A Toast to Starry Nights (30 page)

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Authors: Mandi Rei Serra

BOOK: A Toast to Starry Nights
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When I regained consciousness, the
reality of my situation sank into my mind. My hands are bound and I'm thrown
over the lap of a man on horseback. My face hurt, surely bruised badly by now.

If I felt any other emotion than fright,
it would be terror. The sensations escalated when we reached my uncle's house.
Hauled off the horse, carried over a burly man's shoulder like a sack of
cabbages into the house.

Landross's men filled the hall of what
was once my home. Mara and I stood near the hearth, our hands bound behind our
backs with rough hempen rope. Our captors bound it tight so that it bit into
our wrists.

Smelly men surrounded us. Stinking of
sweaty unwashed bodies and horse, the stench wafting from them only added to my
need to weep. A thousand times over, my heart broke thinking that it was all
for naught. We left early to avoid such a confrontation, but how were we to
know Landross's garrison took a ship to Wexford to box us in? I wanted to save
my sisters. I failed miserably. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Moire
upon the ground, her neck twisted at an odd angle as it pressed against a
boulder splattered with gore. Bride, her vacant stare with blood trickling from
the corners of her mouth was the only indication that her mount fell upon her,
crushing her beneath its weight.

Our escape meant nothing.

Mara tilted her head towards mine and
whispered, “I have wolfbane in my room. We can kill the lot of 'em if we can
poison their beer.”

How would we get to her room? Its
unlikely a roomful of men would allow us free reign of the house.

A man of middling height and muscular
build made his way to Mara and I, parting through the sea of men. His nut brown
hair shone with golden lights cast off the candles as he neared. He spoke, his
voice harsh to my ears. “Who are you two?”

Mara answered him, chin high and voice
proud. “I am Mara Ni MacGhuolgal, niece to the Bishop of Ferns. This is my
cousin, Ona Ni Brahain, ward of the Bishop.”

The man reached out with both hands to
raise Mara's and mine gaze to his. Black eyes coldly looked at us, calculating
our worth it seemed. “Who were the two girls found in the forest?”

My throat clenched as I answered. “My
sisters.”

I knew who this man was.

This was the Demon Lord of Eskerfell,
Agent of the King.

“And the old man in the road? Was that
the Bishop my men gutted with pikes?”

I choked a sob back at the thought that
the gentle man who raised me, gutted like a pig. What happened to Padraic? Did
he escape? Or did he die as well?

“Yes, that was our Uncle.” Mara took a
step towards Landross and spat the words out. Her spittle landed on his cheek.

“Look boys, a hellcat!” Landross's smile
widened as he used a handkerchief pulled from his lace-embellish cuff to wipe
away Mara's hate. “You are a beauty, too. Cleaned up, you'd make even Good King
Hal randy as a goat.” He slid his hand over Mara's bosom and squeezed. “A nice
handful you have there, my pretty.”

“Your pig of a King can tup a sheep,
he'd get better sport.” Mara snarled then spat at Landross's feet.

He leaned in and caressed her cheek with
one hand while the other tore her bodice away to reveal her breasts to all. My
heart froze in my throat and I strove not to show the terror I felt. “I know
how to tame hellcats. I know how to make them purr. You will purr for me.”

My fear for Mara's safety increased as
Landross continued. “You will serve me any way I please. I will not kill you if
you fail to do so. No, my beauty, I will devise a hundred perverse ways to make
you wish for death.” Landross pulled his knife from the sheath on his belt. The
steel blade pressed into the tip of Mara's nipple and she winced. He removed
the knife and slid it down her belly to cut away her skirts. Hardly a moment
passed before she stood nearly naked in tattered rags before all the men in the
hall. The only thing that marred her skin was the tiny rivulet of blood that
slid down her breast.

“Unbind her hands and put her on the
table.” So cold and callus his words which echoed off the stone walls.

The Demon Lord's men did as ordered.
Mara said nothing, but kept her head high as the men tore remaining strips of
fabric from her body. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of begging them
to stop. Every abuse they lay upon her will be remembered and returned tenfold
given the chance, if I know my cousin. They forced her down upon the table
while four brutish men pinned her limbs to the wood.

