By Jupiter's Cock!
Title: By Jupiter's Cock!: A Lots/Sparty Crossover - Chapters 1 and 2 of ? (probably 8)
Fandoms: Legend of the Seeker/Spartacus Blood and Sand
Pairings: Cara/Glaber, Ilythia/Cara, Ilythia/Lucretia, Kahlan/Aurelia with (very small) hints of Kahlan/Richard
Rating: Think more Spartacus and less LoTS (M)
Word Count: 19,000 ish total, 5,365 in this section
Spoilers: For the end of Season 1 of LoTS and all of Spartacus
Summary: AU to be sure but as close to the plot of both shows as I could make it… Set within LoTS S01 E22 (Reckoning) and between Spartacus Ep 12 (Revelation) and 13 (Kill Them All)
Disclaimer: Not my characters, I’m just playing with them for a while
A/N: My wife ( starbuck1980 who also proofed this for me) has been promising this to itsmorganabitch for some time now.. So hope you like!
Chapter 1
Kahlan had her hands around Richard’s throat, her heart twisted with worry at what would happen if Richard was wrong. The power flowed through her as Richard slid the last box of Orden into place. She barely had the chance to register the colour of blood red leather reaching for Richard amid the bright white lights before the world flashed blue and then went black.
* * *
For Richard and Cara that flash threw them into a hopeless future where Darken Rahl’s son had confessed the population and done away with the Mord’sith. When they had finally accomplished the means to return they found not the dark grove and the large stone but bright light and the cacophonous cheering of the crowd, and Kahlan, white dress strewn against the hot sand.
* * *
Kahlan opened her eyes to a blinding sun, blinked and registered the roar of the crowd in her ear. She quickly got up, seeing Richard and a Mord’sith doing the same, and looked around her in confusion and awe. They were in a circular arena with thousands of people cheering. Kahlan saw a man in a loincloth and a helmet run at Richard.
“Richard look out,” she yelled, grabbing her daggers from her boots with the intention of stopping the armed man in his tracks. Before Kahlan or Richard could act, the Mord’sith turned, grabbed her agiel, frowned, dropped it and punched the charging man in the face before he could raise his sword to Richard.
Kahlan heard a grunt behind her and realized that they were surrounded by three other men, all armed and advancing. She raised her daggers before her only to have the man closest pass her by, heading for Richard. As he passed she flipped her dagger in her hand and hit him with the pommel on the back of his head. She grabbed his sword as he fell and threw it to Richard. Richard took it and spun to block an axe swipe to his head while the one Kahlan had injured got up and turned to her. She blocked his punch with her left hand dagger, cutting his arm deeply and slicing across his stomach. His entrails spilled out as he fell for the final time and Kahlan nearly gagged at the sight, despite all the men she had killed she had never seen such a sight. She forced herself to look past him to the two remaining fighters, one wielding a net and cautiously circling the Mord'sith and one fighting Richard, a sword in each hand. As Richard was more than holding his own Kahlan went to the side of the unarmed Mord'sith, throwing a dagger at her attacker’s chest, the net falling upon his own bloody body. The cheers resounded and Kahlan turned to see Richard pulling the sword out of the last man, before dropping it.
"And my strangers have triumphed," came a loud resounding voice from a podium to their back, "against remarkable odds."
"Like being here," Cara whispered under her breath as they faced the voice.
"She has a point Richard," Kahlan said softly, squinting in the sun to see the face that belonged to the voice, "where are we?"
"I don't know Kahlan," came his reply as a gate they had all ignored rose up to the right of the podium. They stepped forward to allow the awning from the podium to block the sun and the man who had spoken, balding with a happy but bewildered smile, gestured for them to head into the gate.
"Why should we listen to him?" Cara asked when none of them moved.
Kahlan scanned the rest of the arena, "that is the only way out," she said.
Cara's eyes followed Kahlan's trail, confirming her observation.
"We don't seem to have a choice," Richard said, looking at Kahlan and then Cara before leading them both to the gate.
* * *
“We’re not Gods,” Richard insisted, flanked by Cara and Kahlan and standing before the balding man whose voice they heard earlier. He had brought the trio to his house, a great stone building that was half the size of some palaces they had seen, built upon an outcrop of rock amidst a sandy expanse.
The balding man had introduced himself as Batiatus and his wife, Lucretia, stood beside him fanning herself. Behind them were numerous partially dressed servants and beside the servants was a spread of food they could only half identify.
“My name is Richard, this is Kahlan and this is Cara,” he said, introducing them. Kahlan looked at Richard quizzically, wondering how he knew this Mord’sith’s name, but faced forward again, not wanting to ask in front of these strangers. Outwardly, they seemed nice but there was something in Batiatus’s eyes that made Kahlan uneasy, he hadn’t lied yet but he was still hiding something.
“We’re just strangers,” Richard continued, “looking to get back to the Midlands.”
Batiatus and his wife exchanged glances and she mumbled something behind her fan but the only word Richard caught might have been ‘savages.’
“I have not heard of this place,” Batiatus addressed Richard, seemingly ignoring the two woman at his side, “but I will make full enquiry into it’s whereabouts and do everything in my power to get you back there.”
“We would be most grateful,” Kahlan said.
Batiatus looked at her briefly and continued to speak to Richard, “You are welcome to stay here until such a time as I can return you.”
Richard nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
* * *
As Kahlan followed Lucretia down the hall to her quarters to find more appropriate clothing, they came upon a well-dressed blond heading in the same direction.
“Ilythia,” Lucretia called out, her call more a summon than a happenstance greeting.
Ilythia turned around, her thin layered blue dress falling around her ankles, brushing the floor as she spun. Where Lucretia was bright and curvy, in body, dress and temperament, Ilythia was cool and slim. The words she spoke, she spoke with ease and decorum but never stating more that needed to be said. She was obviously indebted to Lucretia for some reason but spoke and dressed as if she was of a higher class.
“Ilythia, this is Kahlan,” Lucretia introduced.
“Ah yes, one of the mysterious strangers, how are you finding Capua?” Ilythia asked with a modest nod.
“Milder than I am used to,” Kahlan half joked, surveying Ilythia’s clothes compared to her own.
“Yes, this Midlands must be cold,” Ilythia noted with a hint of mirth, examining Kahlan’s dress while taking a step closer, as if to whisper conspiratorially but instead she leaned in slowly and touched their lips, as if in greeting. It was the briefest of touches but Kahlan flushed.
Lucretia watched the action carefully, feeling an unexpected pang at Ilythia's unwanted attentions being directed elsewhere.
“I hope we can become friends in the days ahead,” Ilythia commented before withdrawing, looking at Lucretia whose look of consternation evaporated under Ilythia’s gaze.
