The Innocent

refuse to obey me instantly again in front of my men, I will be forced to kill you!'

'Jesu!' she half whispered, 'you do not mean to take me here before the entire hall, do you?'

In reply he lifted her skirts up slowly, tucking them into the back of her neckline. He had always thought Isleen had a particularly fine bottom. Now he viewed it at his leisure, running his hands over the smooth, round globes of flesh. When she shivered, he inclined himself again over her body and murmured softly in her ear, 'Ah, you have been faithful to me this time, my pretty bitch, haven't you?'

'Did you think any of your men would service my needs after you hung those two fools before your little foray into England, my lord?' she returned scathingly.

'Are you ready for my pleasure?' he demanded.

'Nay,' she said softly.

'Then, I must see you are prepared,' he told her with a chuckle. He stood again, and raising his hand brought it down hard upon her buttocks.

Isleen squealed sharply, and the men at the trestls below the high board now looked up with interest, several of them grinning and making lewd gestures with their hands.

'For each time you cry out,' he told her, 'I shall add an additional two strokes. I shall now render you twelve instead of ten, my pretty bitch.' His hand descended upon her hapless flesh again, smacking her until the correct number of blows had been properly delivered and her buttocks were a bright pink. 'Are you ready for me now?' he said.

'Yes!' Isleen cried out, and then gasped as he thrust himself into her female channel. 'Ahhhh!' She shuddered, feeling his thick manhood probing her lustily.

He laughed as she ground her hot bottom into his groin. 'You are the perfect whore, Isleen,' he told her as he eagerly pumped her. His fingers gripped her hips, leaving red marks on the white skin. He used her hard, making her cry aloud again and again as his men watched avidly, their mouths open in admiration, some of them even fondling themselves in their excitement. Finally Merin ap Owen was well satisfied, and he withdrew from her.

For a long moment Isleen lay prone over the table, and then with a deep sigh of satisfaction, she arose. 'You are a fine lover, my lord,' she told him, pulling her skirts down. 'I will wager the little nun will not satisfy you as I can.'

He sat back down again and drank deeply from his goblet. 'Are you jealous, my pretty bitch?' he asked her mockingly.

'Why will you not imprison her?'

'Because she has done nothing to displease me,' he replied. 'She is a gentle and good lady. I have no quarrel with her. I simply want a ransom from her husband. It is a business transaction, my pretty bitch. Nothing more.'

'Then, why not give her her own rooms?' Isleen persisted.

'Because, as I told you earlier, I do not trust you; and because there are no other rooms fit for a lady such as the lady Eleanore,' he said. She was jealous, and it amused him to taunt her.

'Then, give her my apartment, and keep me with you,' Isleen half pleaded. 'I would be at your complete disposal, my lord, and eager to do whatever you wished me to do.' She caught his hand in hers.

'Nay, my pretty bitch. It is better that the lady Eleanore is where I am, and where all know I permit no one else to enter,' he replied. 'My prisoner is very beautiful, and I would return her to her husband as I found her. Or almost,' he mocked his mistress.

'You think her beautiful?' Isleen felt her temper rising. He had never called her beautiful, but he thought the little nun beautiful? 'I never before heard it said that Eleanore de Montfort was beautiful, my lord Merin. It is I who am considered a beauty.' Isleen preened at him, smiling winningly.

'You are pretty enough,' Merin ap Owen told her, 'but you are not as beautiful as the lady Eleanore. I know the English consider golden hair and blue eyes such as yours a standard of beauty, but I do not. I find the lady Eleanore with her silvery eyes and pale red-gold hair, her translucent skin, her sweetness of expression, far more beautiful than your common prettiness. Has no one ever told you that? Or have all the men in your life fallen at your feet in awe of your golden and sapphire coloring? You are as wicked as I am, Isleen. That evil is beginning to show through in your face. The lady Eleanore, however, has a good heart, and that is what shows in her fair face.'

'You are falling in love with her,' Isleen accused him.

He laughed harshly. 'Nay,' he said. Then he stood again. 'I am going to my apartments now, my pretty bitch. Come, and I will see you to your chamber so I may be certain to know where you are.' He pulled her up, and dragged her from the high board.

Isleen swore virulently at him as they went. 'You are a dog, Merin ap Owen. I will not play your bitch for much longer if you do not treat me better. Have a care! You are bruising my wrist. Owwww! Do not pull me by my hair, you bastard!'

In the narrow stone hallway of the castle, he pushed her against the hard wall, banging her head as he did. 'Listen to me. You belong to me and me alone. You are no better than a slave, Isleen. You will do what I say, when I say it, as long as it pleases me. I will tell you when I am through with you, and not you me.' His fingers dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her shoulder. 'Do you understand me, Isleen? ' His dark eyes blazed at her.

Isleen was afraid in that single moment. This man was like no other she had ever known. He terrified her, and yet she adored him with every fiber of her being. She would not let Eleanore de Montfort steal him away and ruin her life yet a second time! She would make Merin ap Owen love her. She would! 'I understand, my lord,' she said low.

'Good,' he said. 'Very good, my pretty bitch.' They ascended the staircase, passing his apartment, then moving into the even narrower staircase leading to her apartment in the tower. He opened the door and pushed her through. 'Do not come out until the morning, Isleen. I will send Arwydd to you. Once she is inside, I will loose the mastiffs. They will tear you to pieces if you try to enter my apartments. Good night.' He pulled the door shut and descended down to the next level, where his own rooms were located. Entering, he said to Arwydd, 'Go to your mistress, and be warned, the mastiffs will be loosed shortly. Remain with your lady until the morning.'

'Yes, my lord.' Arwydd curtsied, and hurried out.

Merin ap Owen glanced about and saw the tub had already been taken from before the fire. Walking into his bedchamber, he looked through into the tiny interior chamber opposite his bed. 'You have not prepared yourself for bed yet,' he said to Elf, who was fully dressed. 'Are your garments not damp from the rain?'

'There is no door, or curtain to provide me with privacy,' Elf told him.

'It is better that you are where I can see you,' he said. 'Take off your gown, lady. As you so pithily reminded me earlier, your husband will not pay me for a corpse. I am certain your chemise is a modest enough garment, and my baser instincts can be kept in check. Besides, if I wanted your virtue, my lady Eleanore, I could take it no matter you were dressed in armor.'

She stared at him, not certain if she was shocked or amused by his words. 'Blow out the candles on the candle stand,' she said finally.

'Very well,' he replied, complying. Then watching her shadow, for the