A Sinless Betrayal by Cherie Benjamin (books to read for 12 year olds .TXT) 📖

Waterfall's arms; and even if I did, I'd quickly be caught. I was, after all, in a barbarian kingdom. I was surrounded and I was an outcast.

My tears had dried on my face and I resorted to whimpering helplessly in the arms of the monstrous man after I had no tears left for me to let out. I had sworn not to be caught; I could not be a sex slave.

I was promised to Cordell, and that was something that I intended to keep in my heart and in my mind. We neared a huge stone castle-like building with a drawbridge over a freshwater river running through the barbarian kingdom.

Children swim in it, women wash clothes in it, and men drink and fish from it. He carries me right over it, following Three Horses with Michelle. The hall that we walk into is bustling with wealthier barbarians, ones with jewels strung around their necks instead of bones. They laughed, sitting at long rows of tables, stuffing fried legs of chickens into their greedy mouths and picking up food with their dirty hands.

As soon as the men saw Three Horses and Drinks of Waterfall, they begin to cheer loudly. "Woman! More woman!" one shouts and stands on the table, raising his cup of beer to the sky. I watch as the brown liquid sloshes in his cup and trickles down his arm.

Disgusting. Every single one of them.

I hear crying and look in front of me to see Michelle weeping on Three Horses' shoulders. She'd woken up and realized her surroundings. It made me yearn for her. I buried my face in Drinks of Waterfall's shoulder, trying to hide from the sexual comments and calls.

Three Horses lifts Michelle's skirts and bares her bottom to the crowd. She screams and kicks her legs, tears of embarrassment and shame clouding up her big brown eyes. "Stop! Stop it!"

Drinks of Waterfall laughs—hard—and follows Three Horses up the great stone staircase and into the very first room on the right. There are tons and tons of girls in the large room, some pale-faced civilians and some of Barbarian descent. He dumps me onto the floor next to a quivering girl in the corner and unties me. I scramble away from him instantly, cowering next to Michelle, who had also been untied by Three Horses.

They mumble something in their language to each other, and then they burst into laughter. The expression on Three Horses' face almost makes me want to laugh in disgust, but I'm afraid of what he'll do to me. The rest of the girls in the room look absolutely terrified.

The barbarians walk out of the room and lock the door behind them. I shoot Michelle a look. One of the civilian girls with honey-golden hair stands on her feet and walks over to my maid and I. "Another raid, I'm guessing," she frowns. "It's a shame. You seem like important ladies. Where were you from?"

I clear my throat and lick my dry lips. "Bellechester."

The blonde beauty gapes. "I didn't know they expanded over to the northwestern villages. I'm from a tiny northeastern village called York. They like attacking over there. There's a lot of wealth in those parts, and quite frankly, I don't know why I wasn't captured earlier. My father was one of the wealthiest men living in York."

She sits down in front of me, lifting her animal skin dress over her knees. She points at my dress. "You look like you met the same fate, huh?"

I frown, looking at down at myself. My red silk dress is no longer shiny and pretty; it was ripped and muddy. I groan. "Yeah. They led a raid on the worst day possible."

She extends her hand. "Hi, you two. I'm Cassandra."

I shake Cassandra's hand first. "Elizabella."

Michelle shakes Cassandra's hand second. "I'm Elizabella's maid, Michelle."

"Nice to meet you," the blonde says. "These are the ladies of the harem." She begins to point to some of the girls. "That's Evalyn, Katalina, Jane, Sulpicia, Athenodora, Didyme, Ivona, Arlena, and Camellia. There's more, but they're probably out with men right now."

She says it so nonchalantly, like being with a barbarian man is a way of life.

"It's a way of life," Evalyn murmurs, sliding her frail body up beside Cassandra's. Evalyn has short, shoulder length brown hair and sharp features. "We've been here for two years. Sometimes being a harem girl isn't so bad…but in the beginning, we all start out with bruises."

I gasp in horror. "They rape you?"

Cassandra shrugs. "More like take us when they feel like it. It's their custom to have women to bed when they feel the need—warriors get more than commoners, though. If a warrior wants to marry a harem girl, she cannot refuse."

My face reddens and I shake my head. "There's no way I'm sleeping around with a billion different beasts. I've promised myself to a man in my village!"

"He's probably dead," Evalyn comments softly. "Barbarians kill all the men they see in the villages."

A wave of nausea sweeps over me and I find myself doubled over and clutching my stomach. "I won't do it."

"Oh no!" Cassandra cries. "It's horribly insulting when a harem girl turns down a man. It's like a barbarian taboo. But don't worry—we'll do our best to teach you our customs. You have such a pretty face, and I'd hate to see it bruised."

The girls all scramble back to their dirty corners as the door opens and Three Horses stepped in with two different men. Drinks of Waterfall is absent that time.

They looked around the room. Three Horses points to me and then Michelle and the men nod in approval. Three Horses' hand gestures to the array of other women and the men go and pick their girls. The biggest, burliest one picks the smallest, frailest girl in the room. I think that Cassandra said her name was Ivona.

