Whispers and Promises (restarted)

The kingdom of Rhagal was the last bastion of civilization before the Burning Plains, the great desert of the south. Founded a hundred years ago by the warlord Katum, the desert tribes were eventually united as one people. The line of Katum has remained unbroken since. King Arakhmon Athmir has ruled through strength and honor for 30 years and on this particular day, was celebrating that his heir, Prince Arakhmon Rath, was now a man and preparing to take his place on the throne.

The banquet hall at the palace was filled with courtiers, family members, and wealthy visitors come to pay their respects to the prince. The east and west sides of the hall were open by a series of consecutive arches that let in the sun and the warm winds, while the palace walls protected against any dust or sand being blown in. From here, the guests all could view the palace gardens surrounding them. Four great tables accommodated the revelers. On a dais at the southern end of the hall sat King Athmir and Prince Rath themselves at a fifth table. The young prince was handsome and strong. His straight, dark hair hung in a curtain around his face, dark eyes sweeping the room like a predator confidently surveying his territory. He wore baggy pants, sandals, and an open vest with gold thread embroidering it that showed his lean, muscular physique. Three scars visibly crossed his chest, mementos of the battles he'd seen as a teenager tracing pale lines across his swarthy skin.

The prince had returned from his rite of passage only a week ago. As per tradition, he spent a week in the desert alone with only a camel as a mount and enough water to survive. He had received his vision on the fifth night and also as per tradition never shared with anyone what it was he had seen. Some also noticed a change in the prince. He had always been a staunch patriot, a capable warrior, and a cunning presence in the royal court. But in the week since, he was difficult to read. He became more distant. Taciturn. Whatever his vision had been, it had given him some pause.

The king rose and held up a goblet. "My people!" The room grew silent and all turned to the aging monarch. Though age had weathered his features and turned his temples gray, he still had the presence of one born to rule. It was a presence that inspired respect rather than demanded it. "Let us as one drink to the future! To the strength of Rhagal. To the strength of our children. And to the future of my son, the man who will be king!"

A cheer rose up from the assembled guests and all drank their wine in unison, including the prince himself who bowed his head to the crowd. It was an old gesture. The king must show his neck when offered a compliment, lest he be so arrogant that he forgets why he holds power.

After the toast, the assembled guests offered their gifts to the young prince. Clothes, weapons, incense, spices, other luxuries. True, he had everything he could want already, but Rath accepted them with grace nonetheless. Another old custom. His brows furrowed in curiosity however when a group of foreigners came before him. A quartet of their own servants bore a litter covered in a fine drapery. Rath did not like the look of these men. There was something in their bearing that he did not trust.

"Prince Arakhmon Rath," the leader of the group began. From his complexion and dress, he seemed to be from one of the nearby kingdoms just to the north. Aside from a few diplomats accustomed to being in Rhagal, most northerners tended to look down on the desert folk. The man's overly ingratiating tone gave Rath the impression that this would be no exception. "May your foes cower before your might." A slight twitch of Rath's lip was the only sign that he felt his suspicions confirmed. The Rhagali people were known for their prowess in warfare, but no real diplomat would ever greet them with such a trite "blessing."

"And what do you bring for my son?" the king asked. Everyone could recognize the curiosity in the king's voice.

"A token of good will. It is my hope that the coming years will see more peace and cooperation between your great people and my homeland of Dath." The smirk on the man's face was irritating. A Dathish merchant. Such individuals ran the gamut from reputable traders to wealthy sneaks and frauds. Rath said nothing but noted that apparently the sterotypes had to originate somewhere.

The drapery was drawn back to reveal a slave girl in sheer garments and veil. There was fear in her eyes, though she said nothing. The servants helped her to her feet and she was escorted before the prince. Slaves were uncommon this far south. An unwillingness to do your own labor was a sign of weakness. The girl's swarthy skin marked her as possibly being Dathish herself. Rath also would not deny that she was quite beautiful. Possibly one of the fairest women he'd ever seen.