“I was about to give our guest some lighter clothes to wear," Lucretia interrupted, "perhaps you would accompany us and your eye could bear favour on the correct choice?”
Ilythia took Kahlan’s hand and touched her upper arm with her other hand. Lucretia watched with earnest attention, an awkward pit in her stomach.
“Of course I would,” she said, “although perhaps my clothing would be better suited to your slim form, come to my room,” she intoned, giving Lucretia a venomous look before pulling Kahlan in the opposite direction to her own quarters.
Lucretia did not miss the barb and shot daggers at Ilythia when Kahlan was not looking. Kahlan turned to Lucretia and saw only smiles.
* * *
“You want me to fight?” Richard asked as Batiatus showed him the gladiators training in the yard from the balcony.
“Merely recreation, you seem full able with a sword,” Batiatus replied.
“Well I definitely wouldn’t mind sharpening up,” Richard said.
“That’s the spirit!” Batiatus said slapping Richard on the back, “now to find you better clothed.”
* * *
Cara meandered through the house, constantly shadowed by the guard Batiatus had left to ‘assist’ her. In other words he wasn’t stupid enough to have strangers wandering his house unaccompanied.
She was ‘admiring’ the artwork, in this case large blocks of marble with heads and cocks, when she heard a troop of soldiers headed toward her. As they came into view she took an unobtrusive step back, bowing her head when she saw the person they guarded.
“Lord Rahl,” She said just loud enough to be heard over the march of the guards.
“Halt,” Glaber said and the six guards stopped, allowing Glaber to turn to this oddly dressed woman.
“That is a title with which I am unfamiliar. I am Legate Claudius Glaber, and you would be?”
Cara eyed him suspiciously, taking in the close-cropped hair, the strange uniform, the strange name, and then she touched the dead agiel at her side.
“Just a stranger to this land my lord,” she said lowering her eyes subtly, pausing to see if he would take her bait. If he was Lord Rahl she would serve him, if he wasn’t she would kill him in deference to her true lord.
Glaber took in her tight-fitting costume, scanning calves, thighs, the way it clung to her hips and stomach.
“Well, you should not be a stranger any longer,” he said pulling his eyes from Cara’s figure and smiling in a way that made him look quite charming. He offered his arm and Cara hesitantly took it, letting him lead her out of the room.
* * *
Ilythia took up a pale dress and held it in front of her, eyeing it and then the stranger before her.
“This should grace you nicely,” she said, handing it to Kahlan and then sitting on the bench next to Lucretia as they both watched her expectantly.
Kahlan hesitated, looking first at Lucretia and Ilythia and then at the dark-haired slave who stood behind them.
Lucretia’s brow furrowed, trying to understand her guest’s hesitation. She smiled as she recognized the problem.
“Mira, please assist our guest,” Lucretia commanded.
Kahlan tried not to blush further as the slave girl came up to her and began undoing the laces of her confessor dress. It fell to the ground, leaving her in her undergarments. Mira started on those laces, her fingers brushing against Kahlan’s skin with every tug of the laces. It had been a long time since someone else had undressed her and the soft ministrations, starting at the small of her back, were sending shivers through her body that she was finding it hard to hide from the avid onlookers.
As Kahlan’s undergarment slid away she grasped the cloth Ilythia had given her and tried to get it on as quickly as possible. While the dress seemed simple enough, it was actually a complex drape and Kahlan was forced to wait as Mira wrapped her into it.
Lucretia watched with an empty expression while her mind ran amok trying to judge Ilythia's interest in the stranger and what possible advantages she could gain.
Ilythia gazed at Kahlan’s pale shapely figure, reveling in the discomfort it was causing Lucretia and finding her jealously powerfully alluring.
When Kahlan had finally been wrapped up in the pale dress Ilythia stood up and went over to the jewels arrayed on her table. She took some diamond clip earrings that shone like icicles, and a necklace with four spokes of splayed jewels and stepped toward Kahlan.
“Those are beautiful,” Kahlan said, trying to say anything to sidetrack the awkward energy directed at her by Ilythia's attentions.
“These old things? Trinkets, but they will adorn you nicely,” Ilythia replied, stepping into Kahlan’s personal space to clip the earrings on. Kahlan held her breath, trying not to offend these strangers who were housing her. She felt the brush of Ilythia’s hand against her neck as she clipped the right earring in place. She withdrew and Kahlan wondered if she was making too much of Ilythia’s proximity. Ilythia reached up to place the second earring and Kahlan could feel Ilythia’s breath on her neck as the metal closed around her left earlobe. Ilythia stood back and moved behind Kahlan, sweeping her long brown hair in front of her left shoulder with a soft sweep of fingers across Kahlan’s shoulder blades. She stepped forward again and wrapped the necklace around Kahlan’s neck, fastening it and then pulling at Kahlan’s hips to turn her around so Ilythia could see the picture she had accented. She took in the image before taking Kahlan’s hands and turning her again to present her to Lucretia, who had been taking careful note of the placement of Ilythia's hands.
Lucretia’s lips formed a prim smile as she forced away the strange discomfort she was feeling. Kahlan was a new toy to Ilythia, it did not change the fact that she was bound to her by secrets. Yet the thought did not comfort the pangs in her stomach.
“Quite beautiful once we take those foreign cloths off her,” Ilythia said and Lucretia fake-smiled, nodding her half-hearted approval.
Ilythia took Kahlan’s hand again, pulling her out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Lucretia asked.
Ilythia turned back to respond.
“To the balcony of course,” Ilythia replied, “I am sure our guest will appreciate the many small joys of this ludus.”
Lucretia smiled a tight smile, “I am sure it is so. I will follow shortly.”
Kahlan looked back, hoping to meet Lucretia’s eyes and convince her to come presently but Lucretia was no longer looking at her and she was drawn from the room before politeness allowed her to object.
* * *
Chapter 2
Richard walked on to the sand, watching as the eyes turned to him as if he was weak prey and they were hungry predators waiting to be unleashed. All except one man, who fought with two swords against a wooden pole by the cliff. His eyes did not rise to the stranger among them.
Richard looked down at the small covering he had been given to replace his Midlander clothing. It might have been more comfortable in the climate but it was a bit inhibiting.
A dark man with a whip paired him off with a lean but determined looking man he called Agron. He was given a wooden sword to counter Agron’s sword and shield but soon found that this handicap was instilled purposely by someone who had a keen knowledge of his own abilities from the fight that had been witnessed: Agron was good for warming up but he was in no danger of besting Richard.
Richard held out his hand to help Agron up after he had fallen into the dust and saw the somber man in the corner surveying him. He smiled and was given a nod before the other man went back to his pole.
