Page 7 of The Bone King and the Starling

THE VIRGIN

T he gods are merciful,” I roar, my arms stretched over my head in triumph as I reenter Winterbren’s hall. The hall has been cleared of most people, three of the tables already cleared and packed away to make space for the thralls laying rushes out. A bonfire has been newly lit in the center of the space and my warriors sit around it stoking the flames. “And the gods are merciless…”

A few lingering souls sit scattered at the remaining two tables, though I note with displeasure that Olec is still among them. He sits with his man, Torbun, though their wives are absent, and Olec is half asleep, slumped over a table while Torbun laughs riotously at something he or some other schmuck has said. He hails me when I appear, cheering with the others, but I ignore him and move towards my warriors at the fire.

“You there,” I call to the nearest thrall. “Ale, wine, a platter for my female and me.” The female looks at me with enormous eyes before nodding once and scurrying off.

I slump onto the floor while my warriors laugh at me and shake their heads. “Where is Puhyo?” I ask Daneera, snatching her ale from her fist on its way to her mouth.

She snorts. “Making himself at home with a female in the stables.”

The other men snigger at that. “You’ve lost several good men and women this evening.”

I glance around — there is only one other female in my party besides Daneera — and laugh, “Hilde has found herself a companion as well, then?”

Another chorus of cheers go around. My thirty gathered are twenty now, with those who’ve sought lush pastures elsewhere for the night. I mind not, so long as the majority of my warriors remain together to defend against any who might think to ambush us. And I need the additional guard tonight.

I drain Daneera’s ale and toss the goblet aside, leaning back fully onto one elbow and letting my cock flop against my inner thigh. “I do not know how you men get anything done, and if it is half so pleasurable for a female, how you lot get anything done, either.”

More sniggering. Fuzier shouts at me from a few places away, “So does our sweet young queen know she’s taken her king’s virginity yet?”

I grin, feeling a surprising warmth in my cheeks. Am I blushing? “She does not need to know. I’m certain my ministrations have frightened her enough without her knowing she’s the only female I’ve ever claimed.”

“It did not sound like she was disappointed,” Daneera laughs. The other males laugh with her. “Her screams could be heard to Ithanuir.”

My smile nearly splits my skull, it is so large. “The sounds she makes. Gods, the sounds… Lohr did not tell me it would be like this.”

The thrall has returned, quicker than I suspected she would, with a platter piled high with foods from the feast and a full flagon of ale, a full pitcher of wine. I thank her and bid one of my men to pay her with coin — there will be no more of this thrall business here or anywhere in Wrath. I abhor how my wife has been treated in the days I’ve known her and how I expect she was treated her entire life. The surprise on the thrall’s face when he hands her a silver makes my heart clench. Tears come to her eyes. She looks at me, looks at him and stutters, “Th-th…”

“No thanks needed, young one. Enjoy your rest this eve,” I say and she scuttles off while my warriors laugh once more.

“Can it be? Is the bone king no more?” Daneera crows, her pale face alight with color.

“King of bones? Perhaps king of lambs,” Fuzier adds.

“He’s soft as a peach,” Dolar says and the males devolve after that as I lumber onto my knees, steeling myself for the shock of seeing her in bed again and trying to will my cock into submission so I don’t rut her. The last time was too much for her, I know that — knew that — but I was a virgin bastard and lacked the restraint. I will do better going forward. I hope. I pray.

“You’re damn right I am. You’ll find me next on the battlefield, armed not with an axe, but with flowers,” I grunt.

My warriors are laughing in earnest now and I grin around at all of them, rise to stand with my lady’s tray in hand and arch to stretch out my back. My cock, only half erect now, hangs heavy between my legs. Hektor points at it. “She really was a virgin then.”

I glance down and grin broadly, but then my smile wavers. There is a streak of blood on my cock. Pride hammers in my chest, along with an unfamiliar concern. “Should I have Hilde look at her?”

“Ah, that’s normal, my Lord.” Hektor is young, yet still more experienced than I am with fucking, particularly in that he fucks both males and females. “A little thing like her would have bled naturally, opening her legs for that monstrous snake you’re wielding.”

I nod, strangely reassured by the much younger warrior.

And then Fuzier, a male my age with light brown skin and dark hair streaked with grey, says in that same chipper voice, “And is she pleased to know that she’ll be coming with us after the games? Back to Ithanuir, that is.”

“How could she not be?” Daneera says. “Have you seen the way they treat their thralls around here? Disgraceful. It is a shock Raya has not yet struck down this foul place.” She speaks loud enough I know that the table full of Winterbren’s so-called warriors can hear her. In any other city or village, I might reprimand her disrespect. But not here. Now, I do not even look up.

But I do frown. “Of course. I told her many times what she means to me, to you, to us all.”

But my warriors don’t laugh. Instead, they exchange glances that seem to speak a tongue I do not. “Speak, the lot of you. I may be the king of flowers for her, but for you all, I will be the king of flayed corpses if you don’t open your mouths.”