He stood from his seat and approached the girl. The fear in her eyes was stronger as he approached. He encircled her slowly. There were no signs of injury upon her, though he did note that her garments, such as they were, covered nothing in the back. As he moved in front of her again, he placed one hand on her shoulder and the other gently lifted her chin to look him in the eyes. Fear... and sadness. She resisted his touch slightly. Perhaps she had not been born a slave. Perhaps she had been taken at a later age or sold by her family to pay off debts. It mattered little. Whatever life she may have had before this was gone forever. Rath thought to himself however that her life here need not be miserable.

The silence that passed must have made the Dathish merchant uncomfortable. "You... still accept concubines, do you not? I-I mean no insult." The fear in the man's voice was perhaps greater than what Rath saw in the girl's eyes. Coward. This slave was clearly nothing more than an attempt to garner favor.

"I accept your gift," Rath said slowly and with a note of finality. He gave the man and his company a stern look. "You may be seated."

The man looked a bit paler at that gaze from the prince though he was also relieved to hear him accept. "V-very good, your grace. On behalf of House Jindoor, a thousand blessings be upon you." He practically scurried back to his seat.

Rath gestured two female servants over. "Take the girl to my chambers. Give her anything she needs and I will return at sunset." With that, Rath turned and rejoined his father as the two servants led the young woman from the hall toward his bed chamber. He had little fear that she would try to escape. It was high enough up that there was nowhere to go but down and she would never escape the palace grounds before the guards caught her anyway. Rath would show her that there were worse fates than being his concubine.

The wooden sides and bottom of the litter creaked as the servants walked along. Fine fabrics fluttered in the gentle breeze that was caused by their quick pace. The woman contained inside listened as the sounds of party drifted to her through the silken walls of her little prison. Her heart raced. Her palms were cold and clammy. Perhaps she would be one of the lucky ones, she thought to herself as she struggled to keep her panic at bay.

Kyra could barely remember her life before she was a captive. It was what the slavers did...wipe your memories clean before you were given to your new home. They didn't want weak girls that would simper and cry as they were presented. You were to be quiet, humble, and do everything that was asked of you. Kyra had learned those lessons well after watching girls fail and then disappear. The slavers could also be particularly brutal when they wished to be, beating a girl into submission.

Kyra had been born to the ruling family of Dath. As a princess, her life had been one of luxury and learning. Her father was a gentle man, one that valued honor and respect over the art of war. She still remembered the day that the men came to her father, threatening him unless he gave up rule of his lands. She almost wished that he had before the war had begun.

Her father and brothers had been killed one evening after dinner. The invaders had slipped into the palace without a word and before the deed had been discovered, chaos was already reigning. She had managed to slip away from the screams and fire only to be caught before she could slip into the woods. That was the beginning of her torture. She was nothing anymore. She would be sold to a brutal man to whom she could hope to service for a few years before she was either killed or given away to the next.

As the litter suddenly stopped, Kyra was thrust back into the present and she gripped the cushions beneath her a little tighter. She was nearly blinded when the curtain was moved to one side and suddenly she was pulled into a large room that was filled with people. She wanted to hide herself, to melt into the ornate stones beneath her feet, but she made herself stand proud and tall, trembling with the fear and sadness that wanted to overcome her.

A dark haired man circled her, looking upon her wears as if he were a merchant studying his fruit before buying. If this man didn't take her, she had no idea what would happen to her. Most girls never went back to the compound once they were removed. Would she be killed? Would she be sold again? As the man touched her shoulder and then chin, she knew that her thoughts were very evident in her eyes. Dark expressive eyes that never seemed to keep a secret.

Then the deed was done. She was accepted and Kyra nearly fainted with relief as servants came to take her away. As she was lead from the room, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder at the dark haired man that had saved her life. Did he know what he had just done? And just who was he?

The three Rhagal servant girls took the prince's new concubine to the bed chamber as ordered. The room was spacious and luxurious, but it was obviously the home of a sovereign and military leader. A dressing table stood to one side with a great mirror. Opposite in one of the corners was a mound of fine pillows and assorted rugs with several stacks of handsomely bound books in several languages.

The bed itself was large enough to accommodate several people. The pillows and sheets were all fine silks from the south. A gauzy purple drapery surrounded the circular bed, but was currently drawn back. Above the bed was the scorpion crest of the line of Katum, set against a sunburst design on a steel shield. Twin swords of Rhagali make with their distinctive, sinuous curves were crossed behind the shield.

