“She thought enough of you to give you a crystal guardian,” the giant noted, looking down at his young companion. “Let me tell you something of her world. As the daughter of a faerie woman, you have all her powers, although you have not known it. You are not with child yet, are you? Yet it is said that Enda comes to your bed almost every night. I know why you are not with child-you do not want his child, and a faerie woman never gives children to those she does not love.”

“They do not know this, do they?” Lara said.

“Nay, they don’t. There is much they do not know. My kind served the Forest Lords for as long as memory allows, yet they slew my people. When they could not find the faeries of the Forest they sent the giants to look for them. When we could not find them, they set about killing us, for we knew their secret and they would not have it revealed.

“I was in my mother’s belly at that time. Her name was Oona, and she managed to flee into the deepest part of the Forest where she bore me. We lived in a cave and saw no one but the beasts. It was there I met Ethne. She is not a faerie, but a faerie spirit. It was she who told me what my mother did not-that all giant memory is passed on to their unborn children in the womb. That should I ever fall into the hands of the Forest Lords I was to pretend to be innocent of all that had passed before my birth. And when I was four years of age they found us. They killed her, but me they spared for before she died she told them I had been born but four years prior.

“I was brought back here and raised in Durga’s hall, although in those days it was his grandfather’s hall. When I became too large to live in the hall I was given the bathhouse to attend, and to live in. I am small for my kind, they have told me.”

“Poor Og,” Lara said, taking his huge hand in her own two, and giving it a little squeeze. “What a terrible life it has been for you, having to pretend ignorance, and yet knowing so much. I wish there were a way in which I could help you.”

“It is I who must help you,” the giant replied. “Winter is coming, and if you are not with child by winter’s end, Durga will wonder why.”

“Perhaps he will sell me into another province? They do not know I am privy to their secret. Certainly they will want to recoup their losses as best they can,” Lara said.

“Durga, but that he is considered the eldest of his clan, would be sweeping out horse stalls,” Og said. “His family has always ruled the Forest. It is his right, but he is a stupid man. If you fail him he will be angry, and if he becomes angry he is just as apt to slay you as his grandfather’s men did that poor faerie woman seventy-five years ago.”

“But not yet,” Lara said.

“No, not yet,” Og agreed.

“I must bathe quickly now,” Lara told him. “They will wonder why I have been gone so long. Go now, and we will speak again.”

The giant nodded, and left her.

She washed herself quickly, then hurried back to the hall. Truda was seated by the fire, and seeing Lara beckoned her over. There was no way to avoid the woman and so Lara joined her, holding out her hands to warm them. Truda’s belly was very obvious, and her pride in her condition was irritating.

“Where have you been?” she demanded of Lara.

“It is not your place to question me,” Lara told her, “but you surely know I go to bathe each day at this time.”

“You were gone longer than you have been in the past,” Truda said.

“The water was very hot, and I am chilled to the bone these days. I remained to soak, and it felt wonderful. It is almost time for the Winterfest,” Lara replied. “The City was not as cold as it is here. Do you not feel it?”

“I feel nothing but the kicking of my son in my belly,” Truda responded proudly. “My lord Durga is a vigorous lover, and I am a fertile field for his potent seed. You will see soon enough, as his brother does not seem to plow as fine a furrow with you. My lord Durga says he will be visiting you soon for shortly I shall be unable to accommodate his lusty nature.” She smirked at Lara.

“It shall be as the Celestial Actuary ordains,” Lara said sweetly. “If I am meant to give one of these Forest Lords a child, I will. But will they not favor my offspring, with its faerie blood, to that of a slave woman?”

“You are a slave, too!” Truda said angrily, her hands going to her belly.

“But I am special, being half faerie,” Lara taunted her wickedly. And then she turned, and went down the dim corridor to the sanctuary of her rooms. Stepping inside, she was shocked to find Durga there awaiting her. Her heart began to beat nervously. “My lord,” she greeted him.

He arose from the chair by the hearth where he had been sitting. “You smell sweet,” he said. “Are you just come from your bath, Lara?”

“Yes, my lord,” she replied. Her hands by her side were balled into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.

He took a step toward her, and Lara instinctively backed away. He smiled wolfishly, and reached out for her before she might evade him again. Drawing her against his chest he said, “I desire you, faerie girl. I am a man of vast appetites, and the big-bellied bitch in the hall can no longer be mounted lest I endanger my son. You belong to me as well as to Enda, and he is gone for the next few days on a hunting trip. While he is gone you will open your legs for me.”

