Chapter 12

Isobel stared at the person standing in the shadows of the big doors, her body shaking with what she'd just experienced. She could feel Magnus still standing between her legs, his cock slowly falling out of her, letting loose a rush of fluids to bathe her thighs with the stickiness of their spending.

"Who are you?" Magnus growled again, pushing against Isobel to stand. He quickly replaced his codpiece, covering himself even as he left her lying there, naked and exposed.

"M-My n-name is Mathilde, Lord Magnus. I am Princess Isobel's maid. I come to ask you to spare her life and take mine instead."

Magnus laughed, his hand laying casually upon the princess's back, his fingers tapping out a rhythm of their own making. "I have no wish to take Isobel's life." He laughed again, causing those around him to laugh as well. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"You are Lord Magnus, the dark lord, the one who brings scourge to this land," Mathilde said simply, bowing and scraping as she came forward more. "Highness," she said in shock, finally having recognized the dark haired princess as she lay sprawled where Magnus had left her. "He's raped you."

"No, Mathilde, he's made me a woman," Isobel said. Lifting herself as far as she could before Magnus pushed her back. "I'm his woman."

"But ... but Prince Balor... ?"

"He can keep his insipid bride, I no longer care," she said, moaning as Magnus began to play between her thighs, touching her lightly.

"Ah, but there's the rub, lady," Magnus said slowly, withdrawing his fingers and rubbing the wetness onto her naked back, "I do. The Lady Luria was to be my bride and carry my child, conceived upon the night that she gave her virginity up to me. The son she carries now is my heir, mine, not Balor's and I must retrieve her so that she can marry me and stand at my side."

"I'm loathe to be the bearer of bad news, Magnus," Isobel said softly, turning to run her fingers over his cheek. "But when I left, Lady Luria had been struck down by one of your men, knifed, I believe, with a poisoned blade."

Magnus jerked away from Isobel's hands. "You lie," he said softly. "If it were so, you wouldn't have come here offering to help me reclaim her. You'd have stayed with him, wanting to comfort him when Luria died." He stepped further away from her as she held her arms out in supplication.

"No, Magnus, don't walk away. I left because I knew they would invest every effort possible to heal their princess. If the poisoned knife didn't take her from them, I had to have another way. But can't you see it's all so unnecessary now. I was a virgin. I could be carrying your son. Would you throw away that chance?"

Magnus backed away even as she came forward, her naked body lovely as she offered it to him even bruised as it was from his hands. "You don't carry the mark, you're not the Descendant. Only the Descendant bears the mark and has the power. You're nothing but a whore now." His lips curled in cruel derision and he raised one hand, two of his guards coming forward eagerly. "Take her, put her in the west tower along with her maid."

The guards grabbed her arms, one of them squeezing her breast to the accompaniment of Isobel's harsh screech.

"Don't hurt her, or touch her. She might be more valuable than we think," Magnus called, unmoved by Isobel's tears as she tried to call to him. "Take her out of here." He slumped down into his chair, his expression one of abject boredom. Pursing his lips, he blew out a long breath before looking around the room for another toy to play with.

"You," he called to a small blonde wench. She turned quickly, her eyes growing wide as she saw the dark lord's eyes upon her.

"Yes, sire, what might I do for you?"

"Do you know how to suck a cock?" he asked sighing as she bent between his knees and began to show him that she did.

She seemed almost golden on the back of the huge black stallion. Tristan's armor gleamed with silver lights while the gold of her hair seemed like a halo of fire around her head. She wore black, her silver sword belt wrapped around her tiny waist. A dagger, the same that had almost taken her life, lay in a sheath tucked into her sword belt. She had plans for that dagger, big plans.

"Are you sure you feel up to this?" Balor asked for the fourth time since she'd mounted.

"Yes," she said in exasperation. "Will you stop asking? My mother has healed my wounds and I am fit and fine."

"And pregnant," Martane said for the first time, knowing that adding those two words would really start the fight. He wasn't sure that such was the truth, he could only hope that the words spoken to him in confidence by A'Potnia was true.

"What?" Balor shouted. He came to her side, grabbing her about the waist and dragging her down and into his arms. "You carry a child and you still think to ride by my side into battle."

"A child?" she shouted back, looking up into his face. "I carry your child, conceived in love. Can you not believe that?"

"I do, but I know Magnus won't. He'll claim the child is his since he had you first."

"But..." Luria glanced around, seeing all the people who stood and listened to their fight with eager ears. She grabbed Balor's hand and pulled him off to the side. "He never ... inside of me," she whispered.

