Blood and Steel (The Cor Chronicles Volume I) by Martin Parece II
Cor was led by a small man, thin and short of stature with close cropped hair and goatee beard, out of the hall through a doorway. They climbed a flight of stairs and turned down another corridor before stopping at a set of average height double doors. The doors had no lock and opened easily; they were extremely light, likely made of pine with a reddish stain. To call the quarters adequate was a gross understatement. There were two rooms, the first of which was extremely spacious and contained the bed, a huge four poster frame of solid mahogany. The posts were octagonal and as large around as Cor’s thigh, connected at the top to form a canopy from which purple silks hung around all sides of the bed. A large desk of cherry, with a matching plush armchair, stood to one side of a large window with an open interior shutter. The floor of the bedroom was covered in animal skins of various kinds.
Something else in the room drew Cor’s attention; a stark naked teenaged girl sat dejectedly on the edge of the bed. She had long dark hair, near black as is common to most Westerners, that hung loosely and unkempt about her shoulders, partially obscuring view of her breasts. She immediately stood upon Cor’s entry into the room, and he endeavored not to linger with his gaze. Though after looking at her for a moment, Cor was certain she couldn’t be much younger than he. Despite her obvious position of degradation, she was comely and had an extremely well shaped body.
“This room,” said the man, “and everything in it is at your convenience, sir. The next room contains a large bath, also at your convenience. I am Lord Taraq’nok’s House Steward, and I handle all of the castle’s domestic needs. Should anything here not please you, I will rectify it immediately.” The man looked pointedly at the young woman. “His Excellency asks that you make yourself at home and relax. I will return at sunset to bring you to the dining room.” The steward turned and closed the doors behind him.
Cor had no intention of taking advantage of the girl; she was a slave, in a life of degradation, and he would not add to it. Even with his limited experience with sexuality, Cor knew that paying a whore was completely different; that was a business arrangement. Throughout history, the Dahken clearly had their own sense of morality. He didn’t recall slaves ever being mentioned in any of the historical texts one way or the other, but he refused to accept it as moral or acceptable. If there was one thing the Shining West understood, it was that slavery was a vile, disgusting practice to be stamped out. Unfortunately, surrounded by the Loszian Empire there was little he could do about that just now, but he did not have to partake in it.
“What is your name?” he asked her in Loszian, carefully keeping his eyes off of her body. She seemed shocked by the question and looked at him uncomprehendingly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured her.
“Ania.”
“Ania, please put on some clothes.”
“Do I not please you?” she asked, seemingly disappointed. “If you prefer another girl, or a boy, the steward will oblige you.”
“No, not at all. It’s just that you are a slave. You do this because you must or you will be punished,” Cor stumbled over his words. Her naked flesh distracted him, but her reaction surprised him to the point of confusion. She seemed completely accepting of her role in life, and Cor suddenly found difficulty explaining to this admittedly attractive girl why he wouldn’t do as she expected.
“As a slave, you have no will, wants or desires, and I won’t take advantage of that,” he explained. “If you were here of your own will, that would be a different matter.”
“But my lord, I do desire you. I am a slave, and I am here as I was told. But this life is far better than working the fields and being forced to breed more slaves. This is what is expected of me, and if I don’t meet your desires I become useless to my master.” She slowly walked from her position, crossing the room in approach of him. “If I am exceptionally good at providing you enjoyment, I have food, warm shelter and a bed to sleep in. Perhaps, I will even bear your child, making myself more than just a slave.”
She was close to him now, and her smell, quite different from steel and sweat, was easily distinguished. Cor struggled with her rationalization, fighting his urge to simply take her as she came closer. It amazed him that she had such acceptance of her place in this society, and he wasn’t even sure she would know what to do with freedom if it were given to her.
“Please clothe yourself, Ania.”
“I don’t have any clothes, my lord,” she answered, standing mere inches from him. He pulled his eyes from her and strode over to the bed, ripping down some of the silk hanging from the bed’s canopy. He turned back towards Ania and held the silk sheet before him at shoulder level.
“Please Ania, cover yourself in this. I’m tired, and now isn’t the time for this.”
“Yes my lord. Rest now, and perhaps later you will allow me to serve you,” she said while wrapping the silk cloth around her torso under her arms. The silk was shear, and only slightly hid her supple form; Cor could easily see her firm breasts and thin waist through the silk. The fabric only dropped about one inch below the meeting of her legs, and somehow, the entire effect was far more seductive than her fully naked form.
