Sold to Serve by Kyra Alessy

Bought to Break (Sneak Preview)

Lana

‘I know you’re here.You’re always in here. I know you’re hiding from me. When I find you, do you know what I’m going to do to you?’

Lana gritted her teeth as a bit of straw brushed against her nose. She pinched it shut, willing herself not to sneeze. She was crouched in a small hollow space amongst the hay bales. He couldn’t see her, but she couldn’t see him either. A horse snorted and stomped and the others followed suit. They didn’t like him here.

She heard him swear. He was very close. He’d hear the smallest sound from her, no doubt about that. If he found her now … she shuddered … losing her only hiding place would be the least of her worries. She held her breath, praying to the gods for deliverance, and, finally, she heard the door bang closed as he left.

Lana breathed out slowly and extricated herself from her hiding place. The stable was quiet and the horses calmed as soon as she appeared. She began her usual duties; feeding the mares and rubbing them down after their long days. Some she’d known since she came here. They worked the fields during the day and came in at night. Others belonged to travellers who were passing through. All were doted on, though, whether she knew them or not. Lana loved horses; always had, even as a child. She remembered that her mother had had high hopes for her, but they had never come to fruition. After an illness had ravaged her dear mama’s body for three long weeks, she’d finally succumbed in her sleep. Lana had been twelve and her stepfather had sold her to Dirk, the stablemaster, long before the pyre was cold. He hadn’t wanted Lana underfoot. Her mother’s property was the most valuable in the area, more so without a child to feed and clothe.

It had been six long years since that day. Dirk wasn’t a bad fellow really. He was fair when it counted and he didn’t hate her, just drank too much. His son, Ather, was the real problem.

Lana felt her ribs, still bruised from the last time Ather had found her. They hurt, but the black masses had turned to light purple and yellow now. New ones would take their place sooner or later. Of that she had no doubt. He liked to beat her for imaginary wrongdoings, and lately he’d been looking at her differently, as if he’d suddenly noticed she was no longer a child.

She hid her body under shapeless rags as much as she could, but he’d noticed all the same. And he wasn’t the only one. The men in the tavern leered and grabbed at her whenever Dirk sent her to get him a flagon. She hated it when she had to go, and she’d taken to rubbing mud over her skin and hair to try to put them off.

Finishing her duties, she was about to curl up under the straw in the corner to sleep when she heard movement outside. Fearing it was Ather coming back, she leapt for her hiding place, but the door swung open before she had taken two steps, taking her by surprise.

Two monstrously large men trudged in, leading two of the biggest ink-black stallions she’d ever seen. Both men and horses looked like they’d been out in the wilds for a good long while. They were all hardened and worn, dusty and rugged. The men wore dark clothes and had thick black cloaks. Both had dark hair and eyes, and their handsome faces alone were enough to guarantee neither of them would want for female company while they were in the village.

At that thought, Lana blushed and hoped her face was still dirty enough to hide it. Their horses reared and snorted, spirited as they were. She imagined these men were just as wild as their mounts. She shook slightly. Village lads and farmers were one thing, but the last time men like these were in her village, they had simply taken anything they wanted; food, supplies – and more than one woman was now growing with a child that was not her husband’s. Lana still had bad dreams about the raids though she had hidden herself well each time they had come and they hadn’t been back since the end of the summer. The local lords had run them off, she’d heard.

Lana continued to survey them. No, she wasn’t used to men like these. They must be warriors of some sort though. Yes, that was right. She had heard talk earlier in the day from travellers who had come via the north road. Mercenaries had been seen journeying south to the ports, travelling to where their services would be best paid for. These men were part of that sell-sword army, the feared Dark Brothers. She must have made a sound, because suddenly she was the focus of their piercing gazes.

‘Where is the master here?’ one of them ground out.

She opened her mouth, but, to her mortification, no sound but a tiny squeak passed her lips. The one who had spoken looked impatiently at her and the other, amusedly.

