Unchained

By Hargrove Perth

Sold into slavery by her father to avoid the invasion of Strigia by the Ottoman Turks, Portia di Luce must find a way to survive in a land not her own. She watches, listens carefully, and uses what she learns about her captives to create a life that is barely tolerable in a country where women are merely property and treated without kindness. When the opportunity to escape arrives, Portia finds herself at the mercy of a stranger - a man who has no love of the Turks and does not trust Portia, fearing she is a spy or worse yet, a traitor. As time passes, the true traitor is revealed and Lord Draegan of Sebe must learn to trust the young woman he reluctantly offered sanctuary and soon finds that Portia's faith and resilience is an inspiration to not only him but the servants of his castle. When war with the Turks approaches Sebe, Lord Draegan must make a decision based on the information Portia has shared in confidence and decide if he can find it in his heart to forgive his actions against Portia when she arrived and if he can admit to himself that she has touched his heart in a way he no longer believed was possible.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angelique Darke
• Release date: Nov 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386809166

Hargrove Perth

A perpetual night-owl and lover of all things paranormal related, Hargrove spends a great deal of time researching the larger than life characters of history to formulate characters unforgettable and strangely adored. She writes horror, dark romance, fantasy, and paranormal in the Adult, New Adult, and YA categories. When asked why paranormal, she said, "I'm the girl who cries at the end when Frankenstein is misunderstood, who wants Dracula to keep Mina in his arms forever... I see the humanity in them that others cannot." 2014 Author of the Year by Double Decker Books in Historical/Horror Dark Days Remy Broulette. DDBA 2015 Author of the Year YA Fantasy Miss Crabtree's School for Unnaturals, DDBA 2015 Nominee YA Fantasy Chronicle:Dark Sea Triad, and DDBA 2015 Author of the Year Horror (comedic) Coven Wives.

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UNCHAINED

Hargrove Perth

Unchained Copyright January 2017 Hargrove Perth

Editing by Indie Editor Nancy Winterburn Tulloch

All Rights Reserved. No portion of this work may be reproduced by any means whatsoever without the explicit written consent of the author and the author's publisher. This work contains people who have been used in a fictionalized setting for the purpose of historical reference. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is used strictly for the embellishment of the story to lend creditable of the fictionalized work. The copyright laws of 1988, namely the Berne Convention Copyright Laws of 1988, and the Digital Millennium Copy Right Act of 1998, enacted by Congress protect this work from piracy and any transmission, trade, or sale through means electronic, printed, shared, or otherwise is strictly prohibited and will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law.

Published by Dark Desire Publishing at the Paranormal Quill.

Coverart Design by Dark Water Arts Designs

Dedication and Acknowledgements

With thanks to Indie Editor Nancy Winterburn Tulloch, who keeps me on the straight and narrow – you’re the best.

In loving memory of Natasha Porter, your life was cut short far too soon but you touched the hearts of so many. I miss you every day.

The Straits of Bosporus lay not far ahead and were within her grasp. The shores of Greece, where asylum could be pled, lay just beyond the cliff, but first, before all else, Portia had to reach the sea. As she reached the cliff, the howling of Lordless hounds haunted the air with a familiar call – one she had heard Lordless times when other women had attempted escape.

He’s coming, Portia whispered. He is coming to claim me once more.

Years of bondage, torment, and forced servitude had taken a toll; not only on her body but also on her soul. Living or dying no longer mattered – all that mattered was being free.

Portia, she heard him scream.

Today shall be the last time he calls my name, she whispered, standing perilously close to the cliff’s edge and the jagged rocks below. Without a second thought, Portia allowed her feet to slip from beneath her just as the tide swelled and the sea opened itself to catch her beleaguered body. The water was welcoming, even receiving of her – like an old friend who longed for an embrace.

Despite the peril faced, Portia was willing to die if it meant freedom.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter two

Chapter Three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter One

Selling of a Soul

––––––––

The beginning of each day had been much the same since the death of her mother. Portia of Segoia stood staring from the balcony of her father’s castle to the lands below, dreaming of the one who would rescue her. Perchance if prayer was submitted with purity and dedication, a knight would come. Yet years had passed and despite her constant prayers no one had come for her. At sixteen years of age, if an arranged suitor was not presented, her dreams of escaping the Strigia Fortress would be naught. She stood, watching for any man, regardless of his stature, who would take her far from the daily hell Portia was forced to endure.

Portia was the image of her mother, dark and mystical, with skin the same as milk, hair as dark as night, and possessed with the same spark and spirit of her mother. Even her eyes mirrored the woman she could barely remember – a woman whose mere mention caused Portia to be an ever-present thorn in her father’s side. Nicolai Strigia made mention of the resemblance more times than Portia cared to remember and not in a pleasant manner. Her mother lay cold in the ground now for near eight years and was not dead but two months when her father wed and bedded Janessa Antenescu of Moldova. Soon, Portia had a sister whom she cared little for and loved even less.

There was no love lost between them though; Portia attempted her best at behaving as was expected. From the moment Alessandra took her first breath, Portia was relegated from Portia Luce Strigia of Moldova to Portia Luce Strigia of Segoia - a title once held by her mother, which held little sway or power in the Carpathian Mountains. In a single act by Nicolai Strigia, Portia was relegated to having no wealth and was nearly a bastard child. Her name no longer had meaning within the Strigia household since the death of her mother, the marriage of her father to Janessa, and the birth of Alessandra. Portia of Segoia was the same as dead.