Cor turned back toward the bed and began unbuckling his armor, allowing the pieces to simply fall to the floor. Once down to his tunic and breeches, he sat on the edge of the mattress and unbuckled his swordbelt, leaning Soulmourn against one of the bed’s posts. The mattress was rich with plushness, and he felt his weight settle down into it. The linens were of burgundy satin, smooth and cool to the touch, and Cor lay back in the bed and dozed off.
Something else in the room drew Cor’s attention; a stark naked teenaged girl sat dejectedly on the edge of the bed. She had long dark hair, near black as is common to most Westerners, that hung loosely and unkempt about her shoulders, partially obscuring view of her breasts. She immediately stood upon Cor’s entry into the room, and he endeavored not to linger with his gaze. Though after looking at her for a moment, Cor was certain she couldn’t be much younger than he. Despite her obvious position of degradation, she was comely and had an extremely well shaped body.
“This room,” said the man, “and everything in it is at your convenience, sir. The next room contains a large bath, also at your convenience. I am Lord Taraq’nok’s House Steward, and I handle all of the castle’s domestic needs. Should anything here not please you, I will rectify it immediately.” The man looked pointedly at the young woman. “His Excellency asks that you make yourself at home and relax. I will return at sunset to bring you to the dining room.” The steward turned and closed the doors behind him.
Cor had no intention of taking advantage of the girl; she was a slave, in a life of degradation, and he would not add to it. Even with his limited experience with sexuality, Cor knew that paying a whore was completely different; that was a business arrangement. Throughout history, the Dahken clearly had their own sense of morality. He didn’t recall slaves ever being mentioned in any of the historical texts one way or the other, but he refused to accept it as moral or acceptable. If there was one thing the Shining West understood, it was that slavery was a vile, disgusting practice to be stamped out. Unfortunately, surrounded by the Loszian Empire there was little he could do about that just now, but he did not have to partake in it.
“What is your name?” he asked her in Loszian, carefully keeping his eyes off of her body. She seemed shocked by the question and looked at him uncomprehendingly. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he reassured her.
“Ania.”
“Ania, please put on some clothes.”
“Do I not please you?” she asked, seemingly disappointed. “If you prefer another girl, or a boy, the steward will oblige you.”
“No, not at all. It’s just that you are a slave. You do this because you must or you will be punished,” Cor stumbled over his words. Her naked flesh distracted him, but her reaction surprised him to the point of confusion. She seemed completely accepting of her role in life, and Cor suddenly found difficulty explaining to this admittedly attractive girl why he wouldn’t do as she expected.
“As a slave, you have no will, wants or desires, and I won’t take advantage of that,” he explained. “If you were here of your own will, that would be a different matter.”
“But my lord, I do desire you. I am a slave, and I am here as I was told. But this life is far better than working the fields and being forced to breed more slaves. This is what is expected of me, and if I don’t meet your desires I become useless to my master.” She slowly walked from her position, crossing the room in approach of him. “If I am exceptionally good at providing you enjoyment, I have food, warm shelter and a bed to sleep in. Perhaps, I will even bear your child, making myself more than just a slave.”
She was close to him now, and her smell, quite different from steel and sweat, was easily distinguished. Cor struggled with her rationalization, fighting his urge to simply take her as she came closer. It amazed him that she had such acceptance of her place in this society, and he wasn’t even sure she would know what to do with freedom if it were given to her.
“Please clothe yourself, Ania.”
“I don’t have any clothes, my lord,” she answered, standing mere inches from him. He pulled his eyes from her and strode over to the bed, ripping down some of the silk hanging from the bed’s canopy. He turned back towards Ania and held the silk sheet before him at shoulder level.
“Please Ania, cover yourself in this. I’m tired, and now isn’t the time for this.”
“Yes my lord. Rest now, and perhaps later you will allow me to serve you,” she said while wrapping the silk cloth around her torso under her arms. The silk was shear, and only slightly hid her supple form; Cor could easily see her firm breasts and thin waist through the silk. The fabric only dropped about one inch below the meeting of her legs, and somehow, the entire effect was far more seductive than her fully naked form.
Cor turned back toward the bed and began unbuckling his armor, allowing the pieces to simply fall to the floor. Once down to his tunic and breeches, he sat on the edge of the mattress and unbuckled his swordbelt, leaning Soulmourn against one of the bed’s posts. The mattress was rich with plushness, and he felt his weight settle down into it. The linens were of burgundy satin, smooth and cool to the touch, and Cor lay back in the bed and dozed off.