Chapter Nine—Forces of Good and Evil

 

His heavy heart made for heavy tread upon the secret stairs that led from the dungeons to his room and beyond.

He wished he’d had more time with Tanis, to get him to see that serving the Duke was not so bad a fate as he feared. The Duke might be a selfish man, but Curran had never witnessed Luthias commit a truly cruel or unkind act. Surely there was another side to the story Tanis had told about Gavin and his own scars…

Voices carried down the cold tunnel to his ears. At first, Curran assumed it was loud conversation from one of the rooms along the way. However, as he climbed he realized the sound echoed from within, rather than without. He slowed his steps, glad to be wearing soft leather boots that didn’t leave a mark of his passing upon the stone.

“Luthias, you motherless cur.”

Curran held himself still, even as his breast heaved with the desire to run the traitor through for speaking ill of the Duke.

The Duke’s low voice rumbled softly in response. “Let us get on with our exchange, for I like being in your presence no better than you enjoy being in mine, you heathen swine.”

The other man spoke with a burr so thick it took Curran an extra moment to puzzle through his meaning. “I’ll nae stand for ye to bugger me again, Luthias.”

“Refuse me, and your men will die of starvation. Play along, and one or two of them might live.”

“What you ask of us, it’s nae right.”

“The choice is yours, of course. But remember I know where your village lies. It is far more convenient for my troops to travel that short distance than to wage my little war in the land of your enemies.”

Although they had paused during this exchange, Curran heard the moment they resumed their descent. He had to hide, or he would be discovered. He took the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could until he reached a door that opened under his hand. He backed inside, and pressed the door closed so that only a crack remained.

Luthias and the other man passed. They carried no lamp in the darkness, as if they’d taken the path so many times they could do it blind. And with no light behind him, Curran couldn’t see much of them from his position either. He smelled a hint of horse, saw a flash of plaid, but not enough to confirm if the visitor was a member of a clan that spied for the Duke or one of the enemy raiders who came to barter a truce.

The first seemed more likely. After all, what reason would Luthias have to meet with murdering traitors? It didn’t sound as if these two had peace on their mind.

Suddenly a pair of small hands wormed their way under the back of his shirt. Curran stiffened, unsure of where he was or who would be at his back. This wasn’t a path he had explored before.

“So it is you, Curran, that he has sent to me tonight. How…unusual.”

He knew that voice. It belonged to the Duchess. Not good.

He tried to disentangle her cold, quick hands from his clothing, but she hadn’t given him leave to touch her so all he could do was try to move out of her range. “No one sent me, your Grace.”

“Always so formal,” she said, pursuing him. “You need not keep up that guise here. For once I have been sent a visitor who I will enjoy thoroughly, and there is no need to waste time on formalities.”

Again her fingers went to the laces on his shirt. There was no way he wanted to bed her. Even if Tanis hadn’t satisfied him so well, it would be impossible for him to rise to the occasion. Her soft body just didn’t move him.

“It is no act, your Grace. I speak truly when I tell you I was not asked to come here, but stumbled upon this room by pure happenstance.”

Her fingers stilled. “Luthias did not send you to me?”

“No, your Grace. If he had, I would have sought you out in your chamber. How is it that you come to be here?”

His eyes were well adjusted to the darkness, but he could see little in the closed room. No windows for the moonlight to steal in, no candles to bring a soft glow. He thought he could spot a sleeping pallet against the wall, but there was little else in the room. Obviously this room had only one purpose, and the Duchess had somehow been coerced into providing that service.

“Never mind that,” she said, nervousness adding a tremor to her voice. “You must leave. Now.”

“Would you like me to escort you to your room?” He felt far more comfortable in her presence since she’d retreated of her own accord.

“No. I must remain. Please, get yourself out of here. Forget you ever saw this place, or that we have spoken this night.”

It would be easier if she had tasked him with bringing down the moon. There were too many secrets in the castle walls for all to be aboveboard. Evander’s words of warning rose to his mind, and he was beginning to believe there was more to his hunch than simply a servant’s uneducated fears.

She bumped into him in an effort to shove him out. He moved accordingly, and she glanced through the crack he’d left. “If you hurry, you should make it back to your room before he returns.”

“And if I do not?”

“Pray you succeed, young warrior, or not even your brave and honest heart will save you.”

 

 

 

Curran entered his room on catlike feet. He had the strangest urge to check his back for dagger marks.

He stripped to his skin and cleaned up with the cold water left in the washbasin. Thoughts flew through his mind like scattered birds.

