Authors: Bertrice Small
“The mothers of these children were kept alive only until the children were weaned from their breasts. Then they were slaughtered, and buried deep in the Forest. The children were raised by the wives of their fathers, and only learned the truth when they came to manhood and needed to reproduce themselves. It has been a fearsome secret to keep, but kept it they have. No one knows. They import women as household slaves, but they are actually used for breeding purposes.”
“That is why Durga didn’t want little Noss!” Lara exclaimed. “He asked her if she had linked with the moon yet, and she said no. It was then he refused to have her, making such a great fuss, and Truda in her effort to please him exposed my existence to the Forest Lords.”
Og nodded. “Truda is growing a big belly,” he told Lara. “I overhear much, for few pay a great deal of attention to me,” he chuckled. “Now I shall tell you something else I overheard. I know the reason they insisted on purchasing you, Lara. They believe if they can get children on a faerie, they can expunge the curse Maeve put on them.”
“But I am only a halfling, and besides, there is no way I could ameliorate a curse placed on them by a faerie queen. I know nothing of magic. My faerie mother deserted my father and me when I was only a few months old. I am said to look just like her, but I know nothing of her world, Og.”
“She thought enough of you to give you a crystal guardian,” the giant noted, looking down at his young companion. “Let me tell you something of her world. As the daughter of a faerie woman, you have all her powers, although you have not known it. You are not with child yet, are you? Yet it is said that Enda comes to your bed almost every night. I know why you are not with child—you do not want his child, and a faerie woman never gives children to those she does not love.”
“They do not know this, do they?” Lara said.
“Nay, they don’t. There is much they do not know. My kind served the Forest Lords for as long as memory allows, yet they slew my people. When they could not find the faeries of the Forest they sent the giants to look for them. When we could not find them, they set about killing us, for we knew their secret and they would not have it revealed.
“I was in my mother’s belly at that time. Her name was Oona, and she managed to flee into the deepest part of the Forest where she bore me. We lived in a cave and saw no one but the beasts. It was there I met Ethne. She is not a faerie, but a faerie spirit. It was she who told me what my mother did not—that all giant memory is passed on to their unborn children in the womb. That should I ever fall into the hands of the Forest Lords I was to pretend to be innocent of all that had passed before my birth. And when I was four years of age they found us. They killed her, but me they spared for before she died she told them I had been born but four years prior.
“I was brought back here and raised in Durga’s hall, although in those days it was his grandfather’s hall. When I became too large to live in the hall I was given the bathhouse to attend, and to live in. I am small for my kind, they have told me.”
“Poor Og,” Lara said, taking his huge hand in her own two, and giving it a little squeeze. “What a terrible life it has been for you, having to pretend ignorance, and yet knowing so much. I wish there were a way in which I could help you.”
“It is I who must help you,” the giant replied. “Winter is coming, and if you are not with child by winter’s end, Durga will wonder why.”
“Perhaps he will sell me into another province? They do not know I am privy to their secret. Certainly they will want to recoup their losses as best they can,” Lara said.
“Durga, but that he is considered the eldest of his clan, would be sweeping out horse stalls,” Og said. “His family has always ruled the Forest. It is his right, but he is a stupid man. If you fail him he will be angry, and if he becomes angry he is just as apt to slay you as his grandfather’s men did that poor faerie woman seventy-five years ago.”
“But not yet,” Lara said.
“No, not yet,” Og agreed.
“I must bathe quickly now,” Lara told him. “They will wonder why I have been gone so long. Go now, and we will speak again.”
The giant nodded, and left her.
She washed herself quickly, then hurried back to the hall. Truda was seated by the fire, and seeing Lara beckoned her over. There was no way to avoid the woman and so Lara joined her, holding out her hands to warm them. Truda’s belly was very obvious, and her pride in her condition was irritating.
“Where have you been?” she demanded of Lara.
“It is not your place to question me,” Lara told her, “but you surely know I go to bathe each day at this time.”
