Free Lord of Avalon by J.W. McKenna Page B

course, would
only stand like statues, forcing the girls to practice until they were
exhausted. Margeld told them their masters wouldn’t last as long, but there was
no way to tell. Better that the girls learned endurance early.
    Suddenly, Rydah grabbed Jenya’s hair with one hand, and for
a moment, she thought she had done something wrong. Then a blast of his seed
flooded her throat, causing her to choke briefly. Recovering quickly, she
inhaled through her nose and swallowed the precious fluid. She didn’t want to
risk insulting her master by spitting out his essence.
    His cock softened in her mouth. She waited until she was
sure he was spent, then allowed it to slip free. “Was that acceptable, master?”
she asked, looking up at his blissful face.
    “Oh, my yes, my slave. That was excellent. You’ve been
trained well. I’ll have to compliment your teachers.” Rydah bent down to pick
up the reins. “Now, I’d better concentrate on the road or we’ll never get
there!”
    Smiling, she straightened up, pleased that she had done
well. She noticed that the activity had aroused her as well, making her nipples
hard and her pussy wet. She wondered how long she’d have to wait until her
master wanted to breed again.
    Jenya sat, knees slightly apart, smiling to herself, as
Rydah slapped the horse’s rump with the reins and the carriage jolted forward.
The more she learned about her Lord, the more secure she felt with him. She
wondered what other little preferences he enjoyed.
    As they approached Gordax, Lord Rydah realized why he’d seen
so few of the High Lord’s men earlier. They were here instead. Groups of riders
thundered past on their way hither and yon. Twice they were stopped and
questioned. Rydah made no mention that he was Farda’s brother, only that he was
traveling to visit “relatives.” Each time, he was allowed to pass.
    His anxiety grew with each league. Clearly, the High Lord’s
men were out searching for his step-niece. Farda and Memma must be frantic with
worry.
    The main road passed directly through the heart of the
village. Squads of High Lord’s men, armed with swords and shields walked the
streets, looking grim. Villagers gave them a wide berth.
    When he turned down a side street to his brother’s house, he
was stopped once again and questioned. This time, he told them he was here to
visit Farda. The soldiers made him wait while Farda was brought forward to
vouch for him.
    Jenya, who kept her head down, received particular
attention, although none of the men touched her. That would violate the Damon’s
property rights, a serious offense. Still, they could gaze upon the naked
slave. A few of the soldiers grinned mischievously when they thought Rydah
wasn’t looking.
    Farda saluted him formally, then grasped Rydah’s arm firmly
in greeting, rare tears in his eyes. “Thank you for coming, brother,” he said
softly. He appeared to be tired and pale. Rydah was shocked to see how much he
had aged in the last few rynes . His chest had thickened, and his hair
was going gray, although his rynes totaled just thirty and eight.
    Farda walked with them back to his house. Rydah got down off
the carriage and walked beside him, leading the horse by a loose rein. They
didn’t speak, for two of Bandar’s men walked with them.
    His brother’s house, Rydah saw, was no bigger than his own,
yet his brother had three children: Symal, Memma’s daughter, and two of their
own, Rapkin and Galena. Rapkin, a boy about nine, and Galena, a girl aged
seven, were standing on the porch, on either side of Memma when they arrived.
    Rydah had met Memma just twice, but he hardly recognized her
now. She had been an outgoing, smiling, pretty girl when he’d seen her last at
his father’s house four rynes ago. Now she, like Farda, seemed pale and
drawn, worry lines etched on her face and streaks of gray in her black hair.
She wore a shapeless dress that hid her once curvy and alluring body.
    Rydah remembered how his