What was Luthias’s wife doing in that small closet of a room? Who had she been expecting?

Who had the Duke been meeting with, and for what purpose?

Why did the Duchess and Evander demand that he return to his room by a certain hour or suffer dire consequences?

Foolish notions, Curran told himself. Sure, the Duke’s conversation seemed a little ominous. Who wouldn’t think that after all he’d been told? His mood already black after his disagreement with Tanis, he was much more likely to see the negative aspect of things. In the morning, it would make more sense. He would wait to sort out his impressions then.

Curran climbed into his bed and rested on top of the blankets. Naked, he stretched out, wishing he had been able to spend a few more hours with Tanis instead of having to rush away as he had. But not even those thoughts could keep him awake for long.

He woke an indeterminable amount of time later, while the sky was still painted black. At first he thought nothing of the soft noises, remembering his old barracks where the shifting of other restless bodies was a common occurrence. Then his brain alerted him to his real surroundings, and he sat upright to see who had entered his room.

Four black figures, distinguishable only because their presence blocked out what little light entered through his window, ringed his bed.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded. “What are you doing in my chamber?”

“Rise and follow,” the one to his right intoned.

“I will not. Not until I am given an explanation.”

He clutched at the bed linens to cover himself. He was far too exposed without any clothing, any cover, any weapon. His mind spun in a frantic search for options that would allow him to escape or at least warn others that there were intruders inside the castle walls, but no solution presented itself.

The figure to his left tore the heavy blankets from his grasp and dropped them upon the floor.

“Rise and follow,” the one on his right repeated.

Seeing he had little choice in the matter, Curran did as asked. “Where are we going? May I dress first?”

“No. Come.”

They left by regular means which Curran found more disquieting than if they’d used the secret passages and marched through the castle corridors. He walked behind two of the figures, while the remaining two trailed after him. He thought he knew where they were taking him—to Luthias’ audience chamber—so he was surprised when they stopped before the door to the castle’s chapel.

One of the figures opened the door and another one pushed him inside. A fire had been lit in the fireplace behind the table-like altar. Yet despite the warm temperature, Curran shivered. This was no religious ceremony about to take place.

Fat tallow candles sat in braces on the two side walls. Their flames danced gleefully as the group passed, with Curran now in the lead. As they neared the front of the room, the door to the priest’s nook opened and Luthias stepped out. The Duke wore a white gown that covered him from shoulder to ankle in much the same way as the black fabric covered the others.

Despite the strange clothing and manner of his arrival, Curran had never been so relieved to see another human being in his life. Surely if he were to be taken into the Duke’s household, the man wouldn’t let him come to harm.

“Welcome, Curran. You are turning out to be everything I had hoped you would.”

Curran bowed his head in acknowledgment of the compliment and bit his tongue against saying that he’d been given little choice in the matter. Being roused from a sound sleep after a disturbing night had been hard on his sunny nature, but it wasn’t wise to take his ire out on the Duke.

His escorts fanned out and sat on the first bench, two to either side. Curran was left standing as Luthias ducked into the small storage room at the opposite end of the wall from the Priest’s nook. When the Duke returned, he held a chalice in one hand.

“Drink this, and then we will talk.”

The fluid in the cup smelled vile. Like rancid honey. He put it to his lips and sipped it under the watchful gaze of the Duke. The stuff tasted worse than it smelled. He held his breath and swallowed the contents in three large gulps.

“Again you exceed my expectations, young Curran. I will have to think of a suitable reward to give Tanis for bringing you to my attention.”

“If Tanis had his way, I would not be here at all,” Curran admitted, unsure why he felt the need to make sure the Duke knew the truth of it.

“Of that, I have no doubt,” Luthias replied. “Still, a favor is a favor and should be rewarded. I will think of something, never fear.”

“As you wish, your Grace.”

“So willing to please. That is what I like about you, Curran. Your loyalty remains true even when the evidence is contrary to your beliefs.”

Curran was distracted from responding by a flare of fire in his belly. He didn’t need it as the room was far too warm to begin with. However, he could do nothing to stop the flood of heat that coursed through him, bringing sweat to his brow.

“Do you know why you have been brought here?”

“No, your Grace.”

“Because without me you are nothing. You have nothing. Do you understand this?”

Mutely, he nodded. The heat had become a painful burning. He kept his groan inside only because his teeth were clamped so tightly together.

“Speak. Let these witnesses hear your answer.”

“Yes, your Grace,” Curran panted in between ragged breaths. “I am your loyal, humble servant because without you I am nothing.”