“You were gone longer than you have been in the past,” Truda said.
“The water was very hot, and I am chilled to the bone these days. I remained to soak, and it felt wonderful. It is almost time for the Winterfest,” Lara replied. “The City was not as cold as it is here. Do you not feel it?”
“I feel nothing but the kicking of my son in my belly,” Truda responded proudly. “My lord Durga is a vigorous lover, and I am a fertile field for his potent seed. You will see soon enough, as his brother does not seem to plow as fine a furrow with you. My lord Durga says he will be visiting you soon for shortly I shall be unable to accommodate his lusty nature.” She smirked at Lara.
“It shall be as the Celestial Actuary ordains,” Lara said sweetly. “If I am meant to give one of these Forest Lords a child, I will. But will they not favor my offspring, with its faerie blood, to that of a slave woman?”
“You are a slave, too!” Truda said angrily, her hands going to her belly.
“But I am special, being half faerie,” Lara taunted her wickedly. And then she turned, and went down the dim corridor to the sanctuary of her rooms. Stepping inside, she was shocked to find Durga there awaiting her. Her heart began to beat nervously. “My lord,” she greeted him.
He arose from the chair by the hearth where he had been sitting. “You smell sweet,” he said. “Are you just come from your bath, Lara?”
“Yes, my lord,” she replied. Her hands by her side were balled into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.
He took a step toward her, and Lara instinctively backed away. He smiled wolfishly, and reached out for her before she might evade him again. Drawing her against his chest he said, “I desire you, faerie girl. I am a man of vast appetites, and the big-bellied bitch in the hall can no longer be mounted lest I endanger my son. You belong to me as well as to Enda, and he is gone for the next few days on a hunting trip. While he is gone you will open your legs for me.”
“Does my lord Enda know you do this?” Lara asked him.
Durga smiled, but it was a cold smile. The fingers of one large hand dug into her scalp, and he yanked her head back. “Yes!” he said. “And do not ever dare to question my actions, faerie girl. I am master in this hall, and you are my slave.” He pushed her against the door to her bedchamber. His hands reached down, sliding beneath her gown to cup her bottom. He lifted her up, commanding her, “Put your arms about my neck, and your legs about my waist, Lara,” and when she obeyed, afraid to do otherwise, he released his grip on her a moment, lifting his tunic up to release his manroot, which he then pushed into her with a smooth, hard thrust. “Now, faerie girl,” he said, his hands cupping her buttocks once more, “you are going to be well used, and thoroughly seeded by the hour of the evening meal.”
Lara was in shock. Enda had always been gentle and thoughtful with her. She was even learning to gain great pleasure in their passion. Durga, however, was a hard man, and a cruel lover. He ground into her brutally, making her whimper with each thrust of his loins. She thought of the faerie woman Og had told her about today, and realized that this is how the poor creature must have felt as she was violated. Her head slammed against the bedchamber door as he pushed into her again and again. And then it was over. With a roar he released his seed into her and lowered her to the floor. Lara’s legs buckled, and she would have fallen but Durga caught her up in his arms and, kicking the door open, brought her into her chamber, and laid her on the bed.
“I’ll get you some wine, faerie girl, and then we will begin again,” he told her, going back out into the day room. When he returned, Lara had managed to seat herself on the edge of the bed. He handed her the wine. “Drink it all down, and then get out of your gown, Lara. I don’t want you damaging your clothing for you have little enough.”
She swallowed the wine almost eagerly, relishing the fact that it burned her throat as it meant she could still feel something. He took the goblet from her when it was gone, and she stood up, disrobing slowly, her fingers all thumbs as she undid her laces. She laid her gown aside, and pulled off her chemise.
“On your back now, faerie girl,” he ordered her, and as she lay upon her bed she saw that Durga had also disrobed, and was now quite naked. She trembled, to her surprise. It was unlike her to be fearful of these men, but the tale Og had imparted to her earlier made her realize how dangerous the Forest Lords really were.