“That’s Spartacus, our champion,” Agron informed him as he followed Richard’s gaze. Richard took in the information but said nothing and took a step back to begin sparring again.
* * *
When Kahlan arrived at the balcony she saw a red-haired girl who looked startlingly familiar.
“Jennsen!,” she said, pulling away from Ilythia’s grasp to embrace Richard’s sister, excited beyond measure at the familiar face.
The red-haired woman pulled away from her, her face wrinkled in confusion. Beyond her confusion Kahlan saw in her eyes a darkness and desperation that made her instantly sure that this woman, identical as she was, was not Richard’s sister.
“Do you know Aurelia?” Ilythia asked, her nose wrinkled in condescension.
“No, I was wrong,” Kahlan corrected, “she looks very much like someone I know,” she said releasing Aurelia’s arms awkwardly.
Aurelia looked at her for a moment in embarrassment and confusion before giving a small bow to her and Ilythia and returning to the house.
“Hopefully the one you know isn’t as hopeless as this one,” Ilythia began before Aurelia was out of earshot, “Her husband dies and she gives herself over to Batiatus’s service rather than allowing his charity but as a servant she is useless,” Ilythia’s tongue ran on.
Kahlan’s gaze followed Aurelia’s retreating figure, wishing there was something she could do for the poor girl who looked so much like Richard’s sister.
Before she could think any further, Ilythia pulled Kahlan’s attention toward the yard beyond the balcony. Below her were over a dozen men, Richard included, in loincloths with wooden swords sparring with each other. She smiled momentarily when she saw Richard, wondering if he was as uncomfortable in his new clothing as she has been changing into hers.
Lucretia came up behind them, standing beside Ilythia. Ilythia looked at Lucretia expectantly.
“Could you show the gladiators to our guest?” Ilythia asked, her eyes lighting up like a mischievous child.
“Doctore?” Lucretia’s commanding voice echoed to the yard below, “Have our gladiators stand at attention and disrobe,” she commanded, sounding bored by the prospect.
The dark man bowed his head, “Yes Domina,” he said before pulling his whip from his side and striking the ground.
“In line!,” Doctore yelled.
Richard looked around, wondering if he would be expected to line up as well. He looked to Spartacus who was making his way into the line with the rest of the men.
“It seems your man is fearful,” Lucretia said just loud enough to carry to the yard, turning to Kahlan with a wicked smile.
The men looked at Richard with laughter in their eyes and Richard hardened his expression and lined up with the rest of them, pulling at the tucked-in wrap of material and letting it unwind around him.
Kahlan tried not to look at the men below her but, as the presentation seemed to be for her benefit, she forced herself to look, eyes falling to Richard’s manhood as he looked up at her guiltily.
“It seems your man can hold his own among the men after all,” Ilythia said leaning into Kahlan. Ilythia’s words made certain parts of her numb and other parts spark in ways she had been trying to ignore since she met Richard. Although she wasn't sure if it was the image of Richard in all his glory or Ilythia’s breathy tone brushing her ear that had made her so, but she pushed both thought and image out of her mind as the men replaced their cloths.
“An impressive display,” Kahlan said, as she felt some note of thanks was needed.
“Indeed,” Lucretia said, “and they can be used for more than fighting,” she continued suggestively.
Kahlan blushed. “I do not need…” she began.
“Do not speak of such things!” Ilythia commanded, paling in ways that seemed completely foreign to her previous overtly sexual behavior.
“Come, come, surely my wife is not such a prude to find the idea of gladiatorial cock unappealing,” Glaber said as he entered the balcony, Cara on his arm.
Ilythia paled an even lighter shade before recovering herself. “Just because you no longer wish my attentions does not mean I would alter mine to someone other than my husband,” she replied.
“Nicely played my minx but I do not believe you in the least,” he said before turning his attention away from Ilythia to Lucretia and the matter at hand.
“Where is Batiatus? I was hoping to find him here, overseeing his sweating figures of blood money,” Glaber asked.
Kahlan stared at both Glaber and Cara. The initial surprise gave way to fear, which, when the man who was identical to Darken Rahl failed to recognize her, left her in a state of confusion. Jennsen wasn’t Jennsen and now Rahl wasn’t Rahl. Surely Cara knew he wasn’t her lord? But she couldn’t get an affirmation or anything but a casual stare from the Mord’sith.
* * *
Cara saw Kahlan’s confusion written across her face in broad strokes but her mind was focused on other matters and she would not allow the Confessor to distract her.
* * *
When Richard was finally paired off with the champion he was more compassionate than he initially appeared. In fact, through the fighting they found a bond of understanding, a bond that only strengthened when they stopped to eat and were able to speak properly. Each of them was a man taken from his home, wanting to return to a life of peace.
“Why don’t you leave?” Richard asked.
Spartacus looked around but it seemed Richard’s voice had not traveled over the din.
“I am a slave, my life is not my own,” Spartacus replied hesitantly, as if he was not fully sure of the words he said.
“Your life is your own,” Richard replied.
“You say that but you tell me that you are destined to kill this tyrant in your lands, surely destiny is your master?” Spartacus questioned.
Richard had no reply and fell silent, brooding.
Spartacus slapped Richard on the back and smiled.
“I am sorry to sour the speech, let us talk of happier things brother,” he said.
Richard smiled back as they changed topics, but his heart was no longer in it, his mind had clouded.
* * *
As Kahlan escaped the attentions of Ilythia and Lucretia, she saw Aurelia quickly turn from the entrance of Lucretia’s room.
Kahlan caught up to her and placed an easy hand on her shoulder. Aurelia spun around, muttering apologies and asking her not to tell Lucretia.
Kahlan smiled and tried to comfort the anxious girl.
“I am not going to tell Lucretia anything, it is obvious they don’t think much of you. Why do you stay here?” Kahlan asked, concerned for the woman who looked like a tortured version of the young girl she knew.
“My husband died at the hand of this ludus, instead of accepting charity I am earning my keep. I do not want to owe my life to anyone else more than I already do,” Aurelia paused, slowly looking up into the Confessor’s eyes.
Kahlan returned her gaze, marveling at the strength residing deep within this girl, hidden and hammered down by fear.
Aurelia continued, spurred on by the compassion in Kahlan’s eyes but averted her gaze before she continued, “I saw you fight and I see how you are with the servants, you are strong and self-sufficient. If you find a way home can you take me with you?” Aurelia earnestly requested, hesitantly looking up again, almost daring to think that these strangers could take her out of her despair.
Kahlan saw the hope beginning to flame in the otherwise sorrowful eyes of this slight girl. She hesitated. She wasn’t sure if there was a way to bring her with them, if the magic would allow it.
“I will see,” is all she could manage. Aurelia’s eyes darkened and she bowed her head again.
