Charlotte Boyett-Compo - WindWarrior

WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

New Concepts Publishing

www.newconceptspublishing.com

Copyright 2009 by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

NOTICE: This eBook is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution to any person via email, floppy disk, network, print out, or any other means is a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. This notice overrides the Adobe Reader permissions which are erroneous. This eBook cannot be legally lent or given to others.

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WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

CONTENTS

* * * *

WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

By

Charlotte Boyett-Compo

copyright by Charlotte Boyett-Compo, April 2009

Cover Art by Alex DeShanks, April 2009

ISBN 978-1-60394-293-5

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author's imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

The war had been going on for decades with no end in sight and in Geddyn the dead outnumbered the living. To the west, the country of Merrimuid lay in ruins with no signs of life except for the carrion crows circling the devastation. To the north, the hills and valleys of Bassoil were a wasteland of charred huts and villages, the earth scorched. Along the eastern border, war-weary refugees poured into Treischt with their meager belongings, their starving animals, and their hollow-eyed children too weak to make a sound. Ragged shelters, lean-tos, and torn tents had sprung up overnight in the capitol city of Ghraihtaxing the charity of the already overburdened inhabitants.

However, what one had, they all shared until it was gone. One mother did not fill her baby's belly so another mother's infant would die of hunger. The female citizens of Ghraih worked together to keep one another alive while their men folk fought the encroaching threat from the souththe feared Tarryns led by the demon Deklyn Yn Baase, Laird of Droghgheay, the Black Baron of the WindWarrior Clan. A curfew had been imposed in Ghraih for it was feared the Tarryns had sent warriors to inspect the defenses of the city. No woman was safe after the sun went down and only those who had an emergency reason for being on the streets or those who used their bodies to survive were out and about. Either was considered fair game to the invaders.

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WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"Well, what do we have here?" he asked, reaching out to catch her arm as she hurried past. "What are you doing out so late of a night, tarrishagh?" She could smell the liquor on his breath and tried to pull her arm free. "Let me pass, milord. Please."

"Come into the light and let me see you, dearling," he insisted, his words slurred.

His brogue was that of the invading troop, driving fear deep into her gut.

"I'm not a prostitute," she said, twisting her arm now in an effort to get free. "I work at the hospital and...."

"She'll do, my brother," another male voice said. "I don't have to look at her face to take my pleasure of her."

"Watch your tongue," the first man said. He backed her up against the wall, pinning her there with his muscular body.

"How 'bout a kiss, tarrishagh? Can I have at least that much of your sweetness?"

Though she tried to evade his kiss, he dipped his head and slanted his mouth over hers, his tongue probing hotly at lips she kept tightly pressed together. That seemed to amuse him. He raised his head, squinting to see her face in the shadows of the alley. "You taste of cherries," he told her. She put her hands to his chest and pushed, pleading with him. "Milord, please. There are plenty of women available to you. Please, let me go."

"Never," he said, grinding his lower body against her. The press of his erection frightened her even more. She struggled against him but she was no match for his strength. 6

WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"She's a whore," the other man said. "It's just a matter of agreeing to her price." He reached down to drag the skirt of her gown up.

"No!" she hissed, beginning to fight him in earnest as his fingertips touched the bare flesh of her thigh.

"Stop that," her captor said, batting his companion's hand away. "I want another kiss, pretty one." She tried to knee him in the groin yet that only made him laugh as he wedged himself between her thighs, trapping her legs to either side of his.

Straining to get away from him, she heard him laugh, and before she knew what he was doing, she was hanging over his shoulder with his arm like an iron band clamping her legs together.

"Help!" she screamed. "Help, me!" Nevertheless, no one came to her rescue as her abductor took her deeper into the alley and through a door his companion opened. The room was dark. It smelled of gunpowder, and when she was lowered to a soft mattress, she bucked, trying to scramble away.

"Oh, no, you don't," he laughed, grabbing her ankle and dragging her beneath him. He pinned her down with his heavier weight between her legs, his fingers tight around her wrists as he pressed her hands to either side of her head. "I just want a kiss. Nothing more. You taste so good." Once more, his mouth covered hers, his tongue sweeping over her closed lips. The second man struck a match and the smell of sulfur filled the air. She blinked against the harsh 7

WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

intrusion of light that hurt her night-adapted eyes as he put the flame to an oil lantern. Golden light filled the small room.

"Ah, she is exquisite, Reese," the man above her said in a soft, awed voice. His eyes roamed over her face.

"What difference does that make? She's a cunt to be used so use her."

"No," the man staring down at her said. "She is an angel to be cherished."

For a long moment, she stared at her attacker. It was a handsome, boyish face with a deep cleft in the chin, and smiling lips that she beheld. His teeth were white and even, his nose straight. Long, thick lashes fanned over dark eyes that were filled with merriment. Broad shoulders bracketed a strong-looking neck. He did not bear the common traits of a Tarryn trooper. This man was nobility.

She tried appealing to that nobility.

"Please, milord, I am not a whore," she said, her bottom lip quaking.

He let go of her left wrist and laid his palm to her cheek, caressing her tenderly. "I am sure you are not, tarrishagh," he whispered. "And I am no rapist. I just want a few moments of your time to ease my loneliness." He tilted his head to one side. "Is that too much to ask?" She was mesmerized by the sheer male beauty of his face and the press of his heavy body was doing strange things to hers. There was a clenching in her belly as he smiled gently at her, stroking the backs of his fingertips down the side of her face, sweeping the pad of his thumb over her lips. 8

WindWarrior

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

"So beautiful," he said. "The most beautiful woman I've seen in years."

He lowered his head to claim her lips once more and this time he coaxed her into opening her mouth to him. His warm tongue slid between her lips to stroke hers. The feel of it was so heady she felt the breath leaving her lungs on a long sigh.