“Spread her.” Two men pulled her legs
apart, grinning at each other as though they were proud of their actions.
Landross smiled as she struggled against those pinning her. “You look like you
need a good fuck, my pretty. Tell me, are you a virgin? Or have you tumbled
some bogtrotters in the woods?” He slid his hand up her leg, digging in his
fingers to leave red scratches upon her white flesh.

“I am a respectable widow, you bastard.”

“Such a shame, my pretty. I would have
liked to have claimed your maidenhead myself.” Landross still had his knife in
hand. He turned it about and lovingly wrapped the blade in the same
handkerchief he used to wipe Mara's spit from his face. Once wrapped, he used
the blade as an improvised handle. With a cold smile, he spread her nethers
wide and thrust the hilt of his knife into Mara. Her eyes widened before she
squeezed them shut. Mara stopped struggling as he thrust the knife back and
forth inside her. She never whimpered, but a tear streaked down the side of her
face.

“Ah, my pretty... it's been a long while
since you've been fucked. You like that, don't you? You like something between
you legs, fucking you hard. Let this be a lesson to you, my pretty. I will be
obeyed and respected. Next time you speak in a less genteel manner, I will give
you to my men.... and they will take you to the kennels to be mounted by hounds
while they make bets and swill beer.”

Men jostled me as they watched their
leader abuse my cousin with his knife's hilt. Random hands grabbed my breasts
and behind as my captors became excited at Mara's abuse. I didn't care that
their hands were on me. I felt on the brink of two separate emotions, together
a potion of madness. My heart and mind felt numb, that this all is unreal. That
I will wake up from this nightmare come morning light. But beyond that, most
intensely I felt sick to my stomach in a manner I never experienced before. If
this was the beginning of our imprisonment, would would be in store for me? I
wanted to cry that my happiest thought is that at least my two sweet sisters
were spared this horror.

Landross's men cheered him on as he
stood over Mara's naked body, one hand crushing her breast while the other
pumped away between her thighs. How he could smile as he committed rape was
beyond me. He stopped his breast-mauling and used his free hand to untie his
breeches, releasing his swollen member. Landross removed the knife from Mara
and unwrapped the improvised handle so he could put the blade in its sheathe.

“Let her up.” The men released Mara.
Weals of tears broke through the dirt and dust smudged on her face. Landross
grabbed a fist full of her hair and held tight while he forced Mara to her
knees and thrust between her lips. “Bite me and I'll remove every tooth from
your mouth and then continue where we left off.”

The Demon Lord of Eskerfell used Mara's
mouth a few moments before spurting over her face in a gesture of dominance.
Once more he slid into her mouth and barked at Mara to lick him clean. She did
as told.

Landross addressed a lanky young soldier
next to Mara, nodding in her direction as he spoke. “Take her to the kitchens
and see her bathed. She will warm my bed tonight.”

The soldier pulled her up to a standing
position and led her out of the hall. I could see a small blood trail down her
inner thigh. That bastard must have nicked her with his knife blade during his
public abuse. I hated him. If I could get my hands on Mara's wolfbane, I would
gladly poison him for what he just did to my sweet cousin. I would poison he,
his men and then invite ravens to feast upon the corpses, then eagles to feed
upon the ravens.

I swallowed hard at the knowledge that
now with Mara out of the room, his attention fell on me. While Landross laced
his breeches up again, he spoke. “Why were you carrying coinage and jewels?
Steal them from the Church as you fled like rats?”

“That was the dowry for my younger
sisters and myself.” No, I thought. No, I am not the thief in this room.

“Bogtrotters with coins and pearls? You
must have stolen it from the Bishop.”

“Nay! Tis as I said. The jewels were my
mothers, and the coins are my dowry and that of my sisters before they died.”

“A likely story.” His hand rested on the
hilt of his knife which I eyed with worry. It angered me fiercely how he hurt
Mara. “I have plans for you... my men have sailed from Dublin to Wexford and
have marched non-stop to keep you bog rats from fleeing. They long for
entertainment of the highest sort. We made no stops at bawdy houses... so my
men are anxious for womanly comfort.”

