THE CAPTIVE

by Rue Chapman

Camlin kept her eyes closed. If they didn't know she was awake she might hear something useful.

The taste of failure and betrayal was bitter. Oh yes, she'd hear something useful, and she'd miraculously escape from the shackles, make her way unscathed through the Citadel, past the guards teeming through every corridor, escape under the noses of her deadliest enemies, out into a city full of people who'd line up for the chance to kill her on sight. And then just a few hundred miles of open plain with no cover and no way to travel, up to a mountain range with rock faces so sheer and jagged that they seemed to shred the sky. And then she'd be almost safe.

No, if she managed to escape the restraints her only chance of escape was to find the nearest guard and run onto his sword.

She lay still, hating them. Hating the ones who'd betrayed her like this. Men with no honour. What could you expect from false-king Tor and his foul brother?

Arbrec, Prince of the Realm, glanced at the still figure strapped to the bench. He studied her for a moment, then turned to his brother. "She's been out for too long. They must have given her too much."

King Tor shook his head. "She's been awake for the last ten minutes."

Camlin opened her eyes to glare at her enemies. Both brothers were tall and broad, making the cell seem even smaller as they loomed over her. Thick blonde hair glittered golden in the dancing light of the torches on the walls. Armour gleamed coldly - and two pairs of dark blue eyes even colder. Her own eyes were the same deep midnight blue, glittering almost black with hatred now. "I came to you under the flag of truce. You have no honour."

"We guaranteed your safety. And you're quite safe here, nobody can get to you." Tor waved a careless hand at the cold stone of the dungeon walls. His lips curled in a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"My people will know you've broken your word. No treaty will ever be made with you, no other ruler will ever trust you. By killing me you've destroyed this kingdom, and your dynasty."

Tor reached out touched her hair, running a long strand through his fingers. "It's like black silk, isn't it. Lovely. And, my dear little viper, we're not going to kill you."

Camlin tossed her head, trying to evade his touch. "Keeping me prisoner will amount to the same thing. I came here in good faith to negotiate - you gave me your word on the Blood. A sacred oath."

Arbrec's laugh was forced and angry. "Why would we negotiate with a rebel?"

"My troops hold the northern passes, without those trade routes overland you're totally dependent on the sea. On Kathlian ships. And Kathlia is a dangerous neighbour for a weakened country. You have to negotiate with me or there'll be a Kathlian flag flying over the Citadel before next harvest."

Tor stepped back, his face hard. "The negotiation's over. You lost."

Camlin fought to keep from showing fear. She'd faced death time without number since the troubles began. She could barely remember the first ten years of her life, free and happy in a bright land with no cloud on the horizon. Then came twelve years of dreary, grinding conflict that ended her childhood and stole her youth. She'd come to the truce talks, as her grandfather and uncle had before her, hoping for some way to resolve the bitter dispute. She knew she was safe, the word of a king was his worth, and to break it like this would destroy Tor's standing, lose him respect from neighbouring kingdoms and void all treaties. He'd only been king for two years, the neighbouring kingdoms had little cause to trust him yet - and this would finish him forever. She still couldn't believe he'd do something so stupid and desperate. "My grandfather was the eldest son of a king. The throne was his by right."

"And MY grandfather was the only legitimate son. Bastards have no claim." Tor almost spat the words at her. "Your family are like a nest of snakes poisoning this kingdom, weakening us and destroying everything you touch. But you're the last little viper, aren't you."

"Your father tried to exile us! He had no right to attack us like that! We had to fight for our survival."

"Your grandfather was trying to get support from the north to lay claim to the throne. We had no choice."

She'd heard all the arguments, round and round, all her life. Mistrust between the two bloodlines, vying for public support, quiet deals with neighbouring countries. And all it meant was war, and death. Other young girls bought pretty dresses and had their hair done - she was being fitted for armour and learning to wield a sword. Other young girls went to grand balls and flirted with handsome young men. She buried her family, one by one, and gave orders to a ragtag army of rebels and malcontents who saw a new regime as a way to claw a path up the ladder of success.

"You lied to me."

Arbrec's voice was harsh. "Rebels don't deserve to be treated with honour."

Tor waved him to silence. "We said you wouldn't be harmed. You haven't been, and you won't be. We said you're free to go when our talks are finished, and you are. But you won't want to go."

Camlin strained against the bonds holding her on the rough wooden bench. "Prove it. Undo these and see what I do."

"In a moment. There's one more part of the... negotiation. And then you're free to do whatever you want."

