The Warlord’s Promise
An erotic short story by
Alyssa Morgan
This is an explicit and erotic novel
intended for the enjoyment
of adult readers. Please keep
out of the hands of children.
www.Phaze.com
The Warlord’s Promise
Copyright © 2011 by Alyssa Morgan
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Edited by Judy Bagshaw
Cover Art © 2011 by Trish Schmitt
First Edition July 2011
ISBN-13: 978-1-60659-617-3
SMASHWORDS EDITION
Published by:
Phaze Books
An imprint of Mundania Press LLC
6457 Glenway Ave., #109
Cincinnati, OH 45211
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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Kate hated warlords. Absolutely despised them. Especially Ethan MacGregor, the one who ruled over her village.
It was said among the people that warlords were a necessary evil, evil being the choice word. So long as a person was willing to trade something, a warlord was willing to offer his protection. Clans, bandits and thieves ruled the roads, terrorizing small villages like Kate's, so safety was a priority for everyone, no matter what the cost.
Very few would dare challenge a warlord, and those who did never lived to tell about it.
Kate stared up at the sliver of moon hanging in the night sky and pulled the hood of her cape over her head. Winter would come early this year. She could see the cloud of her breath as she let out a heavy sigh.
It was time. Her turn to trade something to the warlord, but not in exchange for protection. It would be her body for her sister's freedom. Alison was the youngest of Kate's four sisters and also her favorite.
The young girl had managed to become the unwilling guest of Ethan MacGregor while out wandering the woods one fateful day. The warlord sent a message to her home stating he would wed Alison by the next full moon unless her father had something to trade for her. How fitting.
Of course Kate's father saw it as a blessing for their family if one of his daughters were wed to Ethan. He imagined they would all be protected and provided for, maybe even moved into a bigger house on more fertile lands. He had no intention of stopping the union.
Kate saw it another way. She watched Alison's betrothed, a young shepherd, moping around the village, broken-hearted. She thought of her sweet baby sister being stolen from her life and terrorized by a brute, subjected to a life of misery and servitude. At least as a widow, Kate was no stranger to what was expected of a woman in the marriage bed.
When Kate thought of the warlord taking her sister's virginity, she'd jumped on her father's horse, raced to the large house on the hill and made a deal with the man.
Which hadn't been easy. Ethan MacGregor wasn't very welcoming of strangers. Rather than receiving her in his home, she'd been led back to the stables where the warlord was over-seeing the construction of a new addition of stalls.
He and the working men were stripped of their shirts, their broad, tanned muscles bunching and flexing as they labored. She recognized Ethan's hard profile immediately. His long, dark hair was secured with a leather thong and his skin was covered with a layer of dirt and sweat. Kate was lucky she had no interest in men, no matter how nicely put together they might be. She'd only thought of how rude it was for the warlord to receive her so poorly. He obviously lacked even the basest manners.
The man had barely spared her a glance when she was announced by his servant. He’d kept his back to her almost the entire time she was humbly begging him to free her sister. She'd worried at first that he hadn't listened to a word she'd said until he finally replied over his shoulder, "Do you have anything to offer me in place of your sister?"
When his dark eyes finally settled on hers, Kate knew she would trade anything in that desperate moment.
"I own nothing," she'd told him.
"That's not entirely true," he'd replied. "You seek to deprive me of a beautiful companion, which is what I desire above all things. I'd consider taking you in Alison's place."
Kate wasn't at all shocked by his words. She knew what kind of man she was dealing with. And he was right. All she owned in this world was herself. She was prepared to do whatever he asked of her. "Fine. But I have no desire to wed you."
That earned her a stern look from the man.
She had to remember she was on his ground now. He might lack manners but that didn't give her an excuse to do the same. "I'm certain there are others better suited for you than my sister and I."
"Aye," he'd agreed.
The big oaf! How dare he insult her so. She needed to find a way to cut their conversation short before she let him know what she really thought of him. "And I imagine a man like you is only after one thing where ladies are concerned."
"You seem to have me all sorted out."
