Nena stood among them, still wearing the rope harness, her bronze skin gleaming in the candlelight. Her hair was glossy and braided, and she now wore a sheer flowing dress similar to Altene’s. The thin material provided Jarl clear view of her silhouette and tantalizingly brief darker shadows of the tips of her breasts and between her thighs. He watched as the women secured her to the new chain on the post.
Altene, who had been inspecting the security of the bonds before waving the other women out of the tent, noticed the path of his gaze and frowned. “I had to give her one of my own dresses, my lord. Hers was too dirty to be re-worn. Once it is cleaned, I will return it for her to wear.”
“No hurry. This one is fine,” Jarl said, distracted. He finally tore his eyes away, and only then noticed the purple mark on Altene’s cheek. “What happened?” He traced his finger lightly along the edge of the bruise. His captive had left the tent willingly enough, but apparently had not remained that way.
“I was instructed to bathe her and make sure no harm came to her, which I did. Your prize was given no such instruction,” Altene replied.
“I apologize for that. That was not fair of me. You shall have...”
“Retribution?” Altene glared at Nena.
Jarl shook his head. “Reward. Go to the chest and pick a jewel—any jewel you wish for your trouble.” And for your results. Without the dirt and sweat and blood, the Teclan woman was even more breathtaking.
Altene’s eyes brightened at the prospect, her bruise forgotten. She made her way swiftly to the chest before he could change his mind.
“Any jewel?” she reiterated over her shoulder as she lifted the lid and gazed down on the sparkling array.
“Any,” he verified as he moved to stand before Nena. “Now what am I to do with you? I can’t be watching you every second, and I can’t have you escaping,” he murmured.
“Tie her life to another,” Altene said from the chest.
“What do you mean?” Jarl asked
Altene returned carrying the biggest ruby Nena had ever seen, so large it filled her palm. “Tie her life to another captive Dor, an innocent—preferably a child. If she escapes, the child will be killed.”
“Is this some Dor trick to free her?” Jarl accused. “You speak nonsense. Dor are ruthless. I’ve seen them kill their own children. Why would the life of a stranger’s child keep her grounded?”
“You do not understand Dor law, my lord. Yes, they can be cruel, but no Dor can kill another to save themselves—except in battle, of course. It would bring dishonor and shame to them, and anger the gods. If her escape would directly lead to the death of a Dor child, she will not do it.”
“Is this true?” he asked Nena.
“If you trust your whore so much, try it and see.” It was the first time she had spoken to him directly, and her thick exotic accent on his words fell pleasantly on his ears. Altene’s mastery of his language was far more accurate, with only an occasional hint of her native heritage.
Altene laughed. “She is clever, this one. You see, she cannot admit it and seal her own fate. She cannot deny it because you would most likely see her lie. So she pretends to want it, hoping you will not so bind her.”
Jarl surveyed them both. Altene’s assessment made sense, and he had nothing to lose. “Bring a child prisoner and do whatever spell it is you need to do to link them.” Nena’s expression remained impassive as Altene fled to do as he bid, and Jarl wondered again if it were some plot to free her.
Altene returned quickly with a mother and a girl of ten or eleven years. She wasted no time. “Nena, Daughter of Meln, you are hereby bloodsworn to this child, Exanthia, daughter of Relin. If you should try to escape beyond the borders of this camp for any reason, this child will be sacrificed.”
The mother fell to her knees before Nena. “I beg of you, please do not let them take my daughter. She is all I have left.”
“Have no fear.” Nena’s voice was gentle as she knelt and took the woman’s hands in her own. “I will not risk your daughter’s life. You have my word.”
“Gratitude. Gratitude,” the mother whispered and bowed her head.
“Go with your mother, child, and rest easy. You are safe.” Nena smiled a reassuring smile, though she knew the girl’s future was uncertain at best. Altene was correct; no harm would come to her as a result of Nena’s actions, but what kind of life would it be for a Dor woman-child to be raised as a slave? Is that what had happened to the Klarta woman? Is that how she had forsaken her own people and become such an abomination?
As Jarl watched Nena comforting the mother and child, he was shocked by two things. The first was an almost regal air about her that he chalked up to his own imagination now that he envisioned her as a princess. The second was her tenderness. It was undeniable, and it surprised him the most. Other than Altene, every Dor woman he’d ever met was cold and without emotion. For that matter, so were the Dor men. Kind and caring, she was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Though when she stood and met his gaze, no trace of softness remained; her eyes were hard as stone.
“Very good, Altene,” Jarl
