The Dragon Lord's Daughters (31 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: The Dragon Lord's Daughters
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Junia bit her lip, but then she whispered to Simon, “We have no choice, my love. I want no other but you. I care not the circumstances.”
“This is barbaric,” he whispered back, touching her face tenderly. “Junia, I am so sorry, for I do love you.” He was ashamed, for his manhood was now as hard as the rocks that stood about this clearing, and he lusted for Junia as he had never lusted for another. Encircled by his father and his men, he was being forced to rape the girl he loved. And what was worse, he wanted to take her. He couldn't help himself.
“Think of another time and place,” Junia murmured in his ear. “We are there. Not here. We are alone, Simon. Alone to indulge our passions for each other. Make love to me, my darling. Make love to me here and now!” Her words were braver than she was feeling, and what of her little brother, now trussed like a slaughtered deer on Hugo de Bohun's saddle.
“Do you know the first time hurts?” he whispered, and when she nodded he said, “You must scream loudly else my father will not be satisfied, sweeting. I don't want him hurting you again.” He found the soft entry into her body, relieved that she was moist.
“Get on with it!” his father shouted. “Will you just lay atop her like a wet coverlet, boy? Ride her hard, Simon! Ride her hard!”
“I am not afraid,” Junia told him. “I love you, Simon de Bohun!” She felt him pushing carefully into her inexperienced body, and she was grateful for his care of her in this terrible circumstance.
“Have you got it in her yet?” Hugo shouted.
Junia moaned convincingly, and her tormentor grinned, pleased.
“Am I hurting you?” Simon gasped.
Junia almost laughed, but she swallowed back her giggle. “Nay, it is for effect, my love.” Then her green eyes widened as he pushed farther within her innocent body, and she felt herself opening to take him him. “Oh! Ohh! Ohhh!” she cried out, and her eyes closed, for she could not bear to look at the cruel and lustful faces of the men staring down on them another moment. The two men holding her legs apart now stood, pulling her legs up and wider as Simon's manhood slid deeper.
Hugo de Bohun was not yet satisfied with his son's performance. The lad was coddling the girl. Walking over to his stallion he pulled a leather strap from the saddle. The boy thrown across his mount glared with angry eyes at him, but could say naught for they had gagged him. Hugo walked back into the circle where his son was carefully moving on the girl now. Raising the leather in his hand he brought it down across Simon's bare buttocks, laughing as his son jerked in surprise.
“Enough of this shilly-shallying, lad!” he cried. “Impale her fully. I'll not stop whipping you until you do!” He brought the leather strap down again and again on Simon's bared bottom until his son began to move swiftly upon the girl beneath him.
“I am sorry, my love,” Simon groaned, and then he thrust hard, shattering Junia's maidenhead, almost weeping at her genuine scream of pain.
“Keep it going, lad!” his father shouted, beating Simon all the harder with the leather strap. “I want her furrow well plowed, and watered with your juices.”
Junia thought for a moment that she was going to die, but she quickly realized better. She kept her eyes tightly shut, but she could not drown out the sound of Hugo de Bohun's vile words, nor the sounds the men surrounding them were making as they watched the spectacle before them. Her head thrashed back and forth with the pain. The worst of it was quickly gone, but the continued friction of Simon's manhood was irritating her. Then she felt him stiffen atop her. He shuddered, and there was the sensation of something filling her body. He slumped for a moment atop her, but then regaining his composure arose, pulling Junia up with him.
“You've had your entertainment, you devil!” he snarled at his father. “Now let Junia go. And her little brother.”
“Nay, lad,” his father told him. “They are coming with us. The boy will spend the rest of his days in my dungeons. And your Welsh whore will spend her time in your bed awaiting your pleasure. You love her. I can see it in your eyes, Simon. You won't be able to resist using her despite your vaunted nobility. I have done you a great kindness, my son. You will have your cake, and eat it too. Your Welsh leman, and Aceline de Bellaud as your wife with her lands matching ours, and all her other wealth.” Hugo de Bohun smiled at his son, but it was more a sneer than a smile.
“No! I won't have it!” Simon shouted at the older man.
Hugo laughed. “You won't have it? Oh, have you tired already of your Welsh whore, my son? Will you give her to me, or perhaps to my men? For if you do not protect her that is what will happen to her. The wench's only chance at survival is if she belongs to you, Simon. Do you understand me? If she does not belong to you, then she is fair game for my soldiers. Now pull up your chausses and get dressed. There is rain coming, and I do not wish to be caught out in a late summer's downpour.” He turned away from his son, his lustful look going to Junia. “Did you enjoy your first cock, girl? You'll take mine, and many others, before you finally die. But for now my son will keep you safe. His wife, however, may not be as open-minded.”
