Breaking the Barbarian Ch. 05

I felt someone shifting beneath me. Firm hands grasped at my arms and hips, pulling me away.

The mist faded and I was upon my back. All three nuns were at my side, their comforting hands caressing my twitching, broken body.

The apparition of Morwenna was gone. I would never really know for sure if I had been granted a divine visitation, or if that had been an intense illusion inflicted by the potion, the pain, and the pleasure.

Whatever the truth of the matter, tears still brimmed in my eyes as I trembled beneath the gentle touch of my lovers. Soft murmurs of reassurance filled my ears. The pain in my back and body faded as they prayed and ran their soothing hands over me.

So broken, battered, and overjoyed by that experience, I barely even remembered the nuns walking me back to Isidora's quarters. I slipped into a dreamless slumber, untroubled by visions of Hoskuld or Grozdan.

**

I stood on the pier at Surta's Gate. Behind me, Orgumir oversaw the embarking of my warriors upon the ship that would take us home. Also going aboard were barrels of wine from Etmorra's finest wineries: a token of gratitude, along with a taste of what the north could have if they deepened trade relations with the island.

Before me stood a dozen nuns of the Sisterhood and Rikard. In the aftermath of Grozdan's downfall and due to the lack of any other claimants, the barons had declared the old man as their new duke, much to his chagrin.

Grinning, the new duke stepped forward and wrapped me in a fierce embrace.

"You know," he said. "A part of me almost wishes you'd been a bit slower in rescuing me. Then I'd have just gotten my head lopped off and I wouldn't have had to worry about all these new ducal duties."

I laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"You can handle it, my lord. Your people are in good hands."

"Aye," he said, glancing back at the nuns. "They are. Because I'll have the Sisterhood at my side."

He clasped my shoulders.

"Do not be a stranger, Anvarr. You and your warriors will always be welcome here. As traders, as mercenaries, as visitors...it matters not."

After another embrace, the new duke walked back up the pier to reunite with his wife and his waiting knights.

Isidora, Catriona, and Miriam stepped forward.

Sorrow gripped my heart and tension gripped my throat. This was not a farewell I'd been looking forward to. Gods, how I would miss their wicked and caring touch...

I would also miss the strange practices of the Sisterhood itself. During my weeks on Etmorra I had only barely scratched the surface of their faith, and still found myself wanting to learn more. I wanted to embrace more pain, to languish in the beauty of surrender.

And yet there was no reason I still could not learn. Etmorra was not that far of a journey from Kovgaard, and if we strengthened trade ties, I could make regular return trips.

My smile returned as the three nuns lifted their veils.

"That's a violation of the rules, is it not?" I asked.

"Indeed," Isidora said with a warm smile. "So the three of us will have to punish each other quite severely."

My warm laugh burst out across the sea. Tears brimmed in Catriona's eyes and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Thank you," she murmured. "For helping our people. For sharing your body and heart with us."

Catriona stepped back, wiped at her eyes, then pressed a book into my hands.

I flipped it open, my eyes widening when I realized it was a book on the Sisterhood's herblore, translated into the runic language of Kovgaard.

"It's from the archives," she murmured. "It may be of some use for your witches and shamans, to give them a deeper understanding of the natural world."

Mischief twinkled in her dark, tearful eyes.

"And I'm working on translating the books on bondage and submission, too. So when you visit us next, I'll have a far more fun book ready for you."

Smiling, I leaned down and gave her a soft kiss.

"Thank you, Catriona. For saving me on the beach. For punishing me. For everything you've taught me."

After another embrace, the sniffling redhead stepped back.

Miriam closed in. She reached out and pulled at the front of my tunic, exposing the sacred collar around my neck.

"You're not going to get a tearful embrace from me," she murmured, her fingers brushing over the collar. "But you will receive a stern command to return here as soon as you can. I have so many more things to teach you..."

With that, the former thief leaned in and gave me a quick, savage kiss. Growling, she bit down on my lip so fiercely that it nearly drew blood. Her hands clutched at my hips, then she gave my abused lip an apologetic little lick.

Miriam then slipped three sheathed knives into my belt.

"Some of the finest blades I own. Blessed by a priest-smith from the mainland. May they protect you as well as they protected me."

My fingers brushed over the knives with all the reverence they deserved, and Miriam stepped back.

Isidora closed in, her hands clasped around a small wooden box.

Her warm gray eyes bored into mine as she flipped the lid open. Within was a blindfold, bundles of hempen rope, and the same flogger they'd tortured me with.

"Find yourself a woman in Kovgaard worthy of using these upon you."

Her eyes twinkled.

"And send her here for 'lessons' if she requires instruction on the use of these sacred implements."

The Mother Superior raised her hand and cupped my cheek.

"May Saint Morwenna bless your path, Anvarr."

I closed my eyes and turned my head so I could kiss her fingers.

"And may she bless yours, your holiness. And may she guide me back to you."

"The sooner the better."

"Absolutely," I said, opening my eyes and beaming.

She stepped back and lowered her veil. After taking several moments to regard the veiled beauty of the nuns, I took a deep breath and marched down the pier. The collar around my neck flared with warmth, sending a surge of strength through my body.

Just another illusion or a trick of the senses? Or a fragment of Saint Morwenna's power?

The truth did not matter. All that mattered was the honor I'd restored and the truths the Sisterhood had shown me.

***

Author's Note: This marks the end of Anvarr's adventures for now. If you would like to read more of this setting (and learn more about Anvarr's people and some of the events referenced in this series), be sure to check out the 'Duchess of Lust' series. And if you are interested in an even deeper dive into Kovgaardian storylines, be sure to follow me so you can follow along with my upcoming series focusing on the adventures of a Kovgaardian witch.

I hope you enjoyed; thanks for reading!