"Well, there doesn't appear to be much depth to you." Kate had cringed with shame as soon as those words left her lips.
A moment of silence passed before he spoke. "So what's it to be?"
"I'll give myself to you for one night if you'll free my sister."
"Verra well," he'd said, swiping away some of the sweat and dirt on his brow with his forearm. "Be here after sundown three days from now. If you spend the entire night pleasing me in bed, I will let your sister go."
She nodded her agreement and turned to flee.
"And Kate," he'd stopped her.
"Yes?" She'd looked back over her shoulder into those cold, dark eyes of his.
"I expect you to wear your finest dress and leave your hair down. If you disobey this request, the deal is off."
Now the reality of what she had to do was closing in, but she had three days. She should be grateful he was giving her time to prepare. He could have taken her right there in his stables. On the cold, hard ground. In front of all his men.
The next three days passed in a blur and Kate didn't once feel bad for what she'd agreed to. Being a widow, she had no virtue to protect. She had no children to worry about, and after this stunt, she was certain her family wouldn’t care what the warlord did with her.
Better that she be the one to suffer in the place of an innocent girl. Alison had her whole life ahead of her, and Kate had already lived hers. Besides, it wouldn't be the end of the world. It was only for one night.
Her only worry was that he expected her to please him. She didn't have much experience with that, but she'd figure it out. She hoped.
She closed her eyes and inhaled the crisp scent of the fertile lands that surrounded Ethan MacGregor's home. They would probably get frost tonight. Maybe the first snow in another week or two.
As she neared the warlord's manor, she pushed back the hood of her cape, letting the cold night air sharpen her senses. Shock her awake. She focused on the torches glowing in the darkness, their flickering flames illuminating the expanse of the grounds. She swallowed hard, tasting her fear. The echo of voices carried on the soft breeze that picked up.
She put her shoulders back and steeled her nerves as she approached the massive wooden double doors looming before her. She’d never been on the other side of them. The heavy doors swung open as she got closer. She was expected.
Warmth rushed out of the house and with it the smells of cooking food; chicken, potatoes, herbs. Her stomach growled. She’d been too anxious to eat before coming. She’d spent her days torturing herself with thoughts of this night and now it was finally here. She was a nervous wreck.
An older man appeared as she hovered in the entryway. His short hair was graying and his wrinkled face looked tired, yet he carried himself with a quiet grace. He was richly dressed in a fine, gold-embroidered tunic, dark trousers and shiny leather boots.
“Lady,” he addressed her, giving a brief nod of his head. “Please, follow me. Your Lord awaits.”
As she followed the old servant through Ethan MacGregor's home, she was surprised to find the place was so warm and comfortable. Clean. Pictures and tapestries on the wall hung straight, the furniture was elegant and neatly arranged, the rooms illuminated by large candles and blazing fires. There were even rugs under her feet.
She had not expected the warlord's home to be so...cozy. She'd had nightmares of the place being dark and drafty, the rooms full of ragged, dirty soldiers with leering stares and foul breath, playing rowdy games or chasing after whores.
Instead, the halls were full of merry laughter, the servants were dressed in fine clothes, and any soldier who did pass them was bathed and groomed and offered a polite greeting. You could tell a lot about a man by his home. If she didn’t know Ethan MacGregor, she’d suspect he was civilized, respectable even.
She couldn't argue the village was prospering under Ethan's rule. He took pride in having land that was well-tended and subjects who were loyal because they were provided for. The few times he had meted out justice it was harsh, but fair. However, that didn’t mean he was a man who could be trusted.
The old man led her upstairs and into the west wing of the house and brought her to a stop in front of another set of heavy wooden doors. Her heart started racing when he reached out to open them.
Her eyes scanned the room and landed on Ethan MacGregor, who was lounging on the biggest bed she’d ever seen, propped up on one of his elbows with his booted feet crossed at the ankles. A fire raged in the hearth beside the bed. His long, dark hair hung straight and loose around his shoulders and the neck of his shirt was hanging open, revealing a large, muscular chest spattered with a mass of dark curls. He sipped casually from a goblet of wine, staring at her over the rim.