Junia glared at him, and pulled on her chemise. “Give me my boots, old man,” she snarled. She was bleeding, and she hurt, but she would say nothing.
“You'll ride barefoot, bitch,” he growled back. “Slave whores don't wear shoes. And if you ever throw anything at me again I'll take this strap I used on your lover and beat you myself. Do you understand me, girl?”
Junia nodded, pulling her green gown over her head. As she quickly rebraided her hair her eyes went to her brother. His face was wet with his tears. Dear God, had he seen it all?
I will kill Hugo de Bohun one day,
Junia thought to herself.
I swear by the blessed St. David that I will kill him!
She walked over to Brynn and brushed the tears off his cheeks. “It's all right, Brynn,” she told him. “Simon loves me. We will get through this.”
“Get away from the prisoner, girl!” Hugo de Bohun ordered her, his thick fingers grasping hard at her arm and dragging her away from the boy.
Junia drew away from him saying, “He's just a child, my lord. Let him go.”
“He is your father's only son,” Hugo de Bohun said, grinning evilly, “isn't he?”
Junia stared stony-faced at her tormentor.
“And so ends the proud line of Arthur,” Hugo de Bohun sneered. “Get on your horse, wench. One of my men will lead it, and your hands are to be bound.”
“Do what pleases you, my lord,” Junia replied.
He laughed again. “You're a hard wench. You'll give my son a goodly number of strong little bastards. I shall look forward to dandling them on my knee.”
“I will strangle them at birth,” Junia answered him, smiling wickedly.
“By God, wench, I have, I think, made a mistake giving you to my son instead of keeping you for myself. I thought you to be a weak as water little bitch, for my son is a weak as water man. But you are all fire and fight. Still, I could tame you.”
“Not even at the height of your powers, my lord,” Junia told him, “but you are long past those days, are you not?”
Hugo de Bohun laughed again. He had always enjoyed a challenge. He would leave the Pendragon girl to his son as he had promised, but come Simon's wedding night to Aceline de Bellaud, his fiery Welsh leman would be fair game, Hugo decided. He would have the wench beneath him then. And when he had finished with her she would never again be satisfied with his son Simon. But there was plenty of time for that, and the wait for Junia Pendragon would make having her all the better. Licking his lips in anticipation he led the girl to her horse and lifted her up, sliding his hand beneath her bottom and squeezing her buttocks as he did so. He laughed when she swore at him.
Chapter
15
T
he de Bohun home of Agramant was fashioned of dark stone. It was a small castle with four square towers, and black slate roofs. They rode across a drawbridge which lay over a water moat, and beneath an iron portcullis into the courtyard. This would not, Junia, realized, be an easy place from which to escape. She watched helplessly as her brother was pulled from Hugo de Bohun's horse. Brynn fell heavily to his knees, unable at first to stand, for he had been left across de Bohun's horse head down for several hours now. The men-at-arms who had been accompanying them laughed, and prodded him up cruelly, but Brynn was yet dizzy and could not remain upright. When he could not, the master of Agramant kicked the boy, shouting at him to arise.
Simon stepped between Brynn and his father. “Let the boy alone, Father. He will stand in a moment or two when he is able. His head is surely spinning from being across your horse all that time.”
“Pah! What a weakling you are,” Hugo said irritably. “A real man would not show compassion for an enemy.”
“Brynn is eleven, Father, and hardly dangerous,” Simon replied.
“The brat injured one of my men and tried to skewer me,” Hugo growled. “He showed considerable skill with that little weapon of his. He had no right to attack us.”
“You were threatening his sister, Father,” Simon reminded Hugo. Turning away from the older man Simon bent and put an arm about Brynn. “Can you rise now, lad?” he asked the boy gently.
Brynn nodded, eyes wary.
“I didn't know they followed me, Brynn, I swear it,” Simon murmured low as he undid the binding about the boy's mouth and helped him up.
Brynn licked his dry lips several times, and swallowed once or twice before saying, “Thank you, Simon. I'm all right now.”
“Take the brat to my dungeons,” Hugo de Bohun said. “Look about you, boy. 'Tis the last glimpse of the world you are likely to see except for the scrap of sky from your cell.” And he laughed.
“If I had been but a moment quicker, de Bohun, I could have killed you,” Brynn said boldly. “Next time, and there will be a next time, I will succeed.”