An arch to one side led to the bath chamber. The bath was set into the floor, which was tiled in a great mosaic with turquoise and lapis lazuli creating an intricate labyrinthine pattern. The ceiling was another mosaic, this one depicting a portion of night sky and the constellations sacred to the Rhagali people. A sideboard contained another mirror and the prince's grooming kit.

The three girls busied themselves making sure everything was in order. They also inspected Kyra for any markings or bruises. They left her sheer garments and veil untouched. There was no modesty to preserve, but they knew that the prince would decide what she was to wear.

Meanwhile in the great hall, the feast slowly wound down. Prince Rath and his father stood at the doors and bid their goodbyes to each guest individually. A king was not permitted to leave the hall until he had shown the proper hospitality to every guest. Rath was not exempt from this rule. He was courteous, if somewhat cold. But the court knew to expect this. Some of the visiting dignitaries seemed perturbed by the young man's solemn nature, but the Rhagali were always an intense people. They said the severity of their desert home is what made them so strong.

Rath was polite but particularly cold to the Dathish merchants. He did not like the look of them, nor their leader's simpering tone. They were weak and wanted nothing more than to garner favor. He could tell what they thought of him. Like many foreigners, they saw Rhagal as little more than barbarians with delusions of grandeur. Dath had never quite gotten over the humiliating defeat they suffered when they tried to wrest Katum's newly founded kingdom from him.

Once the guests were gone, Rath turned to his father. "I must return to my chambers. The girl will be waiting."

Athmir looked at his son. "It is rare to take a foreign concubine. Are you certain? There are many women here to choose from."

Rath said nothing for a moment. "Better she live in the palace than with those Dathish jackals."

The king nodded in understanding and gestured for his son to go. Rath moved quietly down the halls to his bed chambers. The three servants immediately stood in a line at his entrance. He looked to the slave girl. "Pick one of these women in the morning. She will be your handmaiden." He then turned to the servants. "Has a bath been drawn?"

"Yes, your grace," the first answered, bowing her head.

"You may go." The three women left without another word. When the door closed behind them, the prince turned to the girl before him. "What is your name?"

Kyra had never seen a more opulent room then the one that she was standing in currently. As the serving women looked over her body for signs of abuse, her eyes were drawn to the finely carved arches and twinkling stones. There was an intense beauty about all that she saw around her and she could only imagine how much all of this had cost to do.

As the prince entered his chambers, the servants were quick to fall in line. Kyra simply turned in the sport where she was, looking at the man that was so dark and mysterious. He turned his attentions towards her, telling her to pick a servant in the morning who would act as her handmaiden. Her dark eyes widened slightly in surprise. She was surprised that a mere servant, albeit a sex slave, would be given someone to take care of her every need.

"If it pleases you, sir." She said softly, her eyes lowering towards the intricate stone floor beneath her feet.

Once the servants were dismissed and they were alone, she was surprised to hear him ask what her name was. She had been told that the man she was to serve would give her a name, but here this strange man was asking her such a personal question.

Glancing from the floor back into his intense gaze. "Kyra." She said softly, her heart racing in the heat of the moment. "Simply Kyra."

Rath stepped closer and circled the girl slowly. "Kyra." He said the name as if he were tasting it. "I am Prince Arakhmon Rath, son of King Arakhmon Athmir of the line of Katum." He began to slowly remove her flimsy garments and veil. He spoke as he did so until she stood naked before him. "You are now a concubine. You may not leave the palace, but within these walls you are free to go anywhere with one exception. Unless invited, you are not permitted in the bed chambers of my father or any of the court. You will take no other men to bed. In the presence of others, you will refer to me as 'your grace.'"

He took the girls hands and led her into the bath chamber. He stripped naked himself and stepped into the bath, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as the warm water enveloped his body. The scars of battle were the only signs to mar his powerful physique. He sat down and looked down at the space beside him and then to the girl. His message was clear, but whether it was a request or an order was not.

Kyra had long ago learned to not flinch when a man removed her garments. They didn't hide anything in the first place, but she felt so much braver when they were on. As he removed the gauzy material, she let out a little sigh and listened to his rules. There didn't seem to be anything there that she could object to, but she found it odd that he left off one detail.