The two men looked up as a small procession entered the dim chamber. A guard deposited a glowing brazier in a corner of the cell, the next man had tray of equipment, small pots of herbs, and odd pieces of twisted metal that rattled as he placed the tray on a table near the brazier. The last guard had a bowl of glowing crystals, carrying it with stiff-armed care. He knew their power. The guards left as the last man entered, his long white hair and grey robes proclaiming him as a healer and mystic.

Camlin stiffened, preparing herself for whatever torments they planned for her. All she could do now was to endure with dignity and courage. And pray that someday, somehow, she'd get the chance to take her revenge.

Tor smiled his mirthless grin again. "Mage Tethin has developed a new treatment for rebels. For the very special ones, at least. A way to clear their minds and help them become more... amenable. More reasonable."

The old man was muttering to himself as he set up his equipment, assembling the metal into two stands, placing one on each side of her head. Then he carefully set pile of crystals in the top of each stand. "Your Majesty, I'll need just a little time to tune the crystals and get a reading on her. But I have to remind you, I did say there'd be difficulties, and some danger."

"We're prepared to take the risk." Tor watched as the girl on the table twisted her head from side to side, trying to avoid the glow of the stones each side of her.

Camlin didn't feel anything, no blinding pain, no waves of terror, just a gentle heat as the mystic muttered to himself and stared into another crystal held in his hands. "Majesty, she's very strong. Her emotions towards you are intense - it's pure hatred."

"Is it too strong to overcome?"

"Oh, on the contrary, the power of the emotion will make the effect stronger, for a time. But I must remind you, it won't be permanent."

"It doesn't need to be. Just long enough to end the rebellion."

Camlin hated the way they spoke as if she wasn't there. Or didn't matter. If he really did mean to release her, as promised, then nothing would stop her from holding the northern passes, keeping the kingdom in a stranglehold until Tor and his vile family were starved out of power. Even Kathlia would be better than this.

Arbrec surveyed her as she lay helpless. "It's a great sacrifice you're going to make, brother. I'm prepared to do duty in your place."

"I'd be happy to let you do it, the thought of touching that creature sickens me. But it has to be me, to convince her supporters. I'll close my eyes and think of Torenia."

The mystic began to chant, throwing pinches of herbs into the brazier. Heavy smoke began to fill the room.

Camlin twisted in her bonds. "So it's rape now? You'd sink that low?"

Both men had the same expression now, a smile that was almost a snarl, a glow of savage victory. "It won't be rape, my sweet poison. You'll come to me with a smile, you'll beg for my touch. Our union will end the conflict between the two branches of the family."

"UNION! I'd take cold steel through the heart before I smile at you. You can't do this!" The heavy smoke and the insistent chanting was making her head throb, her thoughts seemed to be slowing.

Tor was enjoying himself now, watching the fear she couldn't hide. "The mage has a very special talent. He can reach into your mind and take your emotions, and twist them around. Make some small alterations. So hate will become love. By the time he's finished you'll remember that you came to negotiate a truce, and that we met, and talked, and..." His hand circled her ankle, then slowly trailed up towards her knee. "And it took only one look for us to fall in love. A love that will unite us, and bring peace to our country. We're going to be VERY passionately in love..." The mage chanted louder. Tor's hand moved higher, moving under the short uniform tunic she wore, the mark of a warrior. His fingers were teasing the soft skin of her inner thigh. "We won't be able to hide our joy, and our love for each other. You'll beg to be in my arms every moment, you'll plead for my touch. You'll take me to your bed every chance you get. Preparations for our joining ceremony are underway already. Tonight you'll sleep in my arms, my pretty little viper, and you'll perform every act I request of you. I'm going to use your body any way I desire. And you'll beg me for more."

Camlin couldn't move, she was frozen in horror at his words. Already there was a heavy mist in her mind, she was fighting it but it was so strong... and Tor's words were like ice in her heart. She forced herself to speak. "You can't do this. It's - there's no honour in it. You can't - you can't take me like that, I don't agree, I'll never agree!" Her voice rose in panic. "I'll break free of it! And I'll curse you with every breath I take, for eternity!" His hand on her thigh added to the panic, he was touching her as if he had a right to take what he wanted. She shivered.

There were no smiles now. His hand stilled. "You and all of your bastard bloodline have almost destroyed this kingdom. MY kingdom. And I will do whatever it takes to protect my land and its people. WHATEVER it takes. This union will heal the rift and we'll be able to move on and rebuild. And by the time you break through the mage's work it will be too late for you to do any more damage."

Arbrec nodded, sneering. "Men are prepared to lay down their lives in battle to protect their country. You just have to lay down."