“Does my lord Enda know you do this?” Lara asked him.

Durga smiled, but it was a cold smile. The fingers of one large hand dug into her scalp, and he yanked her head back. “Yes!” he said. “And do not ever dare to question my actions, faerie girl. I am master in this hall, and you are my slave.” He pushed her against the door to her bedchamber. His hands reached down, sliding beneath her gown to cup her bottom. He lifted her up, commanding her, “Put your arms about my neck, and your legs about my waist, Lara,” and when she obeyed, afraid to do otherwise, he released his grip on her a moment, lifting his tunic up to release his manroot, which he then pushed into her with a smooth, hard thrust. “Now, faerie girl,” he said, his hands cupping her buttocks once more, “you are going to be well used, and thoroughly seeded by the hour of the evening meal.”

Lara was in shock. Enda had always been gentle and thoughtful with her. She was even learning to gain great pleasure in their passion. Durga, however, was a hard man, and a cruel lover. He ground into her brutally, making her whimper with each thrust of his loins. She thought of the faerie woman Og had told her about today, and realized that this is how the poor creature must have felt as she was violated. Her head slammed against the bedchamber door as he pushed into her again and again. And then it was over. With a roar he released his seed into her and lowered her to the floor. Lara’s legs buckled, and she would have fallen but Durga caught her up in his arms and, kicking the door open, brought her into her chamber, and laid her on the bed.

“I’ll get you some wine, faerie girl, and then we will begin again,” he told her, going back out into the day room. When he returned, Lara had managed to seat herself on the edge of the bed. He handed her the wine. “Drink it all down, and then get out of your gown, Lara. I don’t want you damaging your clothing for you have little enough.”

She swallowed the wine almost eagerly, relishing the fact that it burned her throat as it meant she could still feel something. He took the goblet from her when it was gone, and she stood up, disrobing slowly, her fingers all thumbs as she undid her laces. She laid her gown aside, and pulled off her chemise.

“On your back now, faerie girl,” he ordered her, and as she lay upon her bed she saw that Durga had also disrobed, and was now quite naked. She trembled, to her surprise. It was unlike her to be fearful of these men, but the tale Og had imparted to her earlier made her realize how dangerous the Forest Lords really were.

He was a big man, his hairy arms and legs like the thick tree trunks in his Forest. His chest was massive and broad and covered in wiry dark curls as was the area surrounding his manroot. He climbed into the bed and pulled her up into his arms. His fingers tugged the pins from her long gilt-colored hair. “It’s like thistledown, faerie girl,” he complimented her. Then his hand patted her mons. “It matches the pretty curls you have grown back since you came to us.” A finger pushed between her nether lips to find her jewel. He began to play with it gently. “You should have begun a child with my brother by now, Lara. Perhaps his seed is not as potent as mine. Perhaps he weakens it going between two women at night. My seed is fertile. I will plant your hidden garden fully and well in the next few days. You will ripen with my child, faerie girl.”

“I am not some animal to be bred!” Lara cried out, finally finding her voice.

“That’s exactly what you are, my pretty faerie girl. You are a sweet beast to be bred.” He pushed two fingers into her, moving them vigorously, then withdrew them. “Almost ready,” he noted. “Has Enda taught you to play with his manroot yet? I expect not. He gets little joy out of it, but I enjoy it. Take it in your hand, Lara. Fondle it gently. Tickle the seed sacs beneath it. They are filled with life!”

She took him in her hand, afraid to disobey him. He made a sound halfway between a growl and a purr, praising her skill and encouraging her onward. Her fingers moved beneath his manroot to tickle the seed sacs. They were almost icy to her touch. She fondled them in her palm, restraining her urge to squeeze them so hard they would pop.

“That’s it, girl,” he said approvingly. His hands fondled her young breasts, squeezing them tenderly, pinching the nipples sharply so that she squealed aloud. He laughed saying, “Such pretty little apples, faerie girl. Now, on your back!” And he dumped her from his lap onto the mattress. “Put your hands above your head now.” His dark head lowered, and he kissed her breasts and her belly, his bushy black beard scratching her delicate skin. Then without another word he was atop and into her, thrusting and withdrawing as he panted with his exertions.