"And what about in private, sir? What shall I call you when it's just the two of us?" She asked him softly as he took her hands and led her into the bath chamber.

She went silent as she watched him strip himself naked for his bath. He was a strong man, one that was incredibly handsome. He probably had his share of women waiting for him to take interest in them. Yet, he didn't seem concerned with anything as he stepped into the warm water and sank down with a long sigh.

Her eyes traveled along his strong shoulders and down his chest, taking in the scars that he had picked up in battle. Tilting her head to the side, she considered how a man would have gotten those angry looking lines before she noticed that he was looking at her intently. Had she already messed up, she asked herself what she noticed that he was waiting for her to join him.

"Oh..." She said softly, surprised as she quickly and gracefully stepped into the water and set in the spot that he had regarded.

He waited until she sat beside him to answer her question. "When it is only us, you may refer to me as 'my prince.' Only family or members of the court may address me by my given name." His hand reached out and turned her head to look at him.

"You are Dathish. What stories did they tell you of Rhagal? Tell me the truth." The girl had little reason beyond the fear of retribution to lie to him. She wasn't here to impress him. Still, he wanted to hear the truth of the words the Dathish spoke about his people. He would be king one day. That was reason enough to know. He knew the looks foreign delegates gave him. Knew they talked about the Rhagali behind their backs. It galled him that no matter what greatness his people accomplished they were not respected. He wanted to know what insults these foreigners spoke so that he would know how to prove them wrong.

"Of course, my prince." Kyra said softly as his hand reached out and turned her head without warning.

He knew what she was. She had no idea how he had guessed that she was Dathish, but she supposed that he was a learned man who had seen much of the world. She didn't want to answer him, but there was no other choice.

"I do not know much about Rhagal." She said, her eyes looking deeply into his own. "We had very little contact with the world outside of Dath. In fact, this has been my first trip outside the country of my birth in my entire life."

Rath was silent at her answer. It was not one he had expected. He was prepared to hear tales of savagery, cruelty and barbarism. Stories of screaming riders on black horses and veiled archers astride camels, plundering villages, raping the women, and making a mockery of the temples of the northern gods. But the girl said she knew nothing of his people. And for a moment... he wondered if that was even worse an insult. Had the northerners come to think of the Rhagali not as warriors but as dimwitted desert folk beneath notice until it came time to negotiate new trade deals?

Rath frowned at the direction his thoughts took him in. He looked up at the mosaic of stars on the ceiling to clear his head. Something about the stars always gave him some comfort when his mind was troubled. He would take moonlit walks in the royal gardens on nights when he could not sleep and the light of the stars gave him direction and peace.

"I see," he said at last. "Do you fear me?"

"No, my prince." Kyra said softly. "I do not fear you. I fear what might be done to me if you so wish it, but I do not fear you."

She had always cherished honesty about anything else. If a person was honest, then they could earn respect. That was what she wanted from her new position. Respect.

"You act as if I should fear you though." She watched as he looked up at the ornately tiled ceiling and she wondered what he was thinking about. "Would you feel better if I did?"

"No," Rath answered simply to her question. The memories of his vision flitted across his mind. He would need more time to think on this later. "The Rhagali are an honorable people."

He looked back to Kyra and his powerful arm encircled her shoulders, pulling her against him. He lowered his head and kissed her firmly but not aggressively on the lips. "When I ask you will come with me to bed. Understood?"

"As were the Dath." Kyra whispered mostly to herself as the prince tried to tell her that his people were honorable.

There had been no one more honorable than her father and her eldest brother. Her father had worked so hard to provide a life to all the people that relied on him. He listened to everyone, did his best to give them what they needed, and instilled those qualities in his children. She couldn't admit to anyone just how much she missed her family.

Kyra gasped as a powerful arm circled around her shoulders and pulled her against the prince's strong body. She looked up at him in confusion before he lowered his head and kissed her firmly. She stiffened in defense, looking up at him as he told her that when he asked, she would go to his bed. Of course she would. That's what she'd been trained for.

"Yes, my prince." She said softly.

She froze at his touch. Not that he expected otherwise. Regardless, they both knew exactly where this night would end. Rath washed the sweat from his body, paying little mind to Kyra as he did so. It didn't take him long and when he finished, he looked to her.

