Breaking the Barbarian Ch. 04

"Orgumir," I called out to my old comrade as Miriam wrapped bandages over the wounds. "I owe you an apology."

The wrinkled warrior looked up from the graves he'd help dig and gave me a small smile.

"It's not the first time we've nearly come to blows. We're men of Kovgaard, after all. It's in our blood."

"That is no excuse. I lashed out in a rage, uncaring about your loyalty. Name the price of my atonement, old friend."

Orgumir chuckled.

"How about you give me one of the fancy swords from your family's trove when we return?"

"A small price to pay for that dishonor."

"I might have demanded more had Miriam there not stopped your fist."

"Both of you are quite welcome for that," Miriam said, tying off the last bandage.

We sat in silence for a time, staring at the half-burned winery.

"This Baron Selwyn, what sort of man is he?" I asked Miriam, longing to turn my mind away from the horrific memories of my brother's scalding corpse.

"He's bitter rivals with Grozdan, for one. Selwyn himself had the strongest claim to the ducal title until Grozdan arrived. While he spurned Grozdan's more severe edicts and clashed a few times with Grozdan's patrols, I always suspected he was waiting for the tide to turn. Now with Rikard in open revolt, he's picked his side. And his help will make things far easier for us."

"Only a matter of time, then," said Sorunna. "Etmorra is a forest ablaze now. Flames leap from one tree to another, until Grozdan will be one sad, lonely little man surrounded by fire."

"We just need to ensure that the convent and the innocents of the island don't suffer any further while the tyrant's rule crumbles," Miriam said, keeping a soft hand upon the back of my neck.

**

With the dead buried, we returned to the half-burned winery. Now that Baron Selwyn had thrown his lot in with the revolt, he wished to ride south with us back to the convent to meet with Rikard and the Mother Superior. Grateful for the additional safety provided by his band of soldiers, we didn't bother using the forest paths and stuck to the main roads.

When we returned to the convent a few days later, we found it surrounded by a camp of refugees and Rikard's levies. Hundreds had flocked to the safety of the Sisterhood and Rikard had used it as a convenient rallying point for his militia and knights.

Selwyn cast a warm smile over the sprawling camp.

"Does the Mother Superior's generosity know no bounds?" he asked.

"When it comes to protecting the weak and downtrodden, no," said Miriam, smiling beneath her veil.

Several nuns marched from the camp as we closed in. Though veiled and robed, I knew Catriona well enough at this point to recognize her gait.

"By Saint Morwenna's grace, what happened?" she asked, noting my bandaged burns.

"I am all right, thanks to Miriam's care," I said, dismounting and wincing from the faint aches inflicted by the flames.

I let out a long sigh.

"We found Hoskuld; he was slain during Baron Selwyn's assault on the manor."

"Oh, Anvarr," Catriona said, wrapping her arms around me, careful not to disturb the bandages.

Her gentle touch came quite close to drawing forth another tide of grief.

After a few moments of fighting off that sorrow, I gently extricated myself from her grasp. She led us inside to meet with the Mother Superior, who was clipping petals and herbs in the convent's gardens, no doubt to prepare more potions and remedies.

"Your holiness," I said Isidora rose to greet us. "Your end of the bargain has been fulfilled. I found my brother. His..." I clenched my jaw. "His soul has gone to the gods."

"Given what you told me of him, I shall not say a prayer for the sake of his soul," she said softly. "But I do hope that his passing brings you some measure of peace. Or at least certainty. The pain of not knowing his fate at all could have been quite cruel."

She gave a slight bow to Baron Selwyn.

"And I see that Anvarr has brought us new allies."

"Indeed," Selwyn said with a soft smile. "Grozdan's tyranny has gone on long enough. My only regret is that I waited to rise up after Baron Rikard had done so. Had I stood up to the duke sooner, much suffering could have been avoided."

"We can spend an eternity lamenting the mistakes of the past but I would much rather focus on the future." She smiled again at me. "Anvarr here has devised a rather clever plan: his raid on the port will hopefully draw Grozdan from the fortress at Saerkell. I daresay your rebellion might force him into taking reckless action, too. As soon as he leaves the safety of the fortress, we can strike. Your forces, combined with Rikard's and the skill of Anvarr's northmen, should be enough."