Camlin moaned. "Don't do this! P..please, please don't - I can't - I won't - this is evil!"

"This is necessary." Tor's voice was harsh above the chanting. "And it's almost done. A little viper like you, a slut from a bastard line, you'll probably enjoy it a lot more than I do."

The chanting paused as the mage added new crystals to the piles each side of her. "Majesty, I must remind you that for the changes to last as long as possible you will need to be very convincing. You'll need to keep her believing in the false emotions even when her true feelings start to break through."

"Oh, I'll be convincing. I'll be the perfect, loving husband to my sweet deadly bitch of a wife."

The mage threw more herbs onto the brazier, "I don't know how long this will last. The emotion is incredibly strong - she'll feel her love for you very deeply, but her true nature may return at any time."

Tor kept his eyes on Camlin, speaking to her as well as the mage. "It'll last long enough to get her wedded and bedded. Once she's my wife she's subject to me in all things. And if she's too hard to handle when her true nature returns - well, Queens have been beheaded before. Or had an unfortunate fall down the stairs, perhaps. All I need is enough time to get control of her troops. Then she's expendable."

The mage nodded and started chanting again.

Camlin writhed on the table as the chanting grew louder. "You won't get away with this!"

"Who can stop me?"

"People won't believe it! The truth will get out! They won't let this happen!"

"It's already done. Everyone thinks we've fallen in love at first sight. And nobody knows the truth about this but my personal guard - loyal beyond death; the mage; and my brother. And you. And none of us is going to tell. And you won't be able to."

Camlin cried out, once, a shrill thread of despair. And then the mists closed over her mind.


A light breeze stirred the curtains, the fine sheer fabric fluttering in the soft breeze. Camlin stirred and rolled over, the silken sheets soft against her skin. A young maid bustled into the room, "Now, my lady, his Majesty said you were to get all the rest you needed, it's going to be a busy day."

Camlin laughed and sprang out of bed. "Oh, he did, did he? Well he can just think again. If he imagines I'm going to lie around sleeping on my wedding day he's sadly mistaken! I want a warm bath, with plenty of scented oils, and then I'll need you to help me with my hair, and there's my gown to be made ready, and gilt sandals, and flowers, and... a thousand things! How like a man to want to keep me in bed when I have so much to do!"

The maid gave a sly grin. "I think he'll be keeping you abed even more after the ceremony, my lady."

Camlin blushed and giggled. She couldn't wait for the evening, for the first night she'd spend in Tor's arms. It was like a magical dream, for the two of them to fall in love like this. It was so perfect. She spun in a circle on the rich carpet, laughing, "I'm the luckiest girl in the kingdom! I can't wait for the ceremony! Now, fetch my attendants, we have so much work to do! It's my wedding day!"


Camlin paused at the doors to the Great Hall, then took a deep breath and stepped forward. The wedding had begun.

Faces, so many faces. Some smiling, some carefully blank, some glowering with a hatred that would probably never die. Civil wars are always the most vicious.

Camlin's fingers curled tightly around the flowers she carried. Red and gold. The red of her family's crest, the gold of his. United at last. She walked towards her true love, waiting for her at the far end of the huge, crowded Hall.

Camlin's mother had told her, many years before, that the most wonderful and the most dangerous thing in the world, was love. Generations ago King Toren had loved. He fell in love with a commoner, a woman with no noble blood in her. The law forbade them to marry, but they loved and had a son. For ten years the boy was raised as a prince. And hopes were raised - more than one king had borne the bar sinister on his coat of arms. It could happen again - he was a vigorous and healthy child, son of a king, loved and petted, indulged by his fond father and encouraged to be a prince in but name.

Step, pause, step, pause...

But then the kingdom was threatened by powerful neighbours, and alliances had to be made. A treaty with Kathlia would secure a powerful ally - and stop a possible invasion by their land-greedy neighbour. And with the treaty came a Kathlian princess, to be the new Torenian queen. And she had a son. The base-born lover and her bastard son were pushed aside, duty took precedence over love. And the legitimate heir took precedence too. He was a sickly child; every illness gave hope to the supplanted prince, now just the king's bastard with no hope of ruling. But the true prince survived, and grew old enough to marry - another treaty marriage, another foreign queen - while his half-brother watched and waited and plotted. Two king's sons, one pure Torenian, vigorous and noble in all but birth. The other half-Kathlian, married to a Verulan princess, sickly and feeble - but legitimate.

The trumpets sounding loud over the hush of the crowd, Camlin stepped in time with the stately rhythm...

