Michael Manning - Mageborn - The Blacksmith’s Son

She was interrupted in her reverie by a door opening as she passed.

“Miss, would you mind helping me for a moment?” Lord Devon stood in the doorway looking upset and anxious. Terrific, she was exhausted already and now it seemed her sleep would be delayed even longer.

“Certainly your lordship, how may I be of service?” she responded in her pleasantest tone. She took pride in her job and wouldn’t let something like fatigue spoil her performance.

“Did you clean my room earlier? After my bags were delivered?” he asked.

“No your lordship, I cleaned and aired all the rooms this morning before you and the other guests arrived.” She hoped this wasn’t leading up to some petulant insistence that the pillows or sheets weren’t fresh enough.

“Perhaps you could help me then, I seem to have lost something, would you help me look?” Despite his reputation among the castle staff he seemed exceptionally polite.

“I really shouldn’t be entering your chambers this time of night, sir,” she replied. He seemed harmless enough but that sort of rumor could ruin a girl at her age.

“I understand. I’ll leave the door open if you prefer. It's just that I’ve lost a necklace and I’m beside myself trying to find it, it’s an heirloom you see.” He turned his back to her and went inside, leaving the door open.

With an inward sigh she followed him. He began searching through the drawers of the dressing table. “Would you check the wardrobe for me? It’s dark in there and I can’t see very well.” She had no sooner opened the wardrobe and leaned in to look when she heard the door shut, followed by the sound of a key in the lock.

She whirled around. Devon was putting the key into his pocket. A cold shiver ran down her spine as she saw the look on his face. She had heard stories of maids abused by young lords before, but things like this had never happened within the walls of Lancaster Castle. Such was the Duke’s reputation that no one had dared affront his hospitality before.

“Sir if you think to spoil me, I’ll scream. The good duke won’t stand for treating the staff like this,” she tried to keep her voice level but she could feel panic setting in. Devon had at least fifty pounds on her and while she was no shrinking violet she had little doubt he could overpower her. Her eyes scanned the room frantically, looking for anything she could use as a weapon to keep him at bay. It occurred to her that if she injured a peer of the realm, she might be put to death at worst, beaten and dismissed at best.

He chuckled, “Go ahead. Scream if you like. Who will take your word over mine? I found you rifling through my possessions when I returned to my room.” As he said this he idly reached over and knocked a jewelry case from the top of the dressing table. Rings and jewels worth more than she’d ever earned were scattered across the floor. “Looks like you were startled when I found you.”

Despair crashed over Penny in a dark wave. There was no escape left to her now, in an instant she knew her life was over, her dreams dashed by this pompous and spoiled lordling. The thought made her angry and she determined to scream anyway. If she was to be driven into the mud she would make sure as much dirt rubbed off on the bastard who had done it as possible. She took a deep breath.

“Relax. I have no intention of harming you my dear, or deflowering you either, if that is what you fear. I simply want the answers to a few questions.” He was smiling reassuringly at her.

“What questions?” she asked, for a second hope lit within her and she was ashamed at how easily he had manipulated her.

“Tell me about your friend, Master Eldridge.” That confused her utterly. Why is he interested in Mort? she thought to herself. As far as she knew Mordecai should be completely beneath the notice of someone like Devon Tremont.

“Pardon sir, I don’t know him at all, he only recently arrived here and…” she started, but Devon stepped forward. She paused. He stood only inches from her now.

“What was your name girl?”

“Penelope sir, but folks here call me Penny,” she hated how servile she sounded.

“Well, Penelope who goes by Penny, let me explain something. Are you listening?” He still sounded calm but she could hear his breath coming more hoarsely now. She didn’t trust herself to speak but she managed to nod. If you’ve ever been confronted by a large wild animal when you were a child you might understand how she felt. The menace was rolling off of him in waves.

“I absolutely abhor being lied to Penny. I hate it. And I think you’re lying to me now. I know it, because I saw you watching him earlier.” Penny’s heart was beating so rapidly she felt it would surely burst from her chest. “Do you think me a fool Penny?” She kept her head down, to avoid his eyes, but he was having none of it. “Look at me Penny.” He lifted her chin up. Large tears welled up and ran down her cheeks, betraying her fear.

“Do you know Master Eldridge?”

“I told you sir, I don’t. I only watched him because he seemed handsome…” her head whipped back from a stinging slap; strong enough to hurt like hell, soft enough to avoid bruising. Something snapped and her fear turned to rage, she brought her hand up to strike him in return. So furious was she, that if it had connected, he most surely would have taken a bruise. He was ready for her though, strong and quick he caught her by the wrist and abruptly twisted her arm, spinning her around and pinning it behind her. Her arm felt near to breaking as he applied a steadily increasing pressure. Helpless now, he pressed her face first onto the mattress.

“Now you’re starting to piss me off. Which is too bad for you Penny. I had wanted to keep this a nice friendly chat, but you just don’t seem to want to cooperate.” He was lying across her, using his weight to keep her pinned, and worse she felt a disturbing bulge behind her. His voice was coarse and husky in her ear as he continued, “Nothing excites me more than a girl with a fiery disposition. I’ve learned to break girls like you. Just like a young mare, sometimes you have to ride them hard to tame them to the bit and bridle. I’m sure your husband will thank me someday.” His hand was under her skirt now, relentlessly moving up her leg.

Desperation robbed her of reason for a moment, “No wait, wait, I’ll tell you. Please stop! He’s the blacksmith’s son. He’s not important, please you can’t do this!” She was crying now, her voice thick with fear. His hand had reached the top of her thigh now and when she felt his fingers touch her she lost control. A primal scream of rage, and terror ripped out of her throat, seeking to deny the injustice being done to her.

The sound of it was so great that for a moment he drew back, shocked at the volume of sound coming from such a young woman. “Grethak” he barked in a tone of command and abruptly her scream was cut off, every muscle in her body locked rigidly in place. Devon let go of her arm and rolled her over on the bed so he could see her face.

“You really are something special aren’t you my dear? I don’t believe I have ever heard a maiden scream as loudly as you just did.” He smiled at her, “But then you won’t be a maiden for much longer will you?” Devon’s face was rapt with pleasure as he stared down at her. He reached out and began calmly trying to unlace her bodice, which soon proved to be too difficult. Taking hold of her neckline he ripped it wide, exposing her breasts.

Penny couldn’t breathe; her lungs were paralyzed just as surely as the rest of her muscles. The only movement left to her was that of her eyes, which rolled wildly as she looked for some means of escape. Her head was pounding in time with her heart as she fought to draw breath. Devon leaned down and slowly licked her face, leaving a trail of spittle from her neck to her lips. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen such a lovely shade of purple,” he mocked. “Keltis” he spoke and touched her throat, before running his hand down to pinch her nipple rudely. Her throat opened and she was suddenly able to draw breath. She drew air into her lungs, her breath coming in great heaving sobs. She prepared to scream again, but he put his finger to his lips, warning her. Fear stopped her.