Ale and wine are running freely through the group. Hektor, a dark-skinned waif of a man who doesn’t look like a warrior at all, yet ranks among my most lethal, drags his wrist across his burgundy mouth. “You mean to say, my lord, that she does know that she will become queen? That she does know you intend to wed her?”

“Yes. I was clear.”

“You are a lucky male then.” Fuzier sits up and hands me the pitcher and the ale flagon.

I take both in one hand, brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

Fuzier scoffs. “My wife would take my stones in the night if I had her before making her an oath before Ghabari.”

“Many males take their wives in raids,” Daneera insists.

“This isn’t a raid,” Hektor responds, and he’s right. Unease stirs in my belly. “But I’m certain she’ll go easy on our virgin king.” He grins, but the doubt has already been sowed. I kick him in the thigh and he buckles around the blow, laughing as wine dribbles down his chin. “I mean no disrespect, my liege.”

I turn to Fuzier. “You think she will be displeased?”

Fuzier actually looks thoughtful, his eyes growing distant as he stares in the direction of my chambers. “Did you inform her she would be your queen or did you ask her?” He tugs at his wine-stained bottom lip.

My skin prickles. Despite the heat of the fire, I can feel the chill of the drafty hall in ways I could not before. I shudder and glance over my shoulder, the pull to return to her side and ensure that she is pleased with me strong.

Fuzier continues when I remain quiet. “She is likely not a female who’s been given many choices in life.” He shrugs as if he has not obliterated the coherency of my thoughts.

“And you are certain that she’s aware of her new status?” Daneera adds. “If you’re not certain, there is always time then to change your approach and ask.”

I rub my bearded chin, feeling the wetness of her slick still coating it in parts. And loving it. “Perhaps, I will ask.”

“Good. She won’t say no. You are king, after all, and you certainly seem to know how to please a female if her cries of pleasure were any indication.”

“Anyone would be pleased by a sword like that,” Hektor barks, pointing at my groin, and my warriors devolve again into laughter.

My smile returning in part, along with a sprig of hope that sprouts in my chest, I take a step away from the group, giving young Hektor another swift kick.

“When will you inform the chief you’ll be taking his thrall?” another of my men calls.

“Not anytime soon,” I mutter, not loud enough for the chief and his men to hear, though I return to tell my warriors, “I have plans for the chief and his wife, but I need more time to ruminate on them.”

A low, excited murmur whispers among my warriors. They know of my plans and I can see the delight of bloodlust shimmering in many of their gazes.

“She won’t say no, my king,” Daneera calls at my back as I turn from the group and round the ornate throne raised on the dais. “You are the bone king, after all.”

I do not respond to her as I return to the room to find my queen asleep on her back. Her body is so beautifully rouged, brown skin glistening with the product of her exertion. She sleeps soundly, the slow rise and fall of her chest stirring emotions deep within me, emotions I haven’t felt for some time. I think of my mother, strong woman that she was, and wonder what she would think of this female here now.

I smile, knowing that she would like her. My father may have been king once, but it was my mother from whom I inherited my fierceness. It was she who protected me and provided for us after my uncle took the throne. She hid us away in a remote village of Wrath, not entirely unlike this one, until I was strong enough to return to Ithanuir. She fought at my side, even, when I took my uncle’s life and earned my name.

This female is very different from my mother, not just in terms of appearance. Delicate, where my mother is a strong, robust woman, yet no less a warrior. I know my mother will respect that. However, I wonder now over my warriors’ words. Have I gone about this all wrong?

I sit on the edge of the bed and place my covered tray and alcohols on the table, ignoring them for now in favor of stroking my fingers over her hair. She tips her face towards my touch in her sleep.

I reflect on our past exchanges, on the words I’ve said to her, and I know in my chest that what I told my warriors was untrue.

Even though it seemed so clear to me, I never once outlined her new role within Wrath. I never told her expressly that I planned to wed her in Ghabari’s temple in Ithanuir before all of my people — our people, now. I simply took her and showered her with praise she deserved for the higher plane she took me to this night. I called her mine. I assumed she would understand that I do not make trite statements. I do not offer false hope.

But she does not know me. She knows her drunken lord, whose word is as shallow as a puddle after a light rain. She will not believe my words easily. I will need to show her and yet, I only have three days.

If I offered her a choice, would she come with me? Or would she choose to stay? And even if she said yes, would she agree to the offer of marriage from her king? Or from Calai?

A small prick fills my chest with a terrible pain. I will offer this female a choice, perhaps the first she’s been given in her life, but…what will I do if she says denies me? My eye twitches along with my swordhand. I know the answer to that question. If she says no, I will take her anyway like a warrior in a raid. She is mine. It is up to me now to ensure she understands. To ensure she feels the same.

I slide beneath the furs I have layered atop the bed and wrap my limbs around her, trapping her to me beneath the sheets as I plan to trap her to me for the rest of my days. Gods forgive me.