didn't have many choices. She had learned that at a very early age.

Living at the palace gave her a life she never imagined. Silks, satins, jewels and luxury filled her days. Food and water were never a want, and comfort was never a need. The Palace of Lazar was her heaven. She cried harder at the thought of it all being gone.

Malachi effortlessly hopped on the back of her horse without even having the horse stop. He wrapped his arms around her. "You will be safe, I will make sure of it. Dry those tears," he soothed softly in her ear.

She nodded her head and sniffled back her tears to the best of her ability. His embrace gave her the strength she needed. "Thank you. I'm sorry for being such a burden. I know you need us all to be strong."

He stroked her matted hair. "You are strong, Elbi. You are much stronger than you know. There is no shame in being afraid." He tightened his grip around her. "Press back against me and rest."

She leaned back against his weight and wondered how much longer they'd travel before reaching Casen. Intense exhaustion throbbed deep in her lower back. By comparison, Malachi didn't seem an ounce uncomfortable after marching for nearly five hours.

Her lips parched
,
she felt sick to her stomach, battered and browbeaten by the sun. Drops of sweat ran down her arms. Her vision clouded and the ringing in her ears escalated, all the signs warning her that she was about to faint.

As if he, too, saw the warning signs, Malachi put a flask of water to her lips. The cooling burn of water moistened her mouth. Elbi coughed into her fist.

"Malachi," she rasped. "You don't need to waste your water on me."

"How are you feeling?"

"My throat... it's so tight."

He ever so gently held the back of Elbi's head. Her hair waterfalled through his big meaty fingers. "Drink up," he told her.

Elbi struggled to lift her arms and sip from Malachi's flask. The lukewarm liquid shot down and stung her throat.

She stared up, crumpled in Malachi's arms. Her hair swung in a tangled disarray, her clothes were in tatters, but she felt safe. Safely wrapped in Malachi's embrace on a horse in a war-torn desert.

He looked at the sky, squinted up ahead, and then back at the sky again. "We will need to stop and hole up here for a while. You will have to bundle up. A sandstorm is coming."

"But what about Jaden? What if they catch up to us?"

"Jaden's army will not find us here. When I said I would let no one hurt you, I meant it."

She breathed deeply, her small waifish body contorted in Malachi's grasp. He dismounted from the horse, carrying Elbi through the crowd. He gave the commands to his men, and his militia dropped their weapons and belongings, ready to set up a temporary shelter. They all saw to the rest of the women as if each girl had been assigned to them.

Slopes of sand blew in the air. Looking out at the huddled masses, Elbi saw that each of them wore something wrapped around their faces. They hunkered down in the dead center of a sandstorm. Inhaling sand at this speed would scrape like gravel along the lining of your lungs, or suffocate you in your sleep. Blasting wind this high in the dunes would keep anyone—Jaden army or not—at bay. Elbi sat next to Malachi, wriggling her toes in the warm sand.

"We will return to Lazar," he said, and drew a picture in the sand with his dagger in his hand as they sat and waited for the storm to fully hit.

Elbi glanced down at the drawing of a palace with sun rays bouncing out of its borders. "The Palace of Lazar," she replied. "It was the only home I knew."