His strong hands turned her around so that her back faced him. He took a rag and began to wash off the sweat of the day from her skin. As he did so, his hands explored her body. The firm swell of her breasts, the gentle curve of her back and hips, the smooth flesh of her legs. Finally he set the rag aside. His arms encircled her again and pulled her into his lap. Her back was against his chest and the two of them looked out the open windows at the rising moon in the east.

One of his hands took hold of her breast. He squeezed and kneaded her flesh without being rough or hurting her. The prince was certainly no virgin. He was expected to know how to please a woman and had been instructed so when he was 18 by Thayla, the keeper of his father's harem. His other hand went down between Kyra's legs. His rough, callused fingers rubbed and stroked her lower lips. "This is your home now. But it does not need to be... unpleasant."

Kyra turned as he set his hands upon her, the smooth column of her back presented to him. The soft rag that had been in his hand was suddenly gliding across her skin. Kyra wanted to tell him to stop, that she could do it herself, but his hand started to explore her body. She bit her lower lip, keeping herself quiet and calm. She blew out a soft breath as his hands moved over her firm breasts, down the curve of her sleek back and hips, smoothing over her legs.

"Oh!" She gasped as his arms suddenly circled her waist and pulled her firmly into his lap.

Her back was pressed against his chest, the wide windows before them affording them both an amazing view of the rising moon and stars. They twinkled just like the mosaic above their heads and it was hard to tell where the mosaic ended and the sky began. She was entrance as she felt his hands clasp her breasts.

She let out a soft moan as he gently squeezed and kneaded her pert flesh, her head leaning back against his shoulder. She might have had her virginity taken from her brutally but Kyra had leaned to enjoy certain moments with men. This was one such moment that she struggled with herself to simply relax and enjoy.

The moment his hand left her breast and found its way to her lower lips, Kyra stiffened again. She wasn't sure what he was about to do as his callused hand slowly rubbed and stroked her lower lips.

"Yes, my prince." She murmured softly to his words as she slowly started to relax back into her position.

Several minutes passed in silence. Rath continued to touch her and listen to the soft sounds of pleasure she made. Kyra's presence did help to quiet his troubled mind. She slowly relaxed against him. His cock stiffened and pressed against her lower back. Yet he made no move to fuck her. He simply continued and listened to the sound of her voice.

The poor girl had every reason to expect from him some brutish pawing and fucking. Such was usually the fate of pleasure slaves. Indeed, prior to the unification of the Rhagali tribes under Katum, it was not unheard of for raiders to steal brides away and keep them like pets. Katum had ended the practice. Concubines were still kept, but the practicing of stealing and raping women became illegal under his rule. The last one to protest was a warlord who kidnapped and raped Katum's daughter. For punishment, she was allowed to castrate him before he was abandoned in the desert to die. It sent a clear message that the code of honor Katum made the law of the land would not tolerate rebels or lawlessness. He would drag the Rhagali people to glory whether they like it or not.

Rath cleared his mind of those thoughts. He rolled Kyra's nipple between his fingers and kissed her neck. Between her legs, he dipped one finger into her and explored her depths.

Kyra gasped loudly as her nipple was rolled between his thumb and forefinger. She couldn't help it as she bucked her hips against his lap. His lips were soon caressing the flesh of her throat as he dipped a finger into her entrance. Her thighs trembled as he pressed deeply, exploring her tight and wet depths.

"My prince...you do not have to treat me so kindly. I am here for your pleasure." Kyra murmured, her breath catching a few times as she spoke through lips that were becoming dry.

Rath didn't bother to contradict her. He simply continued. His teeth delicately nipped and scraped the soft skin of her neck. When her protests quieted again, he lifted his head to whisper in her ear. "A man who cannot please a woman does not deserve to call himself a man. Open your eyes and look at the stars."

He waited a moment for her to comply. Never once did his hands stop their efforts to bring her closer to orgasm. "This is your home now," he repeated. "The land under the heavens. You will learn our ways. You are my concubine... but you are no longer a slave."

Kyra moaned as his teeth nipped at her neck, scraping across the skin that was so incredibly sensitive. She whimpered as he whispered against her ear and she immediately turned her eyes to look out the windows to the stars beyond. His voice was soft and soothing, lulling her to relax. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, caressing the most intimate areas of her body.

