Captive Mail Read Free Page B

lips and suck it.
    “Have you no pity for me, then, a man held captive against his wil ?”
    She straightened and al the softness left her face. “None at al , male, as your kind made my life hel .” She climbed off the bed and rubbed her hands on a towel. “I’l send Frytha to wash and comb your hair.”
    When Frytha returned, she brought two more women with her. These two were tal and wel muscled and wore armor of some kind. They helped Frytha loosen the ropes on his wrists just enough for Harlan to sit up.
    “Don’t try to escape, male, or the guards wil kil you,”
    Frytha ordered.
    Harlan closed his eyes against the giddiness of being half upright and fought nausea. He had no intention of trying to escape until he gained more of an idea as to what his fate would be. The two female guards stared at him as Frytha washed out his long dark hair and combed it through. Their casual discussion of his physical attributes and potential ability in bed made him feel like a male wulfran put out to stud.
    Who were al these women and where were their males?
    On Valhal a it was virtual y unheard of for a female to live on her own, as she was considered a valuable asset to her family. The king and queen were trying to change attitudes to women and had brought in many wil ing females from Earth to make up for the Valhal a shortage, but here in the mountains, the tribes were reluctant to change with the times.
    Harlan hissed as Frytha’s comb tangled with one of the smal braids at the front of his hair. She paused to examine the braids and then careful y replaited them.
    “He’s ready,” Frytha announced. “Let’s take him to the temple.”
    Harlan was unceremoniously hauled to his feet, his hands chained behind his back and a rope tied around his neck.
    He wasn’t offered any clothes or shoes and two more female guards moved into place behind him as he left the smal chamber. He was stil weak and every step was an effort. Was he going to be sacrificed? It seemed likely and he wasn’t sure he could escape his fate. If he only knew the king had survived, he would go wil ingly to his death.
    The air was hot and humid and the walk along the winding stone hal ways seemed interminable. At last they final y approached a series of shal ow steps, which led up to a larger structure constructed from gleaming rose-colored marble. From within the building came the high-pitched sound of voices. As they ascended the steps, Harlan almost stumbled and one of the guards put a restraining hand under his elbow.
    At the top of the steps there was a wide-open space surrounded by tal columns. Harlan was marched into the center and pushed down onto his knees. The chatter of voices grew louder until it seemed to beat against his senses and mirror the frantic pounding of his heart. He forced himself to breathe deeply. If he were to die, he would do so with dignity and honor.
    “Al hail the goddess! Al hail the princess!”
    The female voices took up the cry and the line of women parted in front of him. With al his courage, Harlan forced his gaze upward to the two figures descending the remaining stairs. Both of the figures were female. It was impossible to judge their age or appearance because both wore golden masks that obscured their faces and long cloaks that swept the steps.
    The tal er of the women kept moving forward until she stood at the bottom of the steps a few feet away from Harlan.
    “What have you brought to the Temple of Freya?”
    One of the guards stepped forward and bowed. “We bring you a captured male to use as you wish.”
    Harlan tensed as the woman came closer and circled him.
    “The offering is accepted.”
    A chorus of cheers erupted, but Harlan stil wasn’t sure if he had been reprieved.
    “Have him marked in my daughter’s name and then send him to the handmaidens’ palace to prove his worth.”
    More cheering began and one of the guards tugged on the rope, forcing Harlan to his feet.
    “Wait!” he shouted.