‘Are you mute, girl?’

‘Leave the child alone, Viktor. You’re frightening her.’

Viktor smiled slightly. He was enjoying her discomfort, and her eyes narrowed at him.

‘I am not frightened!’ She sneered.

Viktor’s grin widened. ‘Are you sure of that?’

He took a step towards her and she took two back.

‘You look frightened to me. Tell me where your master is before I become impatient.’

She knew he was playing games with her. Ather did that as well, but whereas Ather’s games always ended in her receiving a sound beating, these men had no reason to harm her. They had no reason to even think of her, so far was she beneath their notice, she mused.

She looked Viktor in the eye and stood up straight. ‘The sun is down. He’s no doubt asleep.’

A look was shared between the two men. ‘Bit early in the day to be abed.’

‘He’s a drunkard,’ she said simply. ‘But he never comes to the stables anyway. If you want your horses taken in, there’s room in the last two stalls for the night. A silver. Each. They’ll be well tended. You have my word.’

‘You’ll see to them yourself, girl?’ the other man asked, looking at her somewhat oddly.

Unable to help herself, she barked a small laugh. ‘Do you see anyone else, sell-sword?’

They both raised their brows in surprise. Perhaps they weren’t usually spoken to like that by slave girls.

The one not called Viktor produced the coins and held them out to her while the other simply watched the exchange. She edged forward, afraid one of them was going to grab her. Such things had begun to happen with alarming frequency over the past months. But they both stayed still, as if afraid she’d flee if they pushed her.

She took the coins gingerly from his open hand and looked him in the eye while she did so. She was no quaking waif. She’d have been the richest girl in the valley if her mother hadn’t died. He looked like he was trying to suppress a grin, and she had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at him. She was still a slave and had seen others punished for less.

The coins secreted away in her rags, she made to take the reins from them, but they stopped her.

‘These are not docile farm stock. They’re war horses, child.’ Viktor sneered. ‘They’ll bite, kick and stomp on a girl like you as soon as look at you.’

Lana simply shrugged. Less work was fine by her, so she left them to take care of their own mounts while she brought the coins to her master. Ather was nowhere to be seen, so hopefully he’d gone to the tavern and she’d be safe until tomorrow afternoon when he woke with a throbbing head and in a foul temper.

She found Dirk staring into the flames in front of the fire instead of passed out into oblivion as she’d expected.

‘Master,’ she said softly, ‘two men have housed their horses in the stable for the night.’

He didn’t look until he heard the clink of the money as she placed it on the table next to him. He turned his head to stare at the coins.

‘How long have you been with us, girl?’ he asked after a moment.

‘Six years, Master.’

‘So long?’ Dirk leant back in the chair. ‘And your da never came back for you.’ He murmured, half to himself.

Lana frowned, wondering if his mind was going soft. ‘He’s dead, Master, remember?’

He snorted and glanced up at her. ‘Your ma told you that so you’d stop asking. She made him go.’

Lana sank into a chair. Her papa was alive? Why had he never come back for her? Did he not know her mother was dead?

‘Why are you telling me this now, Master?’

‘Thought you knew. It’s no secret. Heard the other day he lives in Kingway.’ He gave her a measured look. ‘I know how my boy treats you. Doesn’t sit well with me, girl, but …’ He looked ashamed. ‘I’m not strong enough to stop him. Next time you have the chance, go to your da. But don’t get caught. You know what they do with a runaway.’

Lana stood up. Escape? Her mind started to turn. She’d need food and supplies before she could flee this place. How far was Kingway, even? It would be difficult and dangerous, but for the first time since she’d become a slave, she had hope. If she could get to her papa …

Dirk’s gaze returned to the coins on the table and her thoughts of fleeing were halted for the time being. Her heart sank. ‘Get me flagon, girl.’

She closed her eyes with a short prayer to the gods. She was still a slave for the moment, and she suddenly had a very bad feeling.

‘Yes, Master.’