Kahlan took her chin and made her look into her eyes.
“Do not despair, if there is a way to bring you with us we will. Until then keep up spirit,” She said, pressing her hand to the girl’s heart (for she could not think of her as anything but a girl despite the unkind years that showed through her eyes). “As long as you survive your husband’s spirit resides with you.”
Aurelia nodded, an almost-smile on her face. She thanked Kahlan for her kindness and shuffled off into the ludus.
* * *
“You look much better,” Glaber said to Cara as she stood before him in a thin, low cut, knee high dress.
Cara shifted her weight uncomfortably but did not respond.
“Surely you are cooler?” Glaber prompted.
“Indeed,” Cara said. Despite yearning for her leathers back on her body, she had to admit that they were making her sweat unbearably. This dress allowed for air to circulate across her back and up her thighs. She was cooler but she felt venerable.
Glaber took a few steps toward her and reached for her hair.
“Let us undo this knot,” he said undoing the bottom of her braid and allowing her blond tresses to caress her side and hips.
“You may have stolen my breath,” he said with a hint of flattery.
Cara felt the fear and rage push together in confusion but she suppressed them both and smiled as sweetly as she could, pulling off a playfully menacing grin.
“Perhaps I can steal something more substantial,” she said, putting her hand up to his chest and walking toward him, forcing him to step back until he fell upon a half couch.
Glaber had been expecting to wait longer for this particular prize and the lack of play needed to subdue this quarry was disappointing, however the promises of pleasure and pain in Cara’s eyes made the fallowed blood rise to the surface, bulging uncomfortably against his uniform.
* * *
Richard was returned to the estates once training had finished and he and Kahlan were given rooms beside each other in the guest wing. They questioned the servants as to Cara’s whereabouts but were only told that she was last seen with Glaber. Ignoring the Mord’sith’s absence, Richard and Kahlan tried to find a way out of the puzzle they found themselves in.
Richard told Kahlan about how he and Cara had been sent into the future and could only return if the energies were duplicated.
“Something obviously went wrong,” Richard said.
“Perhaps the timing was off,” Kahlan offered.
“And we ended up here, without the boxes of Orden,” Richard said.
“Into an arena,” Kahlan said, looking into the distance for a moment. “Perhaps the arena has its own power. Perhaps the cry of the people, the spilling of blood and the making of champions, perhaps that is this land’s Box of Orden,” Kahlan mused.
Richard looked at Kahlan curiously, “You’re saying that as if we are not in our world, as if the properties themselves are different.”
“I have seen your sister Richard, or someone who looks just like her, and someone identical to Darken Rahl. But neither of them recognized me. Neither of them are those people. As strange as it sounds I think we are in another world,” Kahlan replied.
Richard pondered this for a moment.
“There is something else,” she said, “The servant who looks like Jennsen,” she paused, waiting for Richard to look up at her, when he did she continued. “She lost her husband and is enslaved to this house. I told her I would help her leave with us if I could,” she said, watching Richard’s face.
Richard nodded, trusting Kahlan’s judgment, “Then we will do what we can, I just hope, if we are in another world, we can find some way to bring her.”
“Me too,” Kahlan said distantly before yawning.
Richard took his cue and stood up from his seated position on the bed.
“I will try to find Cara in the morning,” he said heading to the door of her room. “Be careful Kahlan, I don’t think everyone is as they seem,” he said.
“Thank you Richard, I appreciate your concern but even in these clothes I can take care of myself,” she said with a hint of playful chastising.
“Indeed,” Richard said as he turned to the doorway. “By the way,” he said before leaving, “you look beautiful,” he said smiling as he exited before Kahlan could respond.
Kahlan blushed, watching him exit before getting up to pull the curtain in front of her doorway and returning to her bed, sliding herself between the cool sheets and falling into an uneasy sleep.
* * *
The legate was enjoying himself, Cara could tell. And while she satisfied his every whim her thoughts were churning away, forcing themselves to be acted upon.
This man was an imposter who did not acknowledge Lord Rahl, stealing his face to rule this strange land. He also actively pursued a Mord’sith without recognizing her talents. Although the Mord’sith had always been Rahl’s personal guard, with all the innuendo entailed, he never laid a finger on them, instead preferring the younger serving men who came and went like mayflies in his service. Any of the Mord’sith would’ve gladly obliged, but Rahl had always respected them and their gifts too much to use them for his less torturous needs. This man was different. She could feel it. He was wrong.
As she felt him strain inside her, about to burst forth, she put her hands neatly at his throat and pressed down. It wasn’t the most elegant way but it was effective, and in the absence of a working agiel, it was also the easiest.
“Guards!” He choked off. She had been too distracted by the pressure of him inside her. She took her hands off his throat and snapped his neck, pulling herself off him as two guards came charging into the room.
The sight of a naked woman made them hesitate for a moment but when they saw Glaber lying with his head at an unnatural angle, cock still erect, they charged at Cara.
Cara deflected the first man easily, stepping aside and ramming him into the wall before pulling his sword from his hand and raising it to block the slice coming down on her head. She pushed the sword up as she stood, backing out of range and releasing the pressure suddenly, slicing down across the second guard’s chest. Two more men ran in but Cara deflected them as easily as the first, donned her leathers and was heading down the hallway when she came up against Batiatus and at least ten of his men.
“Grab her,” he said and three men came forward. Cara backed away, holding the sword in front of her and eyeing them each in turn. She was backing towards an intersection in the hallway but before she could recognize more than that initial fact her body slouched to the floor as Ilythia stood over her, on the step to the hallway, holding a now bloody marble statue in her hand.
Batiatus walked past her, further down the hallway to the room on the left, followed by his guards.
Lucretia came up, wrapped in her night gown, and looked at Ilythia with amusement, “Killing people in our house is becoming a bit of a habit with you I see,” she said, lips pursed in jibe.
“She’s not dead,” Ilythia noted as Cara, deep gash in her skull, stirred. Batiatus’s rear guard heard her and came back to bind the visitor while the rest of them examined the murdered Legate.
Batiatus stood over the corpse as Lucretia entered. “He gets cunt and I get shit covered cock in ass yet again,” he exclaimed.
“He’s dead then,” Lucretia deadpanned.
“Of course he is dead,” Batiatus responded, “as are three of his guards.”
“All by one unarmed woman?” Lucretia questioned, shocked by the possibility. Killing a man in the heat of passion is one thing, but fighting off four heavily armed guards with no initial weapon?”
“Naked,” the fourth, and only surviving, guard added.
Lucretia widened her eyes at her husband, as if the guard had just made her point for her.
“Well perhaps we have a place in this house for this murderess after all,” Batiatus said, looking from the guard to his wife, who smiled.
