His eyes were closed, but Livia understood that Horn was closely watching her. Involuntarily, the girl shrank into a lump, feeling him, albeit affectionate, but, nevertheless, the look of a man. And with the pleasure and undisguised interest, Horn looked at the girl.

She was gorgeous! Thick long hair, cast in copper in the light of the fire, fell on a thin stream, but not at all skinny shoulders. Thin graceful hands with smooth velvety skin slightly touched by tan. Any aristocrat would envy such hands. The calm, slightly shy look of big green ones, like emeralds, attracted the eyes like a magnet. To his surprise, Horn did not notice fear in them, only a slight embarrassment at the gaze of the young man.

“Put it on,” the young man threw her his cloak to her, “You're all trembling.”

Having picked up a piece of venison with a sculpted stick, he handed it to his slave. Livia shot Gorne a surprised look. No one has ever allowed her to touch food before her master is satisfied. It was against the rules.

- No, no, master! - she shook her head, - I am - just an insignificant slave! I...

“Eat, slave,” Gorn replied with a smile. “Don't argue.” From the rumbling in your belly around us all the wolves of this forest will soon gather.

He pulled a piece of gray peasant bread out of his bag, broke it in two pieces and handed one to the girl. The slave eagerly dug into the meat with her sharp teeth and rhythmically pushed her jaws.

- cooked? - asked the young man.

- Oh, yes, master, - the girl nodded, - Only salt is not enough.

“What there is,” Gorn picked up a large piece from the pot and also began to eat the evening meal.

When he was full, he took a sip from a round jar lined with leather, and relaxedly fell off to a tree. Livia froze in anticipation of the order, but for some reason he did not follow. Then, picking up the pot, she went to a small stream that murmured not far from their parking lot, and began to rub it, cleaning it from grease and soot.

Carry around for at least an hour, the girl returned to the fire.

“Good slave,” said Horn with a smile, “Raised.”

- Thank you, master, - Livia bowed her head.

“Get me warm,” the young man threw open his goat fur cape, which he was wrapping in, “The night is cold.” I'm frozen.

The girl slipped into the saving warmth and pressed herself against the master's broad chest, clasping his hands and laying her head on her shoulder. Her thin tunic torn in several places, which barely covered a slender young body, did not save from the cold at all, and the slave with undisguised pleasure enjoyed the warmth exuded by the strong body of her new owner.

Stretching her bare legs, she hid them under the skin. Soon, a shiver passed, replaced by a pleasant bliss of nourishing dinner and warmth, which Libya did not even dare to dream. She suddenly felt Gorn embrace her tenderly and pull her closer to her.

“Are you warm, girl?” He asked quietly.

“My name is Livia, lord,” the slave whispered.

“I know,” Gorn touched the metal hoop around the slave’s neck, “Your name is written there.” And what was the name of your former owner?

“Count Sebastian Lazar, lord,” the girl said through her teeth with a large amount of anger.

“A familiar name,” said the young man, “Then this nit still tramples our land.”

- Yes, sir, - Livia felt that she was falling asleep.

“Sleep, slave,” Horn stroked the girl's hair, “We will need more strength.” The path is far and not at all safe.

Glade gradually tightened viscous thick fog, shrouding everything around with a damp sticky veil.The fire was almost out, but the young man, not wanting to disturb the sleeping fugitive, did not throw up the brushwood.

“Let's not freeze,” he decided, enjoying the warmth that emanated from the body of the slave.

Covering his eyes, he tried to take a nap, but as soon as he closed his eyes, the ruthless memory with ruthless precision began to draw pictures of the past in his mind where there was no place for good and love. They were replaced by blood, tears, betrayal and deception. Ears cut shrill cries and moans, pleading for help, death sighs. The horn quivered and opened his eyes again. But the gloom of the night forest and the rustle of leaves gradually calmed him down.

Only shortly before dawn he managed to get some sleep. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to find that the girl had disappeared. The horn quickly jumped to its feet and looked around. The hand itself lay on the hilt of a long, heavy sword. His sensitive ears caught the slightest rustling. Here along the path ran a hedgehog in his morning business, so the squirrel slipped into the hollow.

“Ran away, devil,” muttered Horn, annoyed.

He did not understand why he was doing this, he went to a small waterfall, which he noticed yesterday. A vague hope that it was there that he would find the fugitive made Horn wade through the thickets of the prickly dogrose. Soon he came out on a small lawn in front of a lake, hollowed out by a falling water stream, and stopped, hiding in the branches of hazel.

Livia was standing very close to the lake and slowly combed her hair with her long fingers. She flexed back gracefully when she threw heavy curls on her back. In this case, her slender body strained and stretched into a string.

The girl turned her back, and Gorn barely restrained a moan. The entire back from the neck to the waist was “painted” with fat bloody stripes left by the whip. The young man clearly imagined what kind of pain the girl should have felt when she was tortured. His heart sank with pain and anger, but the young man clenched his teeth so as not to scream, and quickly returned to the place of the night.

- Never! - as a spell he repeated, building a fire, - I will never hit her, even if the slave is guilty.

“Good morning, master,” Livia's voice suddenly rang out behind him, “How did my lord sleep?”

- Where were you? - croaked a young man.

“At the stream,” the girl replied calmly, “Washed her face and poured water into the pot. I found a little barberry and now make a great drink. He will encourage you, sir.

The slave girl deftly hung the pot over the fire. While the water was boiling, she separated the green leaves from the branches and, after grinding them, threw them into the water. After a couple of minutes, a slight smell of mint and wild berries spread through the clearing.

“We need to hurry,” said Horn thoughtfully, watching the girl with interest.

“Everything is ready,” Livia removed the pot from the fire.

They ate silently, sitting against each other and looking into their eyes. Horn leisurely looked at the slave, not hiding his curiosity, and the girl seemed to enjoy his gaze. He slid her eyes so gently and gently that it seemed to Livia that her new master stroked her slave, caressing her hair, shoulders, neck, and chest.

“We have to go,” Horn's voice suddenly rang out.

The slave shuddered, torn out of a beautiful dream, and with surprise looked at the young man who was quietly packing his things in his bag. Quickly jumping to her feet, she rushed to help her new master, but he gently pushed the girl away with her hand.

“Put on that,” he handed the slave some kind of bundle.

Livia carefully unwrapped it. A long shirt, sewn of coarse fabric, reached the ankles, and the wide sleeves completely covered the hands. The girl, having searched her eyes, picked up a piece of thin rope from the ground, which served her as a belt, and tied up her new clothes on a thin, almost aspen waist. She tucked the old tattered tunic into a dying fire, and the flame devoured the decayed matter with fury, leaving only a shapeless heap of ash from it.

“Sit down,” Gorn ordered, already riding his stallion, “We need to hurry.”

- Yes, my lord, - Livia easily jumped onto the withers of a horse.

Having settled down more comfortably, she wore a cloak and, not without pleasure ... Read more →