"Indeed," Selwyn said. "I've heard daily reports of soldiers deserting his cause. Even one of the mercenary companies he hired has already set sail for home, out of anger for delayed payments. We thus may have the advantage of both surprise and numbers at this point."

"Excellent," said Isidora. "Given the long ride you've endured and the trials to come, I suggest we all get an early night's rest. Baron, you and your men can make camp outside the walls alongside Rikard."

Selwyn bowed and marched off. Before I could turn, Isidora took me by the hand.

"Come with me, Anvarr."

Though my skin prickled at her touch, I pulled my hand away.

"I fear I am not quite in the mood for another Rite, your holiness."

"I am not dragging you off to have my way with you. I want to help."

After a moment's hesitation, I nodded and followed along. She led me into the convent, up a narrow staircase, and into a bedchamber. Though she was the Mother Superior, her quarters were nearly identical to my own: a humble bed, a bookshelf, and glittering stained-glass windows. Apparently her position did not come with the privilege of opulence.

When she removed her veil, I blinked with surprise. The only time she'd ever let me see her without it had been during our coupling in the sacred cave. Her gray eyes were softer than they'd ever been before.

"I do not need to be a prophet to understand what transpired today. The grief in your gaze and voice, the burns...I know it was not an easy death for your brother." She raised a hand. "You need not speak of it. But I know what it is to suffer such a loss. And I know how hard it is to suffer such a loss alone. I know how dreadful it can be to wake up from a nightmare, sobbing and screaming. And if such horrors do haunt you tonight, I would not have you suffer alone."

Nodding, I unstrapped my gear and staggered over to the bed. I flopped down onto the sheets and she sat down, taking my head into her lap. Gentle fingers stroked over my hair and forehead.

"Who made you endure such loss?" I asked. "And do they still live?"

She let out a soft laugh.

"You have not even fulfilled your current oath just yet. And already you want to undertake another?"

"If someone made you suffer, then they are an enemy of mine."

"It was long ago. Most of those responsible are dead. And the ones who live..." She ran her fingers over my scarred cheek. "They are not worth the effort. I have made my peace with what happened. I hope you can do the same."

The conversation brought to mind Miriam's words about Isidora's reasons for joining the Sisterhood of the Blessed Chain. Scattered rumors about a life on the continent, service with another Sisterhood...

"You ran, didn't you?" I murmured. "Left behind that carnage to take on this new life?"

"Usually I keep that part of my past buried. But perhaps your burdens will be easier to bear if you understand what I managed to overcome."

As she spoke, Isidora ran her hands down along my arm, probing with her fingers and massaging the aches in my muscles.

"My parents, unable to care for me, gave me as a child to the Sisterhood of the Weeping Dawn," she said. "An order of healers and funerary workers, who tended to the sick, the dying, and the dead. So I spent my whole life in a convent. Until raiders from Kovgaard slipped through the mountains, in search of loot and glory."

My eyes widened and my breath caught in my throat. Before I could speak, she tapped a finger to my lips and continued.

"The raiders killed most of my fellow nuns when they realized we had little gold to offer them. The only reason they didn't force themselves upon us is because they thought we all had the plague, on account of the sick people we tended to. The sickly were not spared, either. They burned, along with many of my holy sisters. And as my life was reduced to cinders, the raiders slipped back over the mountains. To them, we were nothing but a bloody, smoldering memory."

My heart ruptured at those words. Many of my countrymen used such raids to enrich themselves or to win glory, but my own clan had never stooped to such banditry. We would feud with other clans and fight in honorable battle, never resorting to raids against innocents. There was no honor in such raids, even if one could win great riches.

"Unable to stomach the thought of staying behind to rebuild, I wandered south for a time. Although each Sisterhood is unique, we still share some common bonds, and I met some Sisters of the Blessed Chain down in Tsannor. I befriended them, learned a bit of their ways and sought comfort in their teachings. So I took new vows, and bowed my soul towards Saint Morwenna."

"Which clan were they from?" I asked, my voice low and menacing. "When I return to Kovgaard, I will seek them out and-"

"Anvarr," she said softly. "I have made my peace with what happened. Besides, my fear was so great at the time that I could not possibly recall which runes or sigils they wore."

I took several deep breaths, even as I imagined visiting untold cruelties on such loathsome warriors.

"My point is not to compare our sorrows, Anvarr. But to show that tragedy can be overcome. Through love, through service, through companionship, I was able to move on from what I lost. And I know you can, too."