* * *
Chapters 3 & 4
Fandoms: Legend of the Seeker/Spartacus Blood and Sand
Pairings: Cara/Glaber, Ilythia/Cara, Ilythia/Lucretia, Kahlan/Aurelia with (very small) hints of Kahlan/Richard
Rating: Think more Spartacus and less LoTS (M)
Word Count: 19,000 ish total, 5,365 in this section
Spoilers: For the end of Season 1 of LoTS and all of Spartacus
Summary: AU to be sure but as close to the plot of both shows as I could make it… Set within LoTS S01 E22 (Reckoning) and between Spartacus Ep 12 (Revelation) and 13 (Kill Them All)
Disclaimer: Not my characters, I’m just playing with them for a while
A/N: My wife ( starbuck1980 who also proofed this for me) has been promising this to itsmorganabitch for some time now.. So hope you like!
Chapter 1
Kahlan had her hands around Richard’s throat, her heart twisted with worry at what would happen if Richard was wrong. The power flowed through her as Richard slid the last box of Orden into place. She barely had the chance to register the colour of blood red leather reaching for Richard amid the bright white lights before the world flashed blue and then went black.
* * *
For Richard and Cara that flash threw them into a hopeless future where Darken Rahl’s son had confessed the population and done away with the Mord’sith. When they had finally accomplished the means to return they found not the dark grove and the large stone but bright light and the cacophonous cheering of the crowd, and Kahlan, white dress strewn against the hot sand.
* * *
Kahlan opened her eyes to a blinding sun, blinked and registered the roar of the crowd in her ear. She quickly got up, seeing Richard and a Mord’sith doing the same, and looked around her in confusion and awe. They were in a circular arena with thousands of people cheering. Kahlan saw a man in a loincloth and a helmet run at Richard.
“Richard look out,” she yelled, grabbing her daggers from her boots with the intention of stopping the armed man in his tracks. Before Kahlan or Richard could act, the Mord’sith turned, grabbed her agiel, frowned, dropped it and punched the charging man in the face before he could raise his sword to Richard.
Kahlan heard a grunt behind her and realized that they were surrounded by three other men, all armed and advancing. She raised her daggers before her only to have the man closest pass her by, heading for Richard. As he passed she flipped her dagger in her hand and hit him with the pommel on the back of his head. She grabbed his sword as he fell and threw it to Richard. Richard took it and spun to block an axe swipe to his head while the one Kahlan had injured got up and turned to her. She blocked his punch with her left hand dagger, cutting his arm deeply and slicing across his stomach. His entrails spilled out as he fell for the final time and Kahlan nearly gagged at the sight, despite all the men she had killed she had never seen such a sight. She forced herself to look past him to the two remaining fighters, one wielding a net and cautiously circling the Mord'sith and one fighting Richard, a sword in each hand. As Richard was more than holding his own Kahlan went to the side of the unarmed Mord'sith, throwing a dagger at her attacker’s chest, the net falling upon his own bloody body. The cheers resounded and Kahlan turned to see Richard pulling the sword out of the last man, before dropping it.
"And my strangers have triumphed," came a loud resounding voice from a podium to their back, "against remarkable odds."
"Like being here," Cara whispered under her breath as they faced the voice.
"She has a point Richard," Kahlan said softly, squinting in the sun to see the face that belonged to the voice, "where are we?"
"I don't know Kahlan," came his reply as a gate they had all ignored rose up to the right of the podium. They stepped forward to allow the awning from the podium to block the sun and the man who had spoken, balding with a happy but bewildered smile, gestured for them to head into the gate.
"Why should we listen to him?" Cara asked when none of them moved.
Kahlan scanned the rest of the arena, "that is the only way out," she said.
Cara's eyes followed Kahlan's trail, confirming her observation.
"We don't seem to have a choice," Richard said, looking at Kahlan and then Cara before leading them both to the gate.
* * *
“We’re not Gods,” Richard insisted, flanked by Cara and Kahlan and standing before the balding man whose voice they heard earlier. He had brought the trio to his house, a great stone building that was half the size of some palaces they had seen, built upon an outcrop of rock amidst a sandy expanse.
The balding man had introduced himself as Batiatus and his wife, Lucretia, stood beside him fanning herself. Behind them were numerous partially dressed servants and beside the servants was a spread of food they could only half identify.
“My name is Richard, this is Kahlan and this is Cara,” he said, introducing them. Kahlan looked at Richard quizzically, wondering how he knew this Mord’sith’s name, but faced forward again, not wanting to ask in front of these strangers. Outwardly, they seemed nice but there was something in Batiatus’s eyes that made Kahlan uneasy, he hadn’t lied yet but he was still hiding something.
“We’re just strangers,” Richard continued, “looking to get back to the Midlands.”
Batiatus and his wife exchanged glances and she mumbled something behind her fan but the only word Richard caught might have been ‘savages.’
“I have not heard of this place,” Batiatus addressed Richard, seemingly ignoring the two woman at his side, “but I will make full enquiry into it’s whereabouts and do everything in my power to get you back there.”
“We would be most grateful,” Kahlan said.
Batiatus looked at her briefly and continued to speak to Richard, “You are welcome to stay here until such a time as I can return you.”
Richard nodded. “Thank you,” he said.
* * *
As Kahlan followed Lucretia down the hall to her quarters to find more appropriate clothing, they came upon a well-dressed blond heading in the same direction.
“Ilythia,” Lucretia called out, her call more a summon than a happenstance greeting.
Ilythia turned around, her thin layered blue dress falling around her ankles, brushing the floor as she spun. Where Lucretia was bright and curvy, in body, dress and temperament, Ilythia was cool and slim. The words she spoke, she spoke with ease and decorum but never stating more that needed to be said. She was obviously indebted to Lucretia for some reason but spoke and dressed as if she was of a higher class.
“Ilythia, this is Kahlan,” Lucretia introduced.
“Ah yes, one of the mysterious strangers, how are you finding Capua?” Ilythia asked with a modest nod.
“Milder than I am used to,” Kahlan half joked, surveying Ilythia’s clothes compared to her own.
“Yes, this Midlands must be cold,” Ilythia noted with a hint of mirth, examining Kahlan’s dress while taking a step closer, as if to whisper conspiratorially but instead she leaned in slowly and touched their lips, as if in greeting. It was the briefest of touches but Kahlan flushed.
Lucretia watched the action carefully, feeling an unexpected pang at Ilythia's unwanted attentions being directed elsewhere.
“I hope we can become friends in the days ahead,” Ilythia commented before withdrawing, looking at Lucretia whose look of consternation evaporated under Ilythia’s gaze.