* * *

Chapter 2: Viktor

Viktor watched the girl leave the barn from the corner of his eye. She was unkempt and dirty and the rags she wore stank of horse shit. In the north, where he and his Brother had come from, even slaves washed themselves, and he knew of none who wore rags in such a sorry state. Her dark hair was plaited untidily down her back. It looked dark, anyway. It might be golden as ripe wheat under all that filth for all he knew.

Viktor saw to his horse and waited until Sorin had finished as well. They walked the short, muddy distance to the only tavern in this backwater where there was at least a roaring blaze and a hot meal could be found. Inside, they found a few men. Some were eating their suppers, others having a quiet chat over a tankard and minding their own businesses. Then there was a group of bawdy young men nearest the hearth. They were uproariously drunk and guffawing over a story one of them was relating.

The Dark Brothers sat at a table in a murkier corner and a sizeable wench sidled over. After ordering ales and whatever food there was from her ample chest, they both silently surveyed the room, more out of habit than the actual possibility of a threat.

Viktor had no interest in the group per se, but he kept an eye out as he glanced over at Sorin. He expected his Brother to be watching them as well, but his attention had been grabbed by something over Viktor’s shoulder. He turned and immediately noticed the ragged slave girl slipping through the room, keeping to the wall as much as she could with her head down, trying not to be noticed.

His eyes narrowed as he observed her. Foolish girl. Didn’t she know that every man’s eyes followed her? The more she tried to hide, the more she stood out.

He saw one of the wenches thrust an earthenware jug into her hand with a pitying expression and try to usher her back outside quickly, but the drunken group had spotted her. One of them approached while the others looked on. The wench intercepted him with a smile, pushing her breasts into his face, and murmured something meant to entice, but he pushed her away hard and grabbed the slave girl she was trying to protect.

Interesting.

‘Where were you when I came looking earlier?’

‘I was at the butchers for your da,’ she said meekly, not looking at him.

‘Why aren’t you at the stable where you belong?’

‘Your da asked me to get him this.’ She raised the flagon, still staring at the floor.

One of his friends piped up from the group. ‘Thought you said you’d fucked her, Ather. She doesn’t look well pleasured. Give her to me for the night. I’ll give her back to you with a smile on her face.’

‘I’d give her a bath!’ said another, and they all laughed heartily.

Ather’s face turned bright red with anger, hers with embarrassment.

Viktor took a long swig of his ale. Why couldn’t he stop looking at her? He glanced at Sorin. His Brother was the same.

‘The next time I’m looking for you, you’d better be where you should be. Understand, slave?’ Ather sneered.

‘Yes,’ she answered and turned to leave.

He grabbed her and wrenched her back hard. ‘Did I tell you to go, bitch?’

She stifled a cry. ‘No.’

‘Sit with us.’ He pulled her towards his friends.

‘I must get this to your fa–’ she began, but he interrupted her.

‘My da is probably dead to the world by now.’

She struggled in his grip and he grabbed the front of her rags. There was a rip and suddenly Viktor could see a large expanse of fair skin. She covered herself in an instant and fled, but Viktor felt himself hardening all the same.

Ather went back to his friends, laughing.

Viktor looked at his Brother and raised a brow.

‘Flesh white as freshly fallen snow,’ Sorin breathed. ‘And certainly no child.’

‘She’s not as filthy as she looks, either.’

Sorin nodded as he gazed at the door thoughtfully.

Viktor knew that look. ‘There won’t be time to make a conquest of her. The job is done now that that girl’s decided to stay at the keep with Mace and the others. We leave tomorrow. Besides, this one doesn’t seem interested in men.’

Sorin waved a hand. ‘These provincial boys learn how to fuck from watching farm beasts. What do they know about pleasuring a woman? Ten gold bits say I have her screaming my name before we travel on.’

‘Twenty.’

Sorin’s eyes gleamed and Viktor almost felt sorry for the lass. His Brother loved a challenge.