And the lankier, kinder looking one takes the most curvaceous woman, Didyme. Didyme is not a paleface like Cassandra and I are. The girls stand in the doorway with their men. Three Horses speaks to the men and glances over at me while speaking several times during his chat.

"Tiger Claw," Three Horses comments while staring at me, and the men laugh. "Dances With Wolves and Tiger Claw?"

The other two men nodded vigilantly. They seemed to be agreeing very strongly on something. Cassandra scoots towards me. "He's just named you Tiger Claw after your spirit. It seems that you injured Drinks of Waterfall pretty badly. He says you've got heart and spirit."

I smile at the fact that I hurt my barbarian captor but as they speak more about this other character, the dancing wolf guy, I become more intrigued. "Who's Dancing Wolf?" I ask her.

Cassandra snorts and her bright green eyes dart to where the men are standing and discussing. "You mean Dances With Wolves? That's the most important figure—you really ought to know him, Elizabella."

I stare at her. "Alright. Well, who is he?"

"The Barbarian King," she whispers. "His name is Dances With Wolves. I think that Three Horses is thinking of…oh, my."

"What?" I hiss. "What is it? What are they saying?"

Cassandra ignores me. "I've only ever been with Dances With Wolves once. He was beautiful, but he had a temper like a bull that was trapped in a red room."

"Oh," I whisper. "Cassandra, what do they speak of—"

"Cass," Three Horses croons. "Come. Ku zo nan. Wannan mutum yanã son ya kwanta ka dab da Ivona."

She gets up from her position and goes to the burlier man, clinging to his arm and purring seductively at him. I am left sitting on the ground next to Michelle, completely flabbergasted. I do not know their language and the fact that Cassandra is so willing happens to disgust me.

Three Horses looks up at me and walks over to where I am sitting. Michelle cowers back; the barbarian sneers at her before grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. "You to come wit' me."

My eyes widen as he pulls me along. I dig my bare heel into the stone floor and yank us both to a stop. Three Horses looks annoyed. "You speak the Common Tongue?"

"Not enough time to sit chat, farar fata karuwa." Three Horses hisses at me "He waits for you. You be lucky to serve him."

My eyes widen and fire runs through my veins. I yank my arm out of his grasp. He turns around in surprise and anger. "I refuse! I will not go!"

The girls in the room all gasp and everything falls silent. Before I can register, Three Horses has hit me across the face. I double over in shock and pain, clutching at my lip, which has been split open. Blood drips down to my chin.

"You do not speak wit' me like 'dat," he booms. "You do not speak like 'dat wit' your master. You kariya, you be lucky I not your master!"

I'm so dizzy from the force of his blow that I weakly follow as he grabs my arm and pulls me down the hallway. They are dark, hot, and long. I cannot see where I am going. Torches illuminate the stone walls, allowing me to see the cobwebs and blood splatters on the brick.

This place is my worst nightmare, this place is my Hell.

There's a big room across the hall, guarded by two grand doors. From under the doors, I can see the faint flickering light of a fire and hear the soft clink of wine glasses and jewels.

Three Horses knocks on the door and mumbles something else in their language to whoever was inside. A deep, smooth bass voice rumbles from inside. Three Horses pushes open the door and throws me on the ground.

I gasp, bringing my hands out before me to break my fall. A huge animal skin chair sits before the fire. I cannot see my new master's face. I can only see his giant, bronzed arm, tattooed and muscled.

Three Horses walks around the front and begins to speak with his master. "I t'ought she might please you," he says. They laugh, and Three Horses shows the superior the bag of items they had collected from my house. Intricate china plates, pots, jewels, gold, and fine silver cups. I growl in disgust.

"Out wit' you," the one in the chair says, and Three Horses is already on his way out of the door. I am still laying on the floor. I have not the strength to scramble away, but my eyes and heart are still those of a tiger and they still rage with fire.

He stands up from his chair to his towering height of almost seven feet tall and looks down at me. It's dark and I can't see his face, or how disgusted he might be with me. I push myself up to my knees and look away from him. "'Dey call you Tiger Claw," he whispers. "You know why?" I shake my head, still refusing to look at him.

"'Dey t'ink you strong." The Barbarian finishes. "Strong man need strong woman."

I hear his thundering footsteps near me. He fists his hand into my hair, and I wince, waiting for the painful yank. But it never comes. He gently turns my head towards his.

My eyes widen and I gasp. He's the most beautiful specimen of man I've ever seen. His long hair is thickly braided and hangs down to his hips. His eyes are black and his eyelashes are thick black as well, making his face look darker. He has full russet lips, a cleft in his prominent chin, and defined cheekbones that make his manly face look perfectly contoured in the firelight.

His huge finger finds my lip and touches the blood there. "How you do 'dis?" he asks me. I'm so startled that I can't find my words. I glance towards the door. "Three Horses?"

I nod, and he grits his teeth. "Bastard should beat his own whores," he grumbles as he yanks me up by my arm.

I stand in front of him weakly, uncomfortable