“Brave words, boy, but after a few weeks in my dungeons you will see the futility of those words. Take him away!” Hugo de Bohun now turned to Junia who was still sitting, hands bound, upon her horse. Licking his lips he leered at her, jumping back quickly as she spat at him. “Take your bitch to your chamber, Simon, and keep her there until I say she may come into the hall,” Hugo said irritably. “You did well today, my son. Her screams were most gratifying.” Then turning away he entered his castle followed by the men who had accompanied him.
Simon walked over to Junia and gently undid the rough strip of leather that had bound her slender wrists to the saddle's pommel. Junia slid immediately from her mount, but her legs buckled as her feet touched the ground. Simon caught her, preventing her fall, but was disturbed by the great shudder that racked her body when he touched her.
“Junia, my love, what is the matter?” he queried her.
Junia closed her green eyes briefly. “I want a place to hide,” she whispered to him in an odd little voice. She drew away from him, and he saw her face was very pale.
He nodded, immediately understanding that the shock of the past few hours was finally beginning to affect her. “Can you walk unaided?” he asked her.
“I th-think so,” she said low.
He held out his hand, but she drew back. “Come with me, then,” he said with a sigh, his hand dropping.
“Don't let him see me,” Junia pleaded softly as Simon brought her into the castle. “I cannot be brave any longer.”
“You'll be brave again after a meal, and a good night's sleep,” Simon said as he led her up a flight of stone stairs and down a dim hallway.
“I hurt,” Junia replied, following him through a door into a small chamber.
“So do I,” he responded. “I know my father took great pleasure in laying that strap across my buttocks. They still burn. I'll see you have water to bathe yourself, Junia, and the ache will be gone come the morrow, I am certain.”
Junia looked about the chamber. The walls and the floor were stone. There was a bed, a chest, a stool, and little else. There was no hearth for a fire. The single window was shuttered with two sturdy wooden shutters. The bed, however, was curtained, and would provide some shelter against the winds that would creep through the cracks in the walls and the window.
“What does he mean to do with my brother?” Junia asked Simon.
“I am not certain yet, but I do not think he will kill him,” came the reply.
“Will he torture him?” Junia pressed.
“I don't know, but I will do my best to dissuade him from harming Brynn,” Simon answered. He couldn't lie to her, but perhaps he could convince Hugo to leave the boy alone. Merin Pendragon would eventually come for his children, and Simon determined to do all in his power to help the Dragon Lord regain their custody even if it meant going against his father. Hugo's cruelty this afternoon had surpassed his previous worst efforts. Simon remembered his mother, and how she had struggled to see that her only child did not grow up to be the man his father was. Anne de Bohun had been a compassionate and kind woman of great faith. So much so that his father had gone against his very nature to please her while she lived. He had been unable to maintain his reformation once she had died. Anne had held his demons at bay. Without her he was helpless to do so, and not even the son they had created together could help him.
Simon considered how horrified his mother would have been at the rape of Junia Pendragon. And it had been rape despite the fact Junia had cooperated. It had not been at all the way he had envisioned their first coming together. It had been lewd, and violent. And now he saw Junia's brave façade beginning to crumble as fear began to overcome her. He had to prevent those fears from overwhelming her. And he had to keep his father from seeing her afraid.
“I want to see my brother,” Junia said in a quavering voice.
“My father will not let you, sweeting,” Simon replied, “but later I will go below to the dungeons and reassure Brynn. His main concern is for you right now.”
“The Dragon Lord will come, Simon. Oh, God! By our actions we have only revived the feud between our families!” She began to weep.
He reached out to gather her into his arms, but she drew back, the fear in her eyes now very visible. “Junia?”
“Please, Simon, do not touch me,” she whispered. “I do not think I can bear it if you touch me now! Please, I beg of you!” The tears ran down her pale cheeks.
He nodded helplessly. “Junia, I am so sorry. So very, very sorry! You know I would have never touched you but for my father. Say that you can forgive me,” he pleaded. “How can I live knowing what I have done and how it has hurt you?”
Reaching out with a tentative hand Junia patted his hand. “Like the pain between my thighs, Simon, these fears I now harbor will also recede eventually.”
“I will not touch you again in that way until we are wed,” he swore.
Junia shook her dark head. “Oh, Simon, we will never be wed,” she said. “Your father will have his way, and you will marry this girl he has chosen for you. But my father will come, and he will not rest until Brynn and I are free. As for me, no man will have me now. I have been despoiled. But perhaps some convent will accept me despite my modest dower. I have no real calling for the church, but what other road is there for me?”
“I will not marry this Aceline de Bellaud,” Simon responded stubbornly, “and one day I will teach you how sweet passion is between two people who love one another, Junia. I will kill my father before I let him harm you again!”
“Nay, Simon, I will kill him myself one day,” Junia whispered.
There came a scratching upon the door to the chamber, and Simon called, “Enter!”