White hot pain erupted in his belly and he could no longer hold back a gasp. His legs weakened and, in the next instant, he fell in a heap upon the floor. He curled into a ball, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. Curran didn’t want to display any sign of weakness in front of the Duke, but he had little control over his own body now.

Dear God, what had he done to deserve such vile treatment?

Curran dimly registered the sounds of the Duke squatting beside him. “Those who serve me must sometimes suffer. Do you have the courage, the strength to accept this without complaint?”

Curran’s head bobbed, more from the shudders that wracked his body rather than from any actual agreement on his part.

“Good. You are wise, for those who suffer on my behalf will also know great rewards.”

Curran felt several pairs of hands lift him and deposit his body on the long stone slab that served as an altar. The men rubbed his limbs, soothing the cramped muscles. The lip of another cup—this one containing a thick, sweet syrup—slipped between his lips. It coursed down his throat, cooling the burn, and he swallowed automatically.

“See, you now have proof that while being in my service can bring on suffering, I have the power to ease it. This lesson tonight will ensure you remember the full extent of my power.”

“I will remember,” Curran agreed. Whether or not he said so aloud remained in doubt until the Duke spoke again.

“And will you also remember your pledge to me? That you are mine in mind, spirit and in body?”

“I will.”

“Then I welcome you into my innermost circle, Curran Aurick. >From this day forth, you will be known as Sir Curran of the House of Otterburn, with all the rights and responsibilities that come with bearing my name. Let all you meet see this sword and know that it is true.”

Curran could see the hilt and little else, but that was enough. The pommel contained the Duke’s personal crest. He’d finally proven himself and become the knight he’d always dreamed of being. What pain still lingered left his body as he sagged with relief.

He nearly dropped off into the sweet heaven of dreams, but a curious rustling sound had him drawing his lids up one more time. Naked flesh shifted before his eyes. Torsos, buttocks, cocks and shoulders swirled around him.

“What is this?” he asked through lips numb with fatigue.

“Now, Curran, we will share our joy at having you in our ranks.”

No way could this be real, Curran thought as he watched the four naked men climb up on the table and straddle his limbs. Each took his own member in hand and stroked it to firmness. The sight was so arousing that Curran felt his own cock harden just by watching them.

“Impressive,” Luthias declared, running his finger over Curran’s length. “Very few have the reserve to rise to the occasion after drinking of the potions of sin and salvation. I think such strength should be rewarded, don’t you?”

Curran couldn’t see who the Duke spoke to, but in the next instant the pressure on his thigh changed and he could feel a hot, wet mouth slide over the head of his cock. “Ahhh!”

His back arched as he thrust into that moistness. He felt disconnected from his physical form, almost floating outside of it. The human part of himself that protested this bizarre treatment seemed to be locked away, leaving a base nature in charge of his body. He received the impulses of pleasure but had little control over the way he responded.

The Duke, now equally naked, climbed upon the table as well. He stood over Curran, one foot to either side of his hip and facing him. One of the men changed position to tongue Luthias’ balls where they dangled so temptingly. The one sucking Curran’s cock increased his pace, drawing him in deeper and with more pressure.

Curran bucked with desire. The Duke closed his eyes and moaned as his knight plied him with the same attentions that Curran was receiving. The two at his shoulders drew closer so they could rub their cockheads together until pre-come glistened from the tips. Curran stuck out his tongue, hoping for a taste, and was rewarded as the pair stroked his tongue with their wetness, fucking his mouth in turns.

Grunts and groans of men approaching the pinnacle of their pleasure filled the chamber. So overwhelmed with the need for release, Curran couldn’t even give his partner a warning as his seed spilled out in a mighty river. As if that were the signal to the rest, one by one the men came. The Duke held out the longest, waiting until all eyes were on him. His gaze locked on Curran, mouthing the word Mine over and over as he spilled his semen upon Curran’s chest.

Curran either fell asleep or, more likely, blacked out then. He faded in and out as he was carried back to his room. Evander was there, waiting for him. The men left as silently as they had arrived. The servant ignored them, already tending to Curran’s needs. He wiped the sticky mess from his skin, all the while muttering about immoral wickedness and evils of the flesh.

Then another fragment of time vanished and Curran found he was alone. He rolled over, punched his pillow, and determined that the surreal interlude had been nothing more than a twisted dream, perhaps brought on by a bit of tainted meat combined with his lingering desire for Tanis.

Until his hand drifted to the other side of the bed where it encountered the steel reminder of oaths made and promises given.