"He never what ... inside of you?" Balor asked her looking confused.

"Gods!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "Magnus never spent himself inside of me."

"Wait, you're saying that Magnus took your virginity but he never came?"

"No, he came, but he came in my mouth. I might not know a lot about the birthing process but I do know you can't get pregnant that way."

"So this baby," Balor grinned widely, his hand going to her still flat stomach, "this baby is definitely mine?"

"I should be angry with you for even having to ask that question," Luria sighed. "But right now, I just want this whole thing over with. Can we go? There are only a few hours until dawn and I don't wish to have to do this some other night."

"I'm sorry, Luria," Balor said softly, bending his head to kiss her lips. "You carry the heir to the throne of the Seventh Kingdom, I cannot, in good faith, let you put his life in danger."

Luria stomped her foot, making sure her heel ground down upon his toes. He shouted at the pain but held her still in his arms. "This prophesy is about me. I need to be there when Magnus is brought down, if not to do it myself then to see that it is done. I love you, Balor, with all of my heart, but you cannot deny me this. It is my right."

"What about my right to protect my wife and the mother of my child?" Balor stared down at her, ignoring the ache in his toes. "You cannot expect me to be happy that you feel you have to do this?"

"No, happiness is not an emotion that either of us has right now. But when Magnus no longer is a threat, when we can go out into the night and walk the fields without worry, then there will be happiness a plenty. For now, my love, we have a duty and it will take both of us to do it. I do not fear Magnus, for I know you will be at my side protecting me and our child."

"I cannot talk you out of this?" he asked softly.

She raised her hand to his cheek, smiling up into his eyes. "No, you cannot."

He sighed, bending to steal a kiss from her soft pink lips. "You know I love you more than my own life."

"And I you," she said, touching her hand to his chest over his heart. "Every beat of this heart is as precious to me as the one that resides here," she touched her own stomach. "We will win the day because we have no other hope, Balor. You must believe that."

"I believe in you." He lifted her gently and took her back to place her on Tristan's back once more. Calling for his own horse, he heard Graeme come to his side. "My friend, you have stood by my side in battle more than once but I cannot ask you to risk you life now. We will either strike true and win the day or we shall all become martyrs for Magnus's cause. I won't ask you to be part of this."

"I never thought you'd have to ask. My place is next to you and Luria, it has been since the first." He bowed his head, his long hair falling forward. "Just know that I will protect her with my life."

"I owe you a debt I'll never be able to repay," Balor said. Turning his horse in a tight circle, he faced his father. "We are off," he said, his voice loud and carrying. "For the seven kingdoms!"

His horse reared, the front hooves shining in the light of the torches as he fought to control it then they were galloping away.

Isobel was furious. She paced the floor of the small room they'd been given. Compared to the dungeons he'd put her in before, they were living in luxury now. A large bed sat in the center of the room, two wardrobes stood open on one wall, a treasure trove of clothing flowing from them. A dressing table and two small chaises stood along the other wall as well as a small writing desk and a gilt edged chair.

"Why did you come here?" she shouted at her maid, slapping the small woman hard along the back of her head. "Why did you have to ruin everything?"

"But, Princess, I came because I thought he would hurt you."

"He did," Isobel sighed, slumping down on one of the chaises. "It was lovely. I've never felt anything like that in all my years."

"Princess, we need to get you dressed. Balor and his armies could be here any moment. You don't want them to find you like that."

"Like what?" Isobel asked, standing and stretching. Her body was covered with bruises, bite marks and red, welted hand prints. She walked to the window, staring outside, sighing when all she could see was the reflection of herself in the glass. Her eyes wandered down her body. She looked ... used as if he hadn't been able to stop himself. She liked the look, it made her feel desired, needed, wanted. Balor had never made her feel even a third of the things that Magnus had.

"I look like I've been fucked," she mused out loud, turning slightly so that she could see the handprint on her bottom. Her hands cupped her breasts, squeezing them the same way Magnus had, watching as her nipples grew hard. "Mm," she moaned, "yes, I like how I look."

"Isobel," Mathilde screeched, "You shouldn't talk like that or use those kinds of words. A lady..."

"I am no longer a lady," Isobel sneered, turning to stare at the small woman who'd cared for her most of her life. "I am now Magnus's whore. You heard him." She walked slowly to the bed, laying back on top of the coverlet and spreading her thighs. "He's had me, he's taken my virtue and turned me into this and I like it."