She turned her head on his shoulder, her lips nearly pressed against his ear as she whimpered and sighed. Her fingers curled tightly as she struggled to contain what wished to escape.

She seemed to accept his words. He slid a second finger into her body and pumped them in and out faster than before. He flexed his palm, allowing him to rhythmically brush her clit as well. His lips returned to her neck and his lips, teeth and tongue sampled and tasted the soft skin there. He wanted badly to take her now. But it would be better if she came to him without fear. Knowing that he offered her pleasure and a better life than that scheming jackal from House Jindoor had obviously intended for her. He suppressed a twinge of anger. Now was not the time to think of courtly matters. He would have much work to do tomorrow. Tonight there was Kyra. He would take her to bed and sleep soundly afterward. Perhaps this gift was what he needed, though not for the reasons that those who gave her to him imagined.

The act of adding a second finger made Kyra let out a cry of pleasure. Everything he was doing was driving her crazy. She was sure that she would jump from her skin any moment as he continued to flex his palm, caressing her throbbing button. His teeth and lips were continuing their torture and Kyra knew that she wouldn't last long.

She reached her hand down between her thighs, her manicured and polished nails digging into his wrist as she struggled to hold on. Her hips bucked to meet his fingers twice before she let out a cry and came in a violent, shuddering rush.

Rath held her close as she rode out her orgasm. As she settled his arms held her still. She breathed heavily in his embrace still staring out at the stars. "Remember, you are not a slave here," he whispered in her ear. "You will learn what it means to be Rhagali."

His arms relaxed and allowed her to move on her own. When she left his lap, he stood from the bath and wrapped himself in a towel. He held another out to her. "In this land, slaves are kept by weaklings. The cripple who walks with a cane shows that he has greater will and strength than a slaver who chains others to do what he has become too fat and stupid to do for himself."

Kyra panted for air as she relaxed in the prince's embrace, struggling to come to terms with what had just happened. This man that she had just been given to, the one that she was suppose to satisfy, had just given her the ultimate pleasure. He didn't ask for anything in return. That was strange, she thought to herself as he was suddenly whispering in her ear, telling her that she was not a slave.

When his arms relaxed, she pushed herself from his lap, turning to stare at him as he stood from the bath. He wrapped a large towel about his body before he held out another to her. She listened to his story, cocking her head to one side in consideration. Perhaps he would value her more if she could offer him some skill.

"I can sew." She said out of the blue, unsure why she said it as she took the towel and pulled herself from the water. "Besides giving a man pleasure."

Rath said nothing in response to her non sequitur, though one eyebrow did rise slightly. He had heard stories of how slaves were beaten and tortured to braek them of their free will. Even prisoners of war were afforded better treatment. It would probably take time before the girl understood that the only thing she was expected to do was take no men to bed but Prince Rath himself.

He dried himself off and walked back into the bed chamber. He released the curtains, allowing them to surround the bed and diffuse the moon and starlight into only the faintest glow. Into this little oasis of shadowy light he stepped and laid back upon the luxurious silks and pillows. He waited for the girl to join him, asking a single question as he did. "Can you read?"

Kyra feared that she had displeased him in some way as he failed to respond to her comment. She quietly dried herself off and then wrapped the large towel around her body. When she entered the room she saw him drawing the curtains to the bed and she quietly made her way to him. She had been taught to be quiet and obedient, even when she wished to fight someone tooth and nail.

"Yes, I can read, my prince." She said softly, not really daring to climb into his luxurious bedding. "I can read in a few different languages."

Rath gestured for her to lay beside him on the bed. Her answer to his question intrigued him. He was lead to believe that slaves were forbidden from reading. Perhaps the girl really had been sold by her family to pay off debts. And that she could read several languages... Perhaps her original home had been more cosmopolitan than he imagined. His dealings with foreigners always had a note of coldness as they rarely managed to conceal the urge to look down their noses at him. "There is a library in the palace. The servants will show you where it is. You may spend your day there if you wish. After sunset however you will wait here for me."

The sight of her naked body in the moonlight caused his cock to stiffen again. There was a hunger in his eyes.