[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

didn t want to lay open. His voice trembled when he spoke.  You re my master. You
can give me to anyone you want, I know that, but he should have refused. He was
my friend.
 Is he still your friend? the warlord asked.
Kynon wanted to deny it and couldn t. He flushed.  I don t know, master.
Brasius was silent for a long time. He slipped his hand down to Kynon s neck
and rubbed it gently.  You are full of surprises, tribute.
Kynon shivered under the soothing touch. So was the warlord.
* * *
Kynon, sitting on the ground between his master s knees with his head resting
against the warlord s thigh, opened his eyes when he heard the heavy swoosh of the
tent door. He had been asleep, he realized. His body, aching from hard use and
tears, had somehow relaxed enough under his master s touch to let it happen.
The torchlight gleamed in Mistress Hera s chestnut hair as she entered the
tent. She looked at Brasius and Kynon.  Commander?
Tribute
83
 Hera. Brasius s voice was low and calm. He ran his thumb along the outer
edge of Kynon s ear.
Hera raised her eyebrows.  Commander, I am waiting for your tribute.
 Not tonight, Brasius said.  He is worn-out.
Kynon sighed in relief. He wasn t sure he could face the flogger tonight. He
knew the pain could be cathartic, and he trusted it now, but he always fought a
mental battle against fear and disobedience, and he didn t feel strong enough for
that now. His catharsis, he thought, had been the few quiet words he had
exchanged with his master before he d fallen asleep. He didn t want to struggle
again tonight.
Hera drew her brows together.  I hope you do not doubt my ability to train the
tributes, Commander. My experience speaks for itself.
 I don t, Brasius said.  And it does, of course. But not tonight, Hera.
 Commander, she said,  he isn t even in the position!
Kynon heard the rebuke in her tone, and so did Brasius.
The warlord s fingers tightened in Kynon s hair.  He s where I want him,
Hera.
Kynon looked at Hera, hoping she would be pleased. She was regarding him
with raised eyebrows instead, curiously, as though she had seen something that did
not please her, but wasn t sure yet exactly what it was.
84
Lisa Henry
Chapter Five
Segasa
The lid of the crate had been left open. Kynon, rocking gently in the webbing,
could feel the sun on his flesh. He felt more at peace than he had in days. Conal, his
worst humiliation, had been followed by his best fuck from Brasius yet. His cock
was hard at the memory. He could see the sunlight glinting on the bead of clear
precum that leaked from his cockhead.
He closed his eyes, listening to the carters talking. Their voices were low and
cheerful, and they lulled him.
The roads were wider now, smoother, but the plug in his anus was the largest
yet. Every tiny jolt caused it to press against that awful, wonderful place inside
him. It soothed and tormented him all at once. They had traveled through the night
last night. Kynon thought they must be getting close to Segasa. The army had
picked up pace. The men were more energetic, more eager.
Kynon thought he could smell the ocean. He could hear horses and men. He
heard someone call out an order, and the cart rattled to a stop.
 You will look good with a tan, tribute, said the warlord, standing above him.
He bent and began to unfasten Kynon s arms and legs.
Kynon rose awkwardly when his master gave him his hand, feeling the oiled
plug slide out of him, and stood and looked out.
They were on a plain, a patchwork of farms and roads and fields and
hedgerows. A few miles in front of them, low hills rose up. The hills were crested
with towers and spires that gleamed in the sunlight. It was beautiful.
 Segasa, said Brasius.
Tribute
85
Segasa. It was almost mythical. It was the place where his childish nightmares
had come from. Everyone knew it was morally corrupt, decadent, and powerful
beyond imagination. It produced armies that razed kingdoms to the ground. It had
produced the warlord. It was the heart of his enemy.
Kynon had never seen a city so large. Trepidation caught him, and he shivered
in the sunlight. What would happen there, when the strange journey ended? Could
he be humiliated and despoiled any more? He didn t think that he could, but gods,
that was probably just naïveté. Maybe there were a thousand ways left to torture
and torment him. He looked at Brasius, wondering what the man expected of him.
 You may speak.
 I m scared, master, Kynon whispered.
 Of what? Brasius asked. He stroked Kynon s hair.
 Of what will happen there, said Kynon.  I m afraid I ll lose myself more.
Brasius smiled.  You ought to be afraid, tribute. I like it when you re afraid.
 Yes, master. Kynon shivered.
Brasius pushed him toward the end of the cart.  Go with the procurator. You
are the star of my procession.
Kynon climbed carefully down from the cart and followed the robed procurator.
He saw Alysia and the other tributes were already standing at the side of the road,
being scrubbed clean.
Kynon held his arms out obediently as he was cleaned, dried, and oiled. His
skin glistened. His wrists were buckled into leather cuffs behind his back and
connected by a chain to his collar.
When the procurators offered him a cup of their blend, Kynon drank deeply. As
always, it dulled his mind and went straight to his cock. The sensation of the cuffs
and the chain down his back made him want to be more fully bound.
The tributes were loaded into another cart and stood there and waited while
the army prepared to enter the city.
86
Lisa Henry
It took hours to reach the walls of the city. By that time masses of people had
turned out on the streets to see the conquering hero Brasius return. Brasius rode at
the head of his army, his cart of tributes behind him and his trusted generals
behind them. The rest of the massive army, Kynon thought, would be lucky to make
it inside the city walls by nightfall.
The city was amazing. Kynon had never seen so many houses, shops, and
public buildings. He saw painted facades, fountains and wells, marble columns and
steps, and roof tiles that gleamed in the sunlight. Segasa was vibrant, colorful, and
stunning. Strings of flowers and streamers overhung the wide main street that [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]