In the hopes of obtaining an arranged marriage to a suitor somewhat suitable, Portia spent her days with the chapel Priests, schooling herself in what she believed were admirable qualities for a wife to possess. Her handwriting was impeccable, bordering on what one might see from a lady at court or even the Queen herself. The knowledge she possessed regarding astronomy was far greater than even the Priests, and reciting Psalms could be done without question. Portia understood well the world surrounding her and spoke four languages fluently in the hopes of obtaining a suitor from another land. What would be viewed as valuable assets became her main concern, especially after the birth of her half-sister.

Alessandra was slight, fair, and adored by all. Precedence was given in all matters, though she was not the eldest as would be customary. While Portia wore the gowns of a common noble-woman plain and unadorned, Alessandra wore the gowns comparable to that of a Lady in Waiting. It was rumored amongst the servants that she was to become a fixture in King Matthias’s court as a hand-maiden to Queen Catherine. Portia dared to hope it true for then she would no longer be required to look upon her.

Her thoughts were quieted at the calling of her name.

Lady Portia, we have guests, Lady Beklea called to her through the closed door. Your father demands your presence.

She sighed deeply. The one person within the castle walls Portia despised more greatly than her step-mother was Lady Beklea - the homely and unwed sister of her stepmother. The kindness shown was but a façade, a necessary requirement to exist beneath the roof of her father. Portia straightened her dress before walking toward the door.

The length of the corridor was dim, not nearly as brightly lit as was the norm, but it did not occur to Portia it was intentional. She merely considered Simar had not yet come to light the torches. It was not until Lady Beklea stepped away from her and the rustling of many was heard in the darkness Portia understood. She found their hands about her, restraining her, pulling her into restraints. Her foot came forward quickly, catching one of her attackers in the groin, taking him straight to the ground in agony. His groans were quickly stifled not by another but by the cloth and hideous mixture placed over Portia’s face. What dim light was prevalent faded and darkness became her world.

Her head ached with a dull, pounding thud which rumbled like thunder in her ears. The stringent scent of unknown herbs lingered as Portia reached forward in the darkness attempting to locate where she had been taken. It was known King Matthias kept many whores to satisfy his wanton and uncontrollable lust. Portia prayed this was not where her captors were taking her as she attempted to gain her bearings but also knew it would be a life better than the one she was living. At least King Matthias would treat her well, provide for her, and shower her with many gifts. His whores were held in high regard unlike many of the other Kings who kept mistresses within their keep. Her struggling drew the attention of those who lurked in the darkness.

It is useless to resist. The voice was deep, not known to her, and somewhat frightening.

Do you know who I am? Portia asked.

Who you were matters little now.

Her hand instinctively shielded her eyes as the smell of sulfur permeated the air before the great flash of light happened, meant to keep her temporarily blinded to prevent a clear view of her captors.

If it is ransom you desire, you have taken the wrong woman from the Strigia court. My father will not pay, not for me.

His laughter confused Portia as she fumbled in the darkness for any item familiar but found none.

There is no reason for ransom, milady, when one has been sold into bondage.

Her heart sank. Despite the hatred her father held toward her mother, she not once had seen such cruelty as this in him.

You speak lies, Portia hissed between her tears.

What reason have I to speak a lie? Perchance were I a man who sought ransom, then falsehoods would slip between my lips sweet and grand to raise the bounty higher, but you have no worth now but the pleasure of your flesh.

The putrid smell from the corridor came about her once more as his heavy breathing came closer and closer. Portia stumbled, tripping in the darkness over the unseen, reaching to find any item to steady her stance but found only the henchman’s boots. Her balance seemed off, compromised by whatever they had given her. As she forced herself deeper into the darkness surrounding her, Portia realized it was not a room in which she was held but a ship. Tears formed in her eyes, trickling down her cheeks, as the reality of her situation settled upon her. What the stranger had said was true.

What price was paid? Portia demanded. I will not fight so long as it is the truth you speak.

What difference can knowing the truth make? her captor asked with indifference. You will become but one of many, and should he take a liking to you, perchance maybe your youth and beauty can allow what befalls you to be far less than what it could be. Be obedient and you might live more than a fortnight.

Is this how you speak to all women held against their will? Do you speak such lies in an attempt to cause discomfort for them or to satisfy your own guilt?

The rush of wind met her face before his hand made contact, knocking Portia to the floor. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth as she paused to regain her composure.

You think it wise to damage the prize before it has been delivered? she shouted into the darkness.

That is but a small taste of what you will endure should you not learn to hold that tongue of yours.

I am a woman of means. My mother’s dowry was quite large and was placed in trust upon her death. All you need allow is a simple letter to my grandfather for release.

He laughed a laugh both sadistic and foretelling.

That, milady, is in your father’s possession, sent for under the pretense of marriage. His bed has been made through alliances a woman could not possibly understand, no matter how learned she might be.

Attempting to reason with him was futile. He was what her mother had called a man of despicable means. There was a single task at hand – to take Portia to her new master and collect his share. She prayed as she hid in the darkness the share this man meant to collect did not involve her flesh.

Chapter Two

The Hiding of a Prince

––––––––

How fares my son, Lady Mara? Vladimir asked while pacing before the large Cypress doors leading to his dining hall, overwhelmed at the prospect of seeing his son for the first time since sending Marcus to live under the roof of his beloved’s brother.

He is well, my lord, and greatly loved by Lord Bogdon.  You could not have chosen a better or finer man to see your son into his adulthood. Lady Anna loves your son as though he was her own. He has grown into a fine man and shall make a loyal and just Prince when his time comes.

Lady Mara watched as Vladimir wrung his hands in despair. Despite fourteen years passing, his grief over the murder of his wife had not left him despite the passing of fourteen years. Marcus Draegan was the image of his mother with his father’s temperament – a temperament which often led to heated arguments within the castle over obedience and what he believed to be insolence