He was a big man, his hairy arms and legs like the thick tree trunks in his Forest. His chest was massive and broad and covered in wiry dark curls as was the area surrounding his manroot. He climbed into the bed and pulled her up into his arms. His fingers tugged the pins from her long gilt-colored hair. “It’s like thistledown, faerie girl,” he complimented her. Then his hand patted her mons. “It matches the pretty curls you have grown back since you came to us.” A finger pushed between her nether lips to find her jewel. He began to play with it gently. “You should have begun a child with my brother by now, Lara. Perhaps his seed is not as potent as mine. Perhaps he weakens it going between two women at night. My seed is fertile. I will plant your hidden garden fully and well in the next few days. You will ripen with my child, faerie girl.”
“I am not some animal to be bred!” Lara cried out, finally finding her voice.
“That’s exactly what you are, my pretty faerie girl. You are a sweet beast to be bred.” He pushed two fingers into her, moving them vigorously, then withdrew them. “Almost ready,” he noted. “Has Enda taught you to play with his manroot yet? I expect not. He gets little joy out of it, but I enjoy it. Take it in your hand, Lara. Fondle it gently. Tickle the seed sacs beneath it. They are filled with life!”
She took him in her hand, afraid to disobey him. He made a sound halfway between a growl and a purr, praising her skill and encouraging her onward. Her fingers moved beneath his manroot to tickle the seed sacs. They were almost icy to her touch. She fondled them in her palm, restraining her urge to squeeze them so hard they would pop.
“That’s it, girl,” he said approvingly. His hands fondled her young breasts, squeezing them tenderly, pinching the nipples sharply so that she squealed aloud. He laughed saying, “Such pretty little apples, faerie girl. Now, on your back!” And he dumped her from his lap onto the mattress. “Put your hands above your head now.” His dark head lowered, and he kissed her breasts and her belly, his bushy black beard scratching her delicate skin. Then without another word he was atop and into her, thrusting and withdrawing as he panted with his exertions.
Lara closed her eyes.
A sweet beast to be bred.
She would not be bred, for she wanted no child of this man, or his brother. But neither her beauty nor her faerie blood would save her from their revenge if they chose to kill her. She had to get away from the Forest Lords before they grew suspicious of her. But how? And where could she go that she would not be branded an escaped slave? She shuddered, and Durga took it for passion rising in her and redoubled his efforts on her body until finally he cried out loudly, satisfied for the interim.
“By the old Forest gods, faerie girl, you know how to give a man pleasure,” he told her approvingly. Then he arose from the bed. “I’ll send some supper for you, but rest, for tonight I will share your bed until the dawn. This brief interlude has but whetted my appetite for your sweet faerie flesh.” He pulled on his clothing again, and left her.
For the first time since she had left her family, Lara cried. The human side of her was showing itself at last, after months in which her faerie blood had allowed her to be as hard as nails. It had aided in her survival, but with Og’s tale today she was only too aware of her precarious position within the realm of the Forest Lords until she produced the desired child. She needed to speak with Og, but she dared not leave the hall again today. And the night loomed long and dark ahead. She rose from her bed and washed herself clean of his juices, but his scent still clung to her body. The tears kept coming until finally she fell into a fitful sleep.
It had been early afternoon when she dozed off, but the sun had been already setting, for winter was upon them. Lara awoke in darkness but for the scrap of flame in the bedchamber hearth. She scrambled up and fed the fire until it was blazing again, then dressed, went into the dayroom and repaired the fire there. A tray had been set on her table, and as the food was hot she guessed that the footstep of the servant delivering it had awakened her. Everything smelled delicious, and she found she was hungry. She ate everything on the tray, and then began to drink from the carafe of sweet wine. She was going to need it to sustain her courage in the hours ahead. When Durga finally entered the room, she was able to muster up a small smile, which pleased him greatly. But the night was a long one.
In midmorning when Lara was finally able to rouse herself from her bed, she dressed quickly and fled the hall for the bathhouse.