A lump grew in my throat, seeming to
keep my heart from bursting forth as the meaning of his words sank into my
ears. Was he going to give me to his men as a camp whore? To be raped unto
death, undoubtedly. How my eyes were dry this moment I will never know, for I
wanted to crawl into a corner, curl up and wither away into nothingness.

I have no Uncle. No sisters. No husband.
My cousin, would she survive the night? Could we seize an opportunity and escape?
Where would we go?

Landross continued, his voice seeming to
smirk with glee at the idea stewing between his ears. Loudly, he called to
another one of his soldiers. “Lynton, bring the priest forth for his
punishment.”

Priest? They were going to bring Uncle
Sean's body to the hall? I choked back the urge to vomit.

A scuffling made its way towards us,
three soldiers in leathers dragging a stooped, cloaked man behind them. The
poor sot must have been on the road from Wexford and got caught as Landross rode
north towards us.

“Tell me, priest, did you serve the
Bishop of Ferns, traitor to the English Crown?”

A raspy voice flowed from the hooded
figure. “Aye, it was my honor to serve the Bishop, may God grant him peace. He
was no traitor to the English Crown. We are in Ireland where England does not
rule.”

“Your impudent words will be your
downfall, priest. For your papist ways you are to be punished in accordance
with the laws of our king, Henry the Eighth of that name.” With a smile over to
me and a nod to one of his lackeys, Landross ordered them to strip the priest
of his garb. Two of the guards tore and cut away material, revealing a naked
and heavily bruised body. The face, smashed. Broken nose, black and swollen
eyes and blood dried around his lips. The man was a mess.

Landross walked behind me and before I
knew it, used his knife to cut the gown and shift from my body. Cold metal slid
against my skin and I shivered. Brisk air hit me all over. Felt as though I had
just leaped into an icy stream but with a hundred eyes on my nakedness to warm
me.

“As a man of God, you will do what you
can to protect the innocent, will you not?” Landross bent over so he could look
the priest in the eyes.

“Aye.” The sound of resignation sat
heavy in the priest's voice.

“They you will have to fuck her to save
her life.” Landross looked at me and smiled. “And she will have to like it to
save yours.”

Sweet Jesu, save me from this madman.
Lord God, send your angels to strike down this monster.

Oh, it could be worse, I could be given
to his soldiers... but who is to say that fate does not already await me? To be
raped publicly and by a holy man forced to do such a thing to save my life, he
in effect raped as well, body and soul... tears slid down my face at the horror
of it all.

“What is this? Tears already? We haven't
even begun, darlin'.”

I gulped back my anguish and spoke
softly. “You make a horrid representative for your king.” No spittle flecked
from my lips, but oh, how I could understand Mara's decision to not hold back
her anger.

Landross leaned in and whispered, “I am
not here to make friends. I am here to conquer. And sometimes people need a
reminder of who is in charge. Tales of this night will burn through the
countryside like wildfire. All will tremble at the sound of my name, and that
of the King. Let this serve to keep your kind from raising up against the might
of England.” Louder, he said, “Bring the priest!”

The Demon Lord of Eskerfell strode back
to the table that witnessed Mara's debasement, and with a flick of his fingers,
ordered his men to haul me forth. Hands lifted me up and put me on the table.
Polished wood was warm beneath my backside. Those same hands lingered in places
I wish they didn't, groping and caressing things that were not theirs to touch.
The naked priest fell to his knees when pushed by a guard. My heart broke for
him, to be trapped in the same circumstances as I found myself.

“Spread her wide.”

Roughly I was pushed down onto the table
and spread eagle. I closed my eyes. Didn't want to see the hoard of men leering
at me. Landross's voice slithered in my ear. “If you fail to enjoy the priest's
attentions, maybe you will enjoy my garrison. I doubt they will be as gentle as
yonder priest. Now open your eyes.... ah, green. Your cousin is prettier but
you have bigger titties.” His rough hand pinched at my nipple and twisted hard.
“Ah, responsive, too. Maybe you will join your cousin in my bed tonight. You
can pretend to be sisters.”

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