Scion: House of Bardin by Miriam Newman
Dark Castle Lords
Scion is the story of Caius and Lela, master and
slave on the planet Thelona. Sold into
sexual slavery by her own father, Lela is weary and jaded. Caius, returned to the life of the idle rich
after eight exciting years in the Mercenary Corps, seeks only a night’s
pleasure. When he buys Lela on the
public square, neither of them expects what happens next.
EXCERPT:
The girl had sixteen
years by Danaali’s sun. That age would
be slightly more on some planets, a bit less on others, but by any estimation
she had reached the age of flowering.
Her skin was the color of milk from the nonnis she herded for her
father, her hair was blue-black and shiny and her eyes were a clear, startling
blue offset by coal-black lashes. Her
features were pert, with a slightly uptilted nose, full lips the color of
berries and a sweetly rounded chin. The
marble column of her throat led to perfectly formed shoulders and delicate
collar bones visible beneath her youthful, supple skin. Her breasts had ripened. She was untouched…perfect. She was worth a fortune.
“Sixteen latares,” the slave trader said.
“Twenty.” Lela’s
father had two sons and both needed armament.
“She’s a virgin.”
“So they all
say. Prove it, if you want your price.”
Admon gestured to his wife, standing in a dark corner of
the elongated hovel that sheltered their family of five. The thatch leaked, the wattle and daub walls
were chinked and drafty for want of time and materials to patch them. Perhaps, if Lela brought enough, that might
be remedied.
Admon glared at the
girl’s mother, who had not moved. “Bring oil if you do not want her hurt.”
The girl stood immobile as her parents and the slaver
approached. It was a test of her mettle,
she told herself as she stood, quaking.
She knew it was only the first of the indignities she would suffer so
that her brothers might live. Her mother
had told her what to expect.
The man was quick, at least. He turned to her father, wiping his
hands. “Eighteen.”
“Twenty for a virgin.
It’s always twenty.”
“Times are hard.
Eighteen.”
“Done.” Lela’s
father sealed her fate.
Her mother handed the cringing girl a gown, sheltering
her while Lela dropped the gray homespun over her head. A graceless dress, but she had never been so
grateful for it, shuddering within its warmth.
Unbidden, she picked up her shoes and stockings from the bench where
they had been laid. She was shaking so
hard she could barely put them on, but she knew she must, and quickly. Money was already changing hands.
Her mother knew it, too.
Ellendra gently slid two tooled leather ornaments into the girl’s silky
hair, securing them with a final pat. To
the men, it looked like a tender parting.
“One segment only, each time you must,” her mother
whispered, pulling Lela close. “Give
them no more slaves.”
The girl nodded, biting her lip. Her brothers were elsewhere, shamed by her
sacrifice. She had bidden them farewell
the previous night. There was no point
in leave-taking from her father, who had withdrawn his affection years before,
knowing that she would be sold. She
looked only into her mother’s seamed and weathered face, stroking her cheek for
a last time.
“Be well, my mother.”
The slaver shifted from foot to foot and Ellendra glanced
at him hopelessly. “Where will they take
her?”
“Thelona,” he answered.
“It’s a rich planet. She will
have a good life.” He had said it to a
thousand mothers.
Admon cleared his throat, addressing his daughter. “Your name will be honored in this family.”
Lela picked up the
satchel containing her few belongings and walked of her own volition to the
slaver. She could still feel oil between
her thighs and the violation of his probing.
“This family has no honor,” she said.
