Isolde: Blood-Rose Guardians (a supplementary novella)

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Attack

The day of the attack on the king’s keep was a dark day in the beginning of a series of dark days. It was a late December day in 1065 and the sun barely seemed to shine at all. The ground was frosty and the sky darkened by heavy thunderclouds. The men who came were soldiers; an army seemed to walk right over us. Marcus their leader was unforgiving and sought to remove any evidence that we had existed at all. They had picked a time when our own men were away on distant shores. I knew not where this army had come from, but I could see the darkness in their eyes. They cared not for the sanctity of human life and I watched as everyone about me was slaughtered. Although I cared little for the king, my father, I still wept as he was forced to kneel before this Marcus and his head was sliced clean from his shoulders with a battle-axe. I did not scream out, but tears trickled down my sooty cheeks. I watched as the village and even my home were destroyed by fire. Only five of us survived – all women, all marched off to be the slaves of this Marcus’ senior soldiers.

I had wished that I had died at the village when I was stripped and then dressed in a fine gown by female attendants ready to be paraded and sold to his depraved men. I longed for my William to come and save me, but I was thankful too that he had been away when the attack occurred, for not one of the men was allowed to survive. We, the five women, were paraded about a circle, bound by ropes and led as though we were livestock. The men bid on us as though it were an auction, and I realised it was, I was being sold into sexual depravity by my conquerors. I caught the eye of the leader’s confident – a man named Tristan. I was given then to Tristan and no money was exchanged. Once again I had found myself traded to a man as though a chattel for his deeds in battle.

Tristan seemed as ruthless as Marcus. He took the band William had given me from my finger and departed our tent. I sat bound with rope to the central pole. At least he had had the decency to give me a chair to sit upon. When he returned he slipped the ring back onto my finger. I looked at him oddly, for that action made no sense to me at all.

“Kiss me,” he commanded.

I wanted to resist. I had no intention of ever kissing a man who was not my husband, but even as I resisted, I felt compelled to lean forward and press my lips to his. My heart screamed at me, but it was drowned by the overriding need that I felt to make Tristan happy.

“Disrobe…let me look upon you naked,” he commanded.

“I will not,” I declared but even as I said it, my hands lowered the garments I had been forced into toward the floor.

I stood before him naked; exposed and vulnerable. I trembled with fear for what he would have me do next.

“Get into the bed,” he directed as he sliced through the ropes that bound me to the pole.

I wanted to run. Now was my chance to escape, but rather than dashing toward the entrance of the tent, my feet carried me directly to the bed. I slipped in between the sheets, pulling them close to my skin as I watched him watching me.

“Stay there.”

He walked out and I was left alone, naked and unable to run. I wanted to. I so desperately wanted to escape this place and run back to my lover; my husband, but I was unable to move. It was as though my body was not my own. I closed my eyes and cried – at least I could still express my misery…for now.

When he returned he wore only a long nightshirt. He walked directly towards the bed and to me lying there naked, waiting to see what torture he would next inflict upon me. He pulled back the blankets and perused my naked form.

“Expose your sex to me,” he commanded.

“I will not, that is for my husband alone!”

I felt my legs separate and try as I might to keep my knees together there would be none of it. He moved between my open thighs and examined my exposed womanhood.

“You have not birthed a child?”

“No – I have not,” I stated with venom, hoping to hide the fact that it was probably on the cards though, for I was fairly certain that I was pregnant.

“You are not a virgin though?”

“No – I have been married one year and performed all wifely duties in that time.”

“Wifely duties?” He raised an eyebrow, “You did not choose your husband yourself?”

“No – but I have grown to love him and would prefer to remain loyal to him.”

“Well…that is impossible…you are mine now and you will perform the ‘wifely duties’ for me.”

“I will not!” I exclaimed, but even as I said it I reached for him and drew him toward my body.

I pulled his nightshirt from his head and wrapped my legs about his as he lowered himself against me. He kissed me and I returned the kiss, furious at myself but unable to stop it. His tongue plunged between my lips and my body responded with excitement. I felt my sex moisten and as he rubbed his erection against me, my loins invited him to enter even though my mind wanted to take a knife and plunge it between his ribs. He moved inside me until he was satisfied and then he rolled off me and lay beside me.

“How was that?” He asked.

“Disappointing,” I replied, meaning that he had been unable to make me climax as William always had.

“Well, that is better than feeling as though you were raped.”

I realised he was right. He had raped me! My brain was furious, but my body, unsated wanted more of his touch. My body wanted to engage in more sexual activity until it too was fulfilled of its needs. I immediately loathed this man that had bewitched me with some magic that left me helpless in his presence.

“Bastard!” I spat at him.

“You will find pleasure this time,” he said and repositioned himself above me.

He was ready to go again – so soon? William was a great lover, but even he could not have climaxed and then been ready to proceed again only moments later! He ran his hard cock against the swollen and slick lips of my sex – he was indeed ready to go again. My body welcomed him in as he penetrated my depths. He nibbled at my neck and then I felt another weird sensation, I didn’t recognise it for what it was at the time, but he had sank his fangs into my throat and as he thrust inside me, he injected me with chemicals that lifted me into a state of sexual euphoria. I desired the sexual climax and moved my body against his with gusto seeking that intoxicating release. I had not known he was feeding on me at the time. My hands explored his body and I moaned with the pleasures of the flesh as he pressed deeper and harder against and within me. I sank my fingernails into his back as I felt the contractions of orgasm begin. I pulled his buttocks hard against me forcing his throbbing manhood deeper within me until he filled the very core of me and then my eyes rolled backwards in my head as he tupped me into a frenzied climax.

I loathed myself immediately, and hated that I had found such sweet release with my captor. He licked my neck and moved off me. I wanted to cry but the last thing he said to me before he slept halted my tears.

“You will love me.”


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