The door opened to reveal a tiny wizened woman followed by a young girl with a scar across her face that ran from her right temple over the bridge of her nose, and to the left corner of her mouth. The girl carried a basin of water in her hands, and across her arms were several clean cloths.
“Elga!” Simon was relieved to see his nurse.
“Your father boasts of his foul deeds today in the hall,” Elga said, shutting the door behind them. “Put the basin on the stool, Cadi.” Her attention then turned to Junia. “My poor child,” she said. “I am Elga, she who nurtured this laddie, and before him his mother, the Lady Anne of blessed memory. I have come to take care of you now, my chick. Simon, leave us, and do not come back until I tell you.” She shooed him from the chamber, turning back to Junia. “Tell me your name, child.”
“I am Junia Pendragon,” the girl responded.
“And you have been cruelly treated this day, Junia Pendragon,” Elga said. “Let Cadi help you off with your gown, and I will make you feel better if you will allow it.”
“I am so ashamed,” Junia said low, realizing that she was embarrassed. What had she done that had caused Hugo de Bohun to order her rape?
“ 'Tis not you who should be ashamed,” Elga said fiercely, “but rather that fiend who is master here. Do you see Cadi's face? Lord Hugo took her eldest sister for his amusement, and so Cadi's father disfigured his own younger child to protect her. I then took her to help me with my chores, for I am an old woman now. But at least no man will hurt her as you were this day, Junia Pendragon.”
Junia began to cry again, the tears running down her face in dirty runnels.
Elga gathered the girl to her bosom. “There, child, there. My laddie loves you, and he will make it all right. He is a good soul as was his mother, God assoil her. If my lady had been alive this foolish feud between your families might have been settled once and for all. Now I fear for what will happen.”
“My da will come.” Junia sniffled as Cadi helped her from her gown.
“Of course he will,” Elga agreed.
“My brother is in your dungeons,” Junia said. “Elga, he is just a boy!”
“And a brave lad, too. I heard Lord Hugo said the boy might have killed him had he been a bit quicker. Well, better luck next time to him, and then my laddie will rule here at Agramant.” Elga chortled. Then she grew serious once more. “Lie down upon the bed now, my child, and draw your chemise up so I may treat you. Cadi, put a cloth beneath the lady.”
Junia lay down as she had been bidden. She closed her eyes but felt the heat of her embarrassment in her cheeks. Elga
tched
and clucked as she bathed Junia, wiping the blood from her thighs and private parts with a soft cloth and warm water.
“There is an herbal potion in the water that will help to ease the soreness, my child,” Elga told Junia. “You are, of course, no longer a virgin, but there is no real damage done you otherwise. There,” she finished, waving away Cadi and the basin. She drew Junia's chemise back down. “I am going to give you something that will help you to sleep, my child. You will feel better on the morrow, I promise you.”
“But if I sleep I am helpless should he come into this chamber,” Junia whispered fearfully.
“Who, child? Surely not Simon.” Elga's face wore a puzzled look.
“Nay, his father!” Junia cried.
“Lord Hugo will not bother you. He has said aloud in the hall that you are his son's leman. He possesses a strange honor, that monster. He will not touch you as long as Simon protects you by his possession of you. Nay.” She shook her grizzled head. “You need have no fear of Lord Hugo.”
“I must be certain Brynn, my brother, is safe,” Junia said desperately.
“Cadi, slip down to the dungeons and ask after the boy,” Elga said. “I will stay with you, Junia Pendragon, until she returns.”
“Thank you!” Junia replied, and then she accepted the mint-flavored liquid that Elga offered her, asking before she drank it down, “Will you stay with me until I sleep, Elga? I feel safe with you.”
Elga nodded, and then said, “Hurry, Cadi!”
Cadi sped down the stairs, and slipped like a shadow through the hall, taking the flight of steps that led down into the de Bohun dungeon. There was but one guard on duty. Cadi smiled her crooked smile. “Let me see the prisoner,” she cajoled him.
“No one is to see him,” the guard said surlily.
“I'll let you feel my titties if you do,” Cadi tempted the guard. “I just want to have a look. I ain't never seen a Welshman before.”
The guard considered her offer. Her face might be scarred, but he could see by the bulges in her gown that she had big breasts. “Come here!” he told her with a grin.
“Nay. First I get my look, and then you get your feel,” she replied.
He thought a moment, and then he nodded. Even if she didn't mean to keep her promise she still had to get by him to get out of the dungeons so he'd get his feel, all right. “He's over here,” the guard said, leading her to a small wooden door with an iron grill in it. “Hey, laddie, this wench would have a look at you.”

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