"And after all that, after what those Kovgaardians did to you, you still took me in?"

"How could I not? How could I possibly judge you for the crimes of other men committed nearly twenty years ago?" Her fingers ran through my hair. "Besides, you did not condemn all Etmorrans simply for the crimes of Grozdan and his soldiers. So I would not condemn all Kovgaardians."

She moved lower, slipping off my boots.

"Isidora, I was not in the mood before, and I am certainly not-"

"I am doting on you, Anvarr," Isidora said, giving my thigh a playful swat. "That is all."

After a soft laugh, I allowed myself to relax beneath her touch. She massaged out the aches in my thighs and back, then helped me out of the rest of my clothes.

Isidora tucked a pillow under my head and rested her cheek against my chest.

"Rest, Anvarr."

I obeyed that gentle command just as dutifully as I'd obeyed all of her lustful demands. Within moments I drifted off, carried away by her soothing voice and gentle touch.

**

Over the next few days, I stayed at the convent to assist with training Rikard's rag-tag militia. Though quite motivated to fight against the tyrannical duke, the eager peasants would not fare well against hardened knights and mercenaries. Any able-bodied man, however, could stand in close ranks with spears and present an imposing obstacle to the enemy. If it came to a proper battle, the militia just had to stand firm to allow the more seasoned troops to finish the enemy off.

At least a hundred of the locals, however, proved to be quite capable archers, given their experience hunting in Etmorra's wilds. So while the peasant spearmen couldn't do much other than hold ranks, I was certain the militia's archers would claim many lives if it came to open battle.

As we trained, Selwyn sent most of his forces back out into the countryside to scout for Grozdan's movements and to recruit more people to the cause. Every day they returned with news of a victorious skirmish or another village which had declared for the rebellion.

Bit by bit, we were chipping away at Grozdan's control of the island. It was only a matter of time before the duke's resolve shattered and he finally marched forth from his castle at Saerkell.

The hard work of training those eager peasants distracted me from the lingering grief over my brother's dishonorable death. My newfound purpose was a great inferno that kept the darkness and sorrow at bay.

After a long day of training the peasants on how to march in close ranks with their spears at the ready, I returned to my quarters. As my mind raced with thoughts of further improvements to make, I bathed myself free of sweat, then carefully peeled off the last of the bandages over my burned skin. Thanks to Miriam's quick work and the wonders of the nuns' alchemy, the burns had already faded to small patches of discolored skin.

It was only once I was clean that I noticed a little brown box resting near my pillow.

I opened it to reveal a little note, written in the Kovgaardian runic script.

Come to my chambers at once. -Miriam.

Beneath the note was a leather collar embroidered with green vines and writing in the ancient Etmorran script that I still could not decipher. My fingers brushed over the fine material, shuddering at what its presence implied.

After taking a deep breath, I affixed the collar around my neck. I shivered at its cold grip upon my skin, wondering what sort of punishment Miriam had devised. Once I was ready, I walked through the candlelit corridors until I found Miriam's chambers on the far side of the compound.

Aside from the echoes of hymns rising from a nearby chapel, the convent was silent.

That likely wouldn't last long, depending on Miriam's plans.

I knocked softly on the door.

"Enter," came Miriam's cold command.

Shivering, I stepped inside.

Miriam was seated on a chair at the far side of the room, utterly nude. Candlelight flickered against her lean, pale form. Her short dark curls had a wet sheen to them, likely the result of a recent bath. My eyes drifted to her small, pert breasts before diverting over to the other wicked sight within the room.

Nude and bound to the bedposts was Sister Catriona. Her large breasts rose and fell with needy gasps, and her wide hips squirmed against the sheets.

The redhead sighed and spread her legs in a desperate invitation. I almost groaned at the sight of her moisture dripping onto the sheets.

"And which particular Rite of Torment is this?" I asked, grinning as I closed the door.

"The Fifth," said Miriam. "In which one Sister takes control of two other lovers. A lesson in submission and power for all involved."

Shivering, I brushed my hands over the collar, then realized that Catriona also wore one herself.

"And the collars?"

Miriam crooked a finger and I crossed the room. She reached up and affixed a leash against the clasp of the collar, then gave it a little tug, forcing me down for a wild, quick kiss.

She then handed me a second leash.

"Bind her collar as well," she said, then pushed against my chest.