“I was about to give our guest some lighter clothes to wear," Lucretia interrupted, "perhaps you would accompany us and your eye could bear favour on the correct choice?”
Ilythia took Kahlan’s hand and touched her upper arm with her other hand. Lucretia watched with earnest attention, an awkward pit in her stomach.
“Of course I would,” she said, “although perhaps my clothing would be better suited to your slim form, come to my room,” she intoned, giving Lucretia a venomous look before pulling Kahlan in the opposite direction to her own quarters.
Lucretia did not miss the barb and shot daggers at Ilythia when Kahlan was not looking. Kahlan turned to Lucretia and saw only smiles.
* * *
“You want me to fight?” Richard asked as Batiatus showed him the gladiators training in the yard from the balcony.
“Merely recreation, you seem full able with a sword,” Batiatus replied.
“Well I definitely wouldn’t mind sharpening up,” Richard said.
“That’s the spirit!” Batiatus said slapping Richard on the back, “now to find you better clothed.”
* * *
Cara meandered through the house, constantly shadowed by the guard Batiatus had left to ‘assist’ her. In other words he wasn’t stupid enough to have strangers wandering his house unaccompanied.
She was ‘admiring’ the artwork, in this case large blocks of marble with heads and cocks, when she heard a troop of soldiers headed toward her. As they came into view she took an unobtrusive step back, bowing her head when she saw the person they guarded.
“Lord Rahl,” She said just loud enough to be heard over the march of the guards.
“Halt,” Glaber said and the six guards stopped, allowing Glaber to turn to this oddly dressed woman.
“That is a title with which I am unfamiliar. I am Legate Claudius Glaber, and you would be?”
Cara eyed him suspiciously, taking in the close-cropped hair, the strange uniform, the strange name, and then she touched the dead agiel at her side.
“Just a stranger to this land my lord,” she said lowering her eyes subtly, pausing to see if he would take her bait. If he was Lord Rahl she would serve him, if he wasn’t she would kill him in deference to her true lord.
Glaber took in her tight-fitting costume, scanning calves, thighs, the way it clung to her hips and stomach.
“Well, you should not be a stranger any longer,” he said pulling his eyes from Cara’s figure and smiling in a way that made him look quite charming. He offered his arm and Cara hesitantly took it, letting him lead her out of the room.
* * *
Ilythia took up a pale dress and held it in front of her, eyeing it and then the stranger before her.
“This should grace you nicely,” she said, handing it to Kahlan and then sitting on the bench next to Lucretia as they both watched her expectantly.
Kahlan hesitated, looking first at Lucretia and Ilythia and then at the dark-haired slave who stood behind them.
Lucretia’s brow furrowed, trying to understand her guest’s hesitation. She smiled as she recognized the problem.
“Mira, please assist our guest,” Lucretia commanded.
Kahlan tried not to blush further as the slave girl came up to her and began undoing the laces of her confessor dress. It fell to the ground, leaving her in her undergarments. Mira started on those laces, her fingers brushing against Kahlan’s skin with every tug of the laces. It had been a long time since someone else had undressed her and the soft ministrations, starting at the small of her back, were sending shivers through her body that she was finding it hard to hide from the avid onlookers.
As Kahlan’s undergarment slid away she grasped the cloth Ilythia had given her and tried to get it on as quickly as possible. While the dress seemed simple enough, it was actually a complex drape and Kahlan was forced to wait as Mira wrapped her into it.
Lucretia watched with an empty expression while her mind ran amok trying to judge Ilythia's interest in the stranger and what possible advantages she could gain.
Ilythia gazed at Kahlan’s pale shapely figure, reveling in the discomfort it was causing Lucretia and finding her jealously powerfully alluring.
When Kahlan had finally been wrapped up in the pale dress Ilythia stood up and went over to the jewels arrayed on her table. She took some diamond clip earrings that shone like icicles, and a necklace with four spokes of splayed jewels and stepped toward Kahlan.
“Those are beautiful,” Kahlan said, trying to say anything to sidetrack the awkward energy directed at her by Ilythia's attentions.
“These old things? Trinkets, but they will adorn you nicely,” Ilythia replied, stepping into Kahlan’s personal space to clip the earrings on. Kahlan held her breath, trying not to offend these strangers who were housing her. She felt the brush of Ilythia’s hand against her neck as she clipped the right earring in place. She withdrew and Kahlan wondered if she was making too much of Ilythia’s proximity. Ilythia reached up to place the second earring and Kahlan could feel Ilythia’s breath on her neck as the metal closed around her left earlobe. Ilythia stood back and moved behind Kahlan, sweeping her long brown hair in front of her left shoulder with a soft sweep of fingers across Kahlan’s shoulder blades. She stepped forward again and wrapped the necklace around Kahlan’s neck, fastening it and then pulling at Kahlan’s hips to turn her around so Ilythia could see the picture she had accented. She took in the image before taking Kahlan’s hands and turning her again to present her to Lucretia, who had been taking careful note of the placement of Ilythia's hands.
Lucretia’s lips formed a prim smile as she forced away the strange discomfort she was feeling. Kahlan was a new toy to Ilythia, it did not change the fact that she was bound to her by secrets. Yet the thought did not comfort the pangs in her stomach.
“Quite beautiful once we take those foreign cloths off her,” Ilythia said and Lucretia fake-smiled, nodding her half-hearted approval.
Ilythia took Kahlan’s hand again, pulling her out of the room.
“Where are you going?” Lucretia asked.
Ilythia turned back to respond.
“To the balcony of course,” Ilythia replied, “I am sure our guest will appreciate the many small joys of this ludus.”
Lucretia smiled a tight smile, “I am sure it is so. I will follow shortly.”
Kahlan looked back, hoping to meet Lucretia’s eyes and convince her to come presently but Lucretia was no longer looking at her and she was drawn from the room before politeness allowed her to object.
* * *
Chapter 2
Richard walked on to the sand, watching as the eyes turned to him as if he was weak prey and they were hungry predators waiting to be unleashed. All except one man, who fought with two swords against a wooden pole by the cliff. His eyes did not rise to the stranger among them.
Richard looked down at the small covering he had been given to replace his Midlander clothing. It might have been more comfortable in the climate but it was a bit inhibiting.
A dark man with a whip paired him off with a lean but determined looking man he called Agron. He was given a wooden sword to counter Agron’s sword and shield but soon found that this handicap was instilled purposely by someone who had a keen knowledge of his own abilities from the fight that had been witnessed: Agron was good for warming up but he was in no danger of besting Richard.
Richard held out his hand to help Agron up after he had fallen into the dust and saw the somber man in the corner surveying him. He smiled and was given a nod before the other man went back to his pole.
“That’s Spartacus, our champion,” Agron informed him as he followed Richard’s gaze. Richard took in the information but said nothing and took a step back to begin sparring again.