In time King Toren joined his ancestors and his son - his legitimate son - ruled. The other had been given the title of Duke, he'd wed a Torenian noblewoman and raised fine strong pure-blood Torenian sons. The new king and his Verulan queen also had sons. And, as often happens, despite his poor health he lived a long life while his eldest son made yet another treaty marriage - another Kathlian princess - and had sons who had the solid build and golden hair of their Kathlian mother and great-grandmother, the only sign of Torenian heritage their midnight blue eyes. And the Duke's grandchildren were all pure Torenian - raven-black hair and those same dark eyes. And always there were the whispers that a pure Torenian king would be better than one with almost no Torenian blood in him - blood was more important than legitimacy. Plots simmered, always there was unease as the Duke became more kingly, and the king's power dwindled with the loss of respect from his subjects.

So many eyes, watching her...

And then the king finally joined the ancestors, and his son's first act as king, just minutes after his coronation, was to issue a writ of exile on his half-uncle. Finally he'd be able to take control of the kingdom without that constant threat. The Duke left the coronation under guard, to be escorted from the kingdom. One hour later the guards were wearing the Duke's livery, new banners were unfurled, and the civil war began. The new king reigned for ten years, and never knew a single day of peace. The civil war tore the country apart.

Such a long way to her true love, he looked so remote, so far away...

After ten years the king fell in battle and his son Tor took the throne. And for two more years he fought on grimly, watching the destruction of his kingdom. And now the Great Hall was packed with nobles, and many commoners too, who watched the war finally end as a marriage was made.

Tor, her love, soon her husband...

Camlin thought of all the loss that brought them to this day. Her father had fallen early in the war, her mother died of fever during a siege a few years later. Three brothers, and twice as many cousins, all gone one by one. Her grandfather watched as all his heirs fell, his dreams of a dynasty disappearing into the cold ground. At last all that was left was one grand-daughter. And Tor had lost just as many in his family. So much grief because of folly, and ambition.

Step by step...

Moving slowly, loving the feeling of the long silk dress brushing against her as she moved. For twelve years she'd worn breeches or armour, her grandfather was a firm believer in the old tradition that Torenian women should be trained in the arts of war. Women were expected to defend the home when their men were away, and it wasn't unknown for them to ride into battle. Camlin had seen her share of fighting - she'd spent her growing years on battlefields. This was her first gown, her first time to glory in herself as a woman. She could feel Tor's eyes on her, she hoped she pleased him. The cream satin glowed under the torchlight, the gold and red flowers in her hands were a splash of brave colour. A coronet of gold, studded with diamonds and rubies, circled her brow. Camlin smiled at her love and kept stepping slowly towards her greatest joy.

Faces watched as she passed - some set in the glare of a hatred that would never cool. Some smiling in joy as they watched their leader, their lady, finally achieving the position her blood deserved. But most were simply glad to see an end to twelve grinding years of a balancing act. Some families sent a son to each side so that whatever happened the family survived; some changed allegiance as fortunes waxed and waned; some simply tried to keep out of it all as much as possible. But when word went out that the war had ended, and the peace would begin with a wedding, then all the noble houses rushed to show their loyalty - now that loyalty was safe.

Step... step... closer...

Arbrec leaned close to his brother. "The wedding night shouldn't be too difficult, she's easy on the eye."

"If I can bear to touch her without being sick to my stomach." Tor smiled at the girl as she paced slowly towards him.

"Remember what the mage told you - you have to keep her false reality alive or her true memories will return. You have to be the perfect, loving husband." Arbrec grinned. "The perfect lover. Smile while you embrace the little viper. It won't be forever, just until she tells us all we need to know. And we get control of her forces."

Tor smiled sweetly at the girl as she moved slowly towards him. "First the wedding, then the wedding night. I wonder how long I have to wait before I can get the information we want."

Arbrec chuckled. "I'd wait at least until the second morning. Remember, you also have to convince all her supporters that she's in a happy marriage."

"Maybe she can have a sadly fatal accident before the honeymoon's over."

"Keep thinking happy thoughts."

She was close now, her eyes shining as she smiled. They stood together in front of the assembled nobility, solidly respectable burghers from the city and whatever commoners could slip into the building. His golden head bent over her dark one as they said the words of love and binding for all to witness. Finally he leaned down to kiss her lips, so gently, and the binding was done. Arbrec stepped forward, proclaiming loudly, "TORENIA HAS A NEW QUEEN!"

Wild cheering threatened to lift the roof. The war was over.

Camlin was in a happy daze - the kiss! It was perfect. She was still trembling from that sweet touch as she stood at her new husband's side. She was the luckiest woman in the world.

