Telion lay upon his pelt, propped up by one elbow, drinking from the skin Ceralt had given him, not looking up at me till I halted before him. The back of his hand wiped his mouth as his eyes took me in, a slowly growing gleam belying his earlier words. The sight of my body pleased him, a thing which did not please me, yet I did no more than fold my arms across my breasts and attempt to quiet my anger.
“Kneel,” he said abruptly, pointing to the floor before him as he rid himself of the drinking skin. There was little I might do save obey him, and when I was on my knees before him, his hand came to my face.
“Do you still refuse to speak?” he asked, his eyes searching my face. “You are truly a tempting morsel, wench, and there is no need for me to resist the temptation.”
When no more than silence greeted his words, his hand left my face so that it might touch my body. I sought to ignore the caressing of my breasts and thighs, yet in no more than a handful of reckid, I writhed about upon my knees before him, unable to escape the touch of his fingers, unable to resist the demands of his desire. I bent over his probing hand with a sob, shamed beyond endurance, and he grasped my arms and drew me to the lenga pelt beside him.
“So Ceralt has rechanneled your desires as I have done with Larid,” he murmured, his hand again at my body. I moaned and threw myself about in his arms, and his laughter was stinging for all of its softness. “Such a thing is not easily done, yet the results are well worth it. I shall have some use from you, and then we will find the source of your disturbance.”
In no more than a moment he had entered me, and his use was as strong and demanding as Ceralt’s. I had long since abandoned all attempts at resisting him, for the affliction which was upon me would not be denied. I cried out again and again with the delights his use afforded me, and only when I had attained release and lay panting in his arms did the shame return to me. His manhood retained possession of my body, and I knew he would use me again and again till the smell of his satisfaction was too heavy to escape, too thick to be easily wiped from me. I lay bare beneath him, my sweat and his covering my body, yet he had retained his covering so that my degradation might be more complete. I recalled the time of his use in the Hosta home tents, recalling as well that the presence of his covering had afforded him little comfort. He alone had felt degradation then, yet the memory did not wipe out his presence from above me, nor the slow, throbbing reawakening of his desire within me. He held me possessively in the strength of his arms, and chuckled as my body tightened about his presence.
“So much lovely heat,” he observed in amusement, touching his lips to my hair. “And I had thought Larid quick to respond and ever eager. I will see you well attended to, little hanchuck, but I will first know what has taken the spirit from you. When not in the throes of desire, you seem as lifeless as Sigurr’s Peak itself. ”
His eyes looked down upon me, refusing to be ignored, and his body again making me his slave. I threw my head about in misery, knowing my shame would be increased were he to force me to speak, yet his purpose would not be denied.
“Speak to me!” he demanded, thrusting hard enough to draw a gasp from me. “I will know what thoughts twist about in that black-haired, female head of yours! Why does it seem that you have not slept in feyd? Why does your palm bleed as though your fist has been too tightly clenched? Why do you obey Ceralt with not even a murmur? Why does it seem as though you long for a thing which has been placed beyond your reach? Why?”
The pounding of his questions and his body were quickly growing beyond my control to resist. I sobbed as he used me, clutching his arms as I sought to hold the words within, yet I knew that the words would flow forth as rapidly as Telion claimed his slave-due. His light eyes shone in the firelight, hardness and determination clear even in the dimness of the room, and suddenly it came to me how the unattainable might be attained. Telion, a male, broad and powerful in his strength, had once been sthuvad to Hosta. Were his memories as bitter as Ceralt’s, the final freedom would surely be mine. I moaned as his manhood went clear to the center of my inner being, and raised my back a handspan from the lenga pelt.
“Telion, no more!” I cried, clinging to his arms. “Do not force me to speak!”
“You will do as I command,” he returned, thrusting me flat to the pelts again. “I will be obeyed by the wench I use.”
“Mida take you!” I screamed, struggling in fury. “I ask only to see the fey when you again lie tied in a use tent! I will spit upon you then, and order the drug fed to you without stop!”
“Do not speak so,” he growled, his grip tightening upon me as his eyes went strangely cold. His voice was very soft, yet trembled in an unexpected way.
“It was I who first named you sthuvad,” I gloated, then laughed in unabandoned delight. “Had I known how pleasing you would be to my warriors, I would have called for the Hitta and Helda as well! When next you taste of the sthuvad drug, I shall not fail to assure their presence!”
“Be silent!” he whispered, a rage growing to fill his mind and choke him. His face twisted from its familiar lines, near insanity outlining over-bright eyes, and it seemed as though I were held in bands of metal. My fingernails dug deeper into those bands of metal, and I laughed again, more mockingly than before.
“Yes, it was I who decreed your use by warriors!” I pursued relentlessly. “It was by my word alone that you were thonged to stakes and made to give pleasure, forced to serve your betters! And I shall see it so again, Mida take me if I do not!”
“Never!” he rasped, the trembling taking all of his body, the madness bright in his eyes. “Never will I be forced to feel such shame again! Never will I forget the shame of the first time! And you! You were indeed the one who caused it!”
His arms left me as his hands went to my throat, the madness completely in possession of him. Though I truly wished for the surcease of everlasting darkness, I could not help but claw at his hands as they tightened about my throat. His fingers pressed against the flesh of my neck, and his voice came strange to my ears.
“You, the savage female who was the source of my debasement,” he muttered, his fingers tightening more and more. “You, the she who laughed at my captivity and use, the she who sneeringly refused me her body when the thought of her use was all that kept me from screaming out the agony of body and soul! You laughed then and you laugh now, yet I shall take the laughter from you forever!”
A roaring had filled my ears, and his face swam about in the rippling of my vision. I scratched feebly at his choking hands, all strength having left me, yet even had I been possessed of all my strength, I could not have loosened his metal-thewed grip from my throat. Even in airless, choking pain, I knew my victory, and I exulted as the darkness rose up to swirl me in its midst.