* * *
When Kahlan arrived at the balcony she saw a red-haired girl who looked startlingly familiar.
“Jennsen!,” she said, pulling away from Ilythia’s grasp to embrace Richard’s sister, excited beyond measure at the familiar face.
The red-haired woman pulled away from her, her face wrinkled in confusion. Beyond her confusion Kahlan saw in her eyes a darkness and desperation that made her instantly sure that this woman, identical as she was, was not Richard’s sister.
“Do you know Aurelia?” Ilythia asked, her nose wrinkled in condescension.
“No, I was wrong,” Kahlan corrected, “she looks very much like someone I know,” she said releasing Aurelia’s arms awkwardly.
Aurelia looked at her for a moment in embarrassment and confusion before giving a small bow to her and Ilythia and returning to the house.
“Hopefully the one you know isn’t as hopeless as this one,” Ilythia began before Aurelia was out of earshot, “Her husband dies and she gives herself over to Batiatus’s service rather than allowing his charity but as a servant she is useless,” Ilythia’s tongue ran on.
Kahlan’s gaze followed Aurelia’s retreating figure, wishing there was something she could do for the poor girl who looked so much like Richard’s sister.
Before she could think any further, Ilythia pulled Kahlan’s attention toward the yard beyond the balcony. Below her were over a dozen men, Richard included, in loincloths with wooden swords sparring with each other. She smiled momentarily when she saw Richard, wondering if he was as uncomfortable in his new clothing as she has been changing into hers.
Lucretia came up behind them, standing beside Ilythia. Ilythia looked at Lucretia expectantly.
“Could you show the gladiators to our guest?” Ilythia asked, her eyes lighting up like a mischievous child.
“Doctore?” Lucretia’s commanding voice echoed to the yard below, “Have our gladiators stand at attention and disrobe,” she commanded, sounding bored by the prospect.
The dark man bowed his head, “Yes Domina,” he said before pulling his whip from his side and striking the ground.
“In line!,” Doctore yelled.
Richard looked around, wondering if he would be expected to line up as well. He looked to Spartacus who was making his way into the line with the rest of the men.
“It seems your man is fearful,” Lucretia said just loud enough to carry to the yard, turning to Kahlan with a wicked smile.
The men looked at Richard with laughter in their eyes and Richard hardened his expression and lined up with the rest of them, pulling at the tucked-in wrap of material and letting it unwind around him.
Kahlan tried not to look at the men below her but, as the presentation seemed to be for her benefit, she forced herself to look, eyes falling to Richard’s manhood as he looked up at her guiltily.
“It seems your man can hold his own among the men after all,” Ilythia said leaning into Kahlan. Ilythia’s words made certain parts of her numb and other parts spark in ways she had been trying to ignore since she met Richard. Although she wasn't sure if it was the image of Richard in all his glory or Ilythia’s breathy tone brushing her ear that had made her so, but she pushed both thought and image out of her mind as the men replaced their cloths.
“An impressive display,” Kahlan said, as she felt some note of thanks was needed.
“Indeed,” Lucretia said, “and they can be used for more than fighting,” she continued suggestively.
Kahlan blushed. “I do not need…” she began.
“Do not speak of such things!” Ilythia commanded, paling in ways that seemed completely foreign to her previous overtly sexual behavior.
“Come, come, surely my wife is not such a prude to find the idea of gladiatorial cock unappealing,” Glaber said as he entered the balcony, Cara on his arm.
Ilythia paled an even lighter shade before recovering herself. “Just because you no longer wish my attentions does not mean I would alter mine to someone other than my husband,” she replied.
“Nicely played my minx but I do not believe you in the least,” he said before turning his attention away from Ilythia to Lucretia and the matter at hand.
“Where is Batiatus? I was hoping to find him here, overseeing his sweating figures of blood money,” Glaber asked.
Kahlan stared at both Glaber and Cara. The initial surprise gave way to fear, which, when the man who was identical to Darken Rahl failed to recognize her, left her in a state of confusion. Jennsen wasn’t Jennsen and now Rahl wasn’t Rahl. Surely Cara knew he wasn’t her lord? But she couldn’t get an affirmation or anything but a casual stare from the Mord’sith.
* * *
Cara saw Kahlan’s confusion written across her face in broad strokes but her mind was focused on other matters and she would not allow the Confessor to distract her.
* * *
When Richard was finally paired off with the champion he was more compassionate than he initially appeared. In fact, through the fighting they found a bond of understanding, a bond that only strengthened when they stopped to eat and were able to speak properly. Each of them was a man taken from his home, wanting to return to a life of peace.
“Why don’t you leave?” Richard asked.
Spartacus looked around but it seemed Richard’s voice had not traveled over the din.
“I am a slave, my life is not my own,” Spartacus replied hesitantly, as if he was not fully sure of the words he said.
“Your life is your own,” Richard replied.
“You say that but you tell me that you are destined to kill this tyrant in your lands, surely destiny is your master?” Spartacus questioned.
Richard had no reply and fell silent, brooding.
Spartacus slapped Richard on the back and smiled.
“I am sorry to sour the speech, let us talk of happier things brother,” he said.
Richard smiled back as they changed topics, but his heart was no longer in it, his mind had clouded.
* * *
As Kahlan escaped the attentions of Ilythia and Lucretia, she saw Aurelia quickly turn from the entrance of Lucretia’s room.
Kahlan caught up to her and placed an easy hand on her shoulder. Aurelia spun around, muttering apologies and asking her not to tell Lucretia.
Kahlan smiled and tried to comfort the anxious girl.
“I am not going to tell Lucretia anything, it is obvious they don’t think much of you. Why do you stay here?” Kahlan asked, concerned for the woman who looked like a tortured version of the young girl she knew.
“My husband died at the hand of this ludus, instead of accepting charity I am earning my keep. I do not want to owe my life to anyone else more than I already do,” Aurelia paused, slowly looking up into the Confessor’s eyes.
Kahlan returned her gaze, marveling at the strength residing deep within this girl, hidden and hammered down by fear.
Aurelia continued, spurred on by the compassion in Kahlan’s eyes but averted her gaze before she continued, “I saw you fight and I see how you are with the servants, you are strong and self-sufficient. If you find a way home can you take me with you?” Aurelia earnestly requested, hesitantly looking up again, almost daring to think that these strangers could take her out of her despair.
Kahlan saw the hope beginning to flame in the otherwise sorrowful eyes of this slight girl. She hesitated. She wasn’t sure if there was a way to bring her with them, if the magic would allow it.
“I will see,” is all she could manage. Aurelia’s eyes darkened and she bowed her head again.
Kahlan took her chin and made her look into her eyes.