I held the leash with all the reverent care it deserved and crossed over to Catriona. The redheaded nun beamed up at me, her eyes dazed, her lips twitching. For a moment I loomed over her, admiring the way her pale skin contrasted with the dark collar. Shivering, I recalled how painfully wondrous it had been when I'd been bound and used...

Fire gleamed in her dark eyes. The fire of worship. Of devotion. Of a desire greater than just the need for pleasure.

Although I longed to kiss her, Miriam had not yet commanded it, so instead I leaned down to affix the leash to her collar. She mewled and turned her head, allowing her lips to graze over my wrist.

"Strip," Miriam commanded.

Standing at the foot of the bed, I gave Catriona an excellent view of my muscular form as I stripped down. Both women let out appreciative murmurs at the sight of my nude body. Already fully hard, I took a few deep breaths before looking over to Miriam for my next command.

The nun rose, crossed the room on soft, silent feet, and took hold of the leash.

After a soft tug upon it to remind me that she was in control, Miriam tapped me on the shoulder.

"Kneel."

My knees thudded against the floor and she brushed her fingers over Catriona's thigh.

"Tend to her needs, Anvarr. No teasing or tormenting."

After another tug on the leash, Miriam sat down upon the bed beside Catriona, her fingers dancing between the redhead's breasts.

Though I longed to tease Catriona in retaliation for how she'd tormented me during my first night at the convent, I dared not defy Miriam. After gentle kisses to each of Catriona's thighs, I leaned down and got right to work.

Gentle sighs and whimpers flooded the room: familiar sounds from when Isidora had pleasured her while I'd been blindfolded. My tongue flicked and wriggled, my lips nuzzled and kissed.

"Fingers," Miriam said, giving my leash another soft tug.

I slipped two fingers inside of Catriona's dripping sex. Her wide hips rocked upwards off the bed. Judging from the shivering of her thighs and the quickening of her breath, she was quite close.

And thus it was completely unsurprising when Miriam tugged on the leash, yanking my mouth away from the redhead.

"Remove your fingers," Miriam hissed.

I gave Catriona one quick thrust as consolation before withdrawing. She bounced off the bed, grumbling under her breath. While I certainly sympathized with her plight, the sight of her submission was nonetheless wondrous to behold.

"Sister Miriam," Catriona muttered, her eyes fluttering. "There's no need for this, you-"

"You complain too much," Miriam said icily, before turning her glare back to me. "Give her something else to do with that mouth of hers."

A yank on the leash guided me up the bed, and I crouched beside the bound nun. Before I could guide my shaft to her lips, Miriam gripped Catriona's head and shoved her mouth onto my cock. The redheaded nun squeaked with surprise and delight. Miriam's fingers tensed, grabbing Catriona's hair and forcibly bobbing her head up and down against my shaft.

My groans mingled with Catriona's soft whimpers and Miriam's delighted sighs. After a minute or so, a tug on the leash tore Catriona's lips away, then Miriam bade me to return to Catriona's sex.

Back and forth Miriam guided us, commanding me to tongue Catriona's folds for a time, before ordering me to use the redhead's mouth once more. Each time we grew closer and closer to our climax, but each time Miriam's cruel commands kept that wondrous bliss at bay.

"Please," Catriona keened, her hips rocking and writhing after Miriam pulled me away once more.

"I share her needs," I said, my chest aching and my thighs tensing. "I can endure no more of this."

Miriam glared, raked her nails against my chest, and guided Catriona's mouth back onto my shaft.

"You don't just have to torture us," I said with a weary smile, even as I bucked my hips against Catriona's lips. "We can tend to your needs, Miriam."

"Oh, you most certainly will," she purred.

Both hands settled on the back of Catriona's head. She pushed the redhead down, forcing her to take me all the way to my hilt. Catriona gurgled and whimpered, her eyes rolling back into her head. Drool leaked from her lips.

My shaft twitched, my hips trembled...

Gods, I was so close. Was this the end? Had I finally vanquished Miriam's cruel teasing?

I slid my hips back just a little, certain that one more thrust into that eager mouth would be enough...

Miriam growled and pulled Catriona's head away. I flopped back against the headboard, grumbling with frustration. After leaning down and licking at Catriona's chin to clean up some of the mess, Miriam shifted to lay down atop the redhead, her pert breasts pressing against Catriona's ample bosom.