The Warrior Rearmed by Sharon Green

Author:Sharon Green [Green, Sharon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780879978952
Google: 5yOBB_7nD3IC
Publisher: Sharon Green Books
Published: 1984-09-15T05:47:55+00:00

CHAPTER 7

Dallan, the monster, refused to allow me time to brood or dwell on should-have-beens. I had been banded as his and would think only of him, or at least that's what I was told. I wanted to lie still and ask the unanswering air why Tammad had never gone through the rite of five-banding the way Dallan had, but my new owner had other ideas. I lay curled on my left side, facing away from him, but suddenly found myself being pulled over onto my back so the l'lenda above me might look at me more easily. Angrily I struck at his face with both fists, expecting the useless gesture to be ignored as usual, suddenly shocked when my blows landed against his nose and in his right eye, sending him back with a shout of surprised pain. I sat up quickly with both hands to my mouth, horrified at what I had done, watching as he sat and cradled his eye and nose in his hands, a disbelieving tinge to his thoughts. When he finally looked over at me I was already edging away across the carpet fur, about five feet from him. I squeaked in alarm when he began crawling after me with dark determination in his thoughts, but shifting to crawling myself didn't do more than delay the inevitable. As fast as I crawled, he crawled faster, finally getting close enough to put a big hand on my ankle. I cried out when he caught me, wishing I'd gotten to my feet and run instead of crawling like an infant, but I knew why I hadn't. As big as he was on all fours he was still bigger upright, and somehow I thought it would go harder for me if I was caught with both of us erect. How true that was I'd never know; it was hard enough on all fours.

Dallan wasn't anywhere near furiously angry, but that didn't mean I had the nerve to struggle when he caught me. I shook my head desperately when he pulled me back to him, wishing I could say it had been an accident, wishing I could say it was his fault for not protecting himself. I was trying to think of something I could say, afraid to imagine what he would do to me, wasting time picturing those big fists crashing into my body or face. I call imagining being severely beaten that way a waste of time simply because with l'lendaa such as Dallan it was. There are worse things they can do to punish insolence, and Dallan chose one of them.

With very little effort I was draped over his knees, but I wasn't held down. I felt the ridiculously tiny silk skirt being lifted away, my bottom was patted, and then the first smack came. I jumped at the sting and writhed in humiliation, feeling so miserable I wanted to cry. Dallan knew there was no need to hold me down, that I didn't have the nerve to try getting away, but that wasn't the reason why I wasn't being restrained.

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