“Do not despair, if there is a way to bring you with us we will. Until then keep up spirit,” She said, pressing her hand to the girl’s heart (for she could not think of her as anything but a girl despite the unkind years that showed through her eyes). “As long as you survive your husband’s spirit resides with you.”
Aurelia nodded, an almost-smile on her face. She thanked Kahlan for her kindness and shuffled off into the ludus.
* * *
“You look much better,” Glaber said to Cara as she stood before him in a thin, low cut, knee high dress.
Cara shifted her weight uncomfortably but did not respond.
“Surely you are cooler?” Glaber prompted.
“Indeed,” Cara said. Despite yearning for her leathers back on her body, she had to admit that they were making her sweat unbearably. This dress allowed for air to circulate across her back and up her thighs. She was cooler but she felt venerable.
Glaber took a few steps toward her and reached for her hair.
“Let us undo this knot,” he said undoing the bottom of her braid and allowing her blond tresses to caress her side and hips.
“You may have stolen my breath,” he said with a hint of flattery.
Cara felt the fear and rage push together in confusion but she suppressed them both and smiled as sweetly as she could, pulling off a playfully menacing grin.
“Perhaps I can steal something more substantial,” she said, putting her hand up to his chest and walking toward him, forcing him to step back until he fell upon a half couch.
Glaber had been expecting to wait longer for this particular prize and the lack of play needed to subdue this quarry was disappointing, however the promises of pleasure and pain in Cara’s eyes made the fallowed blood rise to the surface, bulging uncomfortably against his uniform.
* * *
Richard was returned to the estates once training had finished and he and Kahlan were given rooms beside each other in the guest wing. They questioned the servants as to Cara’s whereabouts but were only told that she was last seen with Glaber. Ignoring the Mord’sith’s absence, Richard and Kahlan tried to find a way out of the puzzle they found themselves in.
Richard told Kahlan about how he and Cara had been sent into the future and could only return if the energies were duplicated.
“Something obviously went wrong,” Richard said.
“Perhaps the timing was off,” Kahlan offered.
“And we ended up here, without the boxes of Orden,” Richard said.
“Into an arena,” Kahlan said, looking into the distance for a moment. “Perhaps the arena has its own power. Perhaps the cry of the people, the spilling of blood and the making of champions, perhaps that is this land’s Box of Orden,” Kahlan mused.
Richard looked at Kahlan curiously, “You’re saying that as if we are not in our world, as if the properties themselves are different.”
“I have seen your sister Richard, or someone who looks just like her, and someone identical to Darken Rahl. But neither of them recognized me. Neither of them are those people. As strange as it sounds I think we are in another world,” Kahlan replied.
Richard pondered this for a moment.
“There is something else,” she said, “The servant who looks like Jennsen,” she paused, waiting for Richard to look up at her, when he did she continued. “She lost her husband and is enslaved to this house. I told her I would help her leave with us if I could,” she said, watching Richard’s face.
Richard nodded, trusting Kahlan’s judgment, “Then we will do what we can, I just hope, if we are in another world, we can find some way to bring her.”
“Me too,” Kahlan said distantly before yawning.
Richard took his cue and stood up from his seated position on the bed.
“I will try to find Cara in the morning,” he said heading to the door of her room. “Be careful Kahlan, I don’t think everyone is as they seem,” he said.
“Thank you Richard, I appreciate your concern but even in these clothes I can take care of myself,” she said with a hint of playful chastising.
“Indeed,” Richard said as he turned to the doorway. “By the way,” he said before leaving, “you look beautiful,” he said smiling as he exited before Kahlan could respond.
Kahlan blushed, watching him exit before getting up to pull the curtain in front of her doorway and returning to her bed, sliding herself between the cool sheets and falling into an uneasy sleep.
* * *
The legate was enjoying himself, Cara could tell. And while she satisfied his every whim her thoughts were churning away, forcing themselves to be acted upon.
This man was an imposter who did not acknowledge Lord Rahl, stealing his face to rule this strange land. He also actively pursued a Mord’sith without recognizing her talents. Although the Mord’sith had always been Rahl’s personal guard, with all the innuendo entailed, he never laid a finger on them, instead preferring the younger serving men who came and went like mayflies in his service. Any of the Mord’sith would’ve gladly obliged, but Rahl had always respected them and their gifts too much to use them for his less torturous needs. This man was different. She could feel it. He was wrong.
As she felt him strain inside her, about to burst forth, she put her hands neatly at his throat and pressed down. It wasn’t the most elegant way but it was effective, and in the absence of a working agiel, it was also the easiest.
“Guards!” He choked off. She had been too distracted by the pressure of him inside her. She took her hands off his throat and snapped his neck, pulling herself off him as two guards came charging into the room.
The sight of a naked woman made them hesitate for a moment but when they saw Glaber lying with his head at an unnatural angle, cock still erect, they charged at Cara.
Cara deflected the first man easily, stepping aside and ramming him into the wall before pulling his sword from his hand and raising it to block the slice coming down on her head. She pushed the sword up as she stood, backing out of range and releasing the pressure suddenly, slicing down across the second guard’s chest. Two more men ran in but Cara deflected them as easily as the first, donned her leathers and was heading down the hallway when she came up against Batiatus and at least ten of his men.
“Grab her,” he said and three men came forward. Cara backed away, holding the sword in front of her and eyeing them each in turn. She was backing towards an intersection in the hallway but before she could recognize more than that initial fact her body slouched to the floor as Ilythia stood over her, on the step to the hallway, holding a now bloody marble statue in her hand.
Batiatus walked past her, further down the hallway to the room on the left, followed by his guards.
Lucretia came up, wrapped in her night gown, and looked at Ilythia with amusement, “Killing people in our house is becoming a bit of a habit with you I see,” she said, lips pursed in jibe.
“She’s not dead,” Ilythia noted as Cara, deep gash in her skull, stirred. Batiatus’s rear guard heard her and came back to bind the visitor while the rest of them examined the murdered Legate.
Batiatus stood over the corpse as Lucretia entered. “He gets cunt and I get shit covered cock in ass yet again,” he exclaimed.
“He’s dead then,” Lucretia deadpanned.
“Of course he is dead,” Batiatus responded, “as are three of his guards.”
“All by one unarmed woman?” Lucretia questioned, shocked by the possibility. Killing a man in the heat of passion is one thing, but fighting off four heavily armed guards with no initial weapon?”
“Naked,” the fourth, and only surviving, guard added.
Lucretia widened her eyes at her husband, as if the guard had just made her point for her.
“Well perhaps we have a place in this house for this murderess after all,” Batiatus said, looking from the guard to his wife, who smiled.
* * *
Chapters 3 & 4