Tor felt her hand curling into his. He'd do anything to end this war and save his shattered kingdom, even if it meant bedding this little traitor.

The wedding celebrations followed the traditional pattern, only far more lavish as befits a king and queen. Feasting, dancing, music. The usual bawdy jokes, the usual blushing maidens as they laughed at those jokes. Camlin stayed close to her new husband, enjoying every brush of his hand against her arm, feeling the tension rising in her as the evening drew on.

At last Tor - darling Tor - drew her to his side, and led her towards the archway that led to the royal apartments. The crowd's laughter was raucous now, as they paused in the doorway. There was one more part of the ceremony, tiny but symbolic. Tor knelt in front of his bride, and kissed her hand - to show that he would always serve her. Camlin ran her fingers through his bright gold hair, then nodded to accept his loving duty. Then as he stood up and they turned to go he leaned back and swatted the seat of her gown, three times - to show that he would also rule, his wife, his queen, and the kingdom. The crowd cheered as the newlyweds disappeared.

Camlin held tightly to Tor's hand as he led her through the corridors to their chambers. She could feel the tingling from those swats. She was expecting it, it was a normal part of every wedding ceremony, but she'd never realised how they would feel. A warm glow seemed to spread from that tiny spanking, a glow that reached some way past the area he'd swatted. She wanted... well, she wasn't sure what she wanted, but she knew she REALLY wanted it.

Then they were at their chambers, the carved door swinging wide. Her husband - husband, what a wonderful word! - her loving husband led her inside. A flurry of giggling maids were shooed out by Tor, and they were finally alone. For their wedding night.


Their bridal chamber was rich with hangings, in red and gold. Flower petals were strewn over the ivory silk sheets, their perfumes heavy in the air.

Camlin twirled in the centre of the room, holding her skirts wide, enjoying the way the layers of silk and satin floated around her, "Wasn't it a wonderful ceremony?" She turned to Tor, her eyes bright with pure joy. "Wasn't it all so perfect?"

He smiled. "Absolutely perfect."

"And you are the most handsome, most wonderful man in the whole kingdom! I love you so much." She ran to him and hugged him, then twirled around the room again. "And isn't this gown beautiful?"

"Lovely."

"It's the first gown I've ever had! I'm going to keep it always." Camlin hummed a tune that the musicians had played that night.

"You've had dresses before, surely." Tor gave a cursory glance around the chamber, it would be acceptable, for the short time he had to put up with her.

"No, the fighting started when I was ten. I've been in breeches, tunics and armour since then. This gown is so beautiful, I never want to wear armour again!"

Tor turned away so that she couldn't see his sneer. She obviously hadn't even been raised as a proper woman, let alone a lady of noble blood.

Camlin ran to him again, holding him close and reaching up to press a kiss to his lips. "Have I told you how much I love you?"

"Oh, I know just how much." Tor forced a smile. "My feelings are just as strong, believe me."

Camlin kissed him again, then stepped back and smiled again, a little nervously. "Tor, I - um - what happens now?"

"You don't know?"

"Well, yes, of course I know. Sort of. But not... not the details. I mean - well, what do you want me to do now?"

"What do you usually do?"

Camlin's smile slipped. "I - I've never... I haven't..."

"You're a virgin?" Tor was incredulous. He'd never imagined she'd be pure in any way.

She backed away from him, tears gathering in her eyes. "Tor? What - have I said something wrong? I'm sorry, I just don't know what you want. I - I'll do whatever you want."

Tor reminded himself that he had to be the world's best actor for the next few days, at least. He smiled lovingly. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you." He held his arms out to Camlin and she ran into them, clinging to him, craving the love and security there. He kissed her, soft and gentle, then held her tightly as she snuggled against him. "Don't worry, I know exactly what to do. I'll take care of you very well."

Camlin sighed happily. She felt so safe and loved in his arms.

Tor released her. "Right. Now we have a lot of work to do."

"We do?"

"Yes. I have to get you out of that lovely gown without, apparently, damaging it too much. Then I have to adore every inch of you. Then I'm going to give you a proper, traditional wife-spanking, to show you who's the master in this relationship. Then I'm going to love you until you can barely move or breathe, then I'll spank you and love you all over again. Does that sound good to you?"

Camlin was still for a moment, then she smiled slowly. "It doesn't sound too bad. If I get to strip you. Fair's fair."

"Well, if you're a very good girl I just might let you." Tor was surprised, he was actually enjoying this. Not because he'd beaten a hated enemy, but because, just for a moment, he'd found himself liking the girl. Not that any of this was real, of course.



© Rue Chapman

Not to be reposted, reproduced or distributed, in part or whole.