Our story began here.
Home for the Heart
Fear had acceded to Katrin’s wish to delay their departure for one more day. Although she really would have preferred a week, she thought ruefully as she eased her behind onto the seat of the coach.
It would take many days to reach Downley and despite her punishment she wanted to make the most of them before they reached home where they would have to have separate rooms.
“Are you still angry with me?” she said shyly and then winced as the padded seat proved too hard.
He snorted in amusement as she jerked to her feet and scowled at him.
“It looks like you will have to kneel up on the seat,” he said with a smirk.
Katrin blushed, her chastisement was probably already the talk of Timon and she wasn’t going to give anyone the satisfaction by giving them such a humiliating display. But a second attempt to sit transferred the ache to her face and she openly winced again as she took some weight on her hands.
“Perhaps once we are on the open road I might be permitted to kneel on the floor,” she said tartly with an exaggerated tone of dignity.
“Perhaps I should pin your skirts up and make you kneel on the outrigger,” Fear teased her.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Katrin gasped, very much afraid that he might.
He laughed and then sighed, “It’s a long journey; I’ll put a cushion on the floor once we are out of sight of the city. But remember I haven’t finished with you,” he added with a frown.
Katrin tried to glower at him, but that ended in a blush and she cast her gaze downwards. Then the coach pulled away with a lurch and Katrin was thrown back hard upon her bottom.
“Ooh sheeesh,” she groaned, adding ruefully, “Maybe I’ll just risk kneeling right off.”
Fear indulged her with a smile and tossed a cushion at her from the seat beside him.
“Thanks,” Katrin said shyly.
*
Downley appeared as it always had, solid and permanent with its grey and red brick walls and high ground floor windows, a legacy from more dangerous times. Katrin frowned at the thought. When had things been more dangerous than now, she mused. But as she took in the scene another thought entered her mind. This is where it all began. Katrin sighed.
The trees that framed the house were still dressed in summer green, but here and there a yellowing interloper could be seen among the leaves and one or two of these had been shed like premature confetti for an unconfirmed wedding.
The only thing that had changed was perhaps the track that led to the front apron. It was more rutted than Katrin remembered and as the coach lurched she praised the fact that her bottom was no longer quite so tender as it had been almost a week before when they had set out from the capital.
“Are you sure I will be welcome here?” Fear asked in his serious voice.
Katrin took his arm and grinned.
“Of course, father was very clear about that,” she nodded enthusiastically. “A De Lacy woman taking a lover is a scandal somewhere well below one becoming an apprentice to a Magus. Besides, the war makes everything seem so… unimportant now.”
Fear smiled back allowing an escape of air through his nose. The best he could manage by way of a laugh just then. After all, Lord De Lacy, as he now was, was not a man to be trifled with and no amount of magic would protect him from a jealous father.
“You’re nervous,” Katrin gasped in amusement.
Fear became uncomfortable and shifted on his seat.
“I wasn’t always a mage,” he said, “I remember climbing out of young girls’ bedrooms with an angry Papa in pursuit.”
Katrin giggled and Fear returned a broad grin that lasted all the way to the front door of the house.
Delia Cain stood impassively on the front step and beside her were two maids; Ellen, who Katrin knew well and another, a short rust-haired girl with too many freckles.
Katrin noted that her former governess who was now her father’s mistress had small flecks of white in her immaculate black hair, but far from looking older, she looked younger than before. Katrin noted with amused approval that the woman had made no concession to vanity with regard to her hair. Not because she was against such things, but because the woman had thrashed her many times for just such a crime.
Katrin and Delia eyed each other, both with a slight blush touching their faces. Both had been severely punished at the other’s hands, Katrin extensively over several years. But at their last such encounter it had been Delia who had suffered.
“My lady, I am so glad to see you,” the former governess gushed.
“Delia,” Katrin said warmly.
After a pause they embraced as if Mark had indeed married her.
“Lord Downley is…”
Katrin giggled at the pompous opening and Delia smiled.
“Your father is in his study, he’s been working for days,” she said with a laugh as she caught herself on. Then to Fear she offered a small bow. “Welcome Arch Magus, Trudy will show you to your room.”
Fear remembered that Ellen was the taller maid and so offered his smile to Trudy who giggled and stared back at him in awe. Katrin saw the exchange and pursed her lips in disapproval.
“Thank you Mistress Cain,” Fear said pleasantly and then reached out to rescue his bag from the struggling Trudy.
*
Mark De Lacy, the newly made Count of Downley, was framed by the door of his study as Katrin entered the front hallway. For a moment his face had a thunderous look as if he had lost something and was still looking for it. His stern countenance seemed to scan his daughter for the least thing worthy of his approval.
The woman he now faced looked like his daughter, but she was now grown and poised like her mother and the old nobleman scarce recognised her. The he saw her scowl as she had as a child, a small crinkle marring the bridge of her nose. In his mind he heard her say ‘oh Daddy’ and his face cracked into a smile and he grinned.
Katrin abandoned dignity and sprang across the hall into his arms.
“Oh Daddy,” she cried.
The County swept her up into his arms and did a pirouette for a full circle. As they returned to face the door Mark caught Fear’s eye and mouthed the words, ‘thank you.’
“I trust your journey was acceptable,” Mark said at last as he returned to a more dignified posture, “The roads are so terrible at the moment, I have to attend a county committee meeting next week to discuss it. The damn war you know.”
“We stopped off at a few inns on the road,” Katrin said sheepishly with a blush. Memories of the night before assailed her and she was certain that her father knew.
“As you say the roads were quite bad my lord,” Fear put in.
Mark nodded and smiled awkwardly at his rival for Katrin’s affections.
“Are you here for long? I mean, perhaps tomorrow I could organise a hunt?” he asked carefully.
Katrin beamed at him and did a girlish half bounce as if the prospect of riding the estate was all she dreamed of.
“We are in no particular rush,” Fear said, “But I am afraid Katrin and I have something else to attend to tomorrow and I doubt that our girl will want very much to sit a horse for a few days after that.”
Katrin gaped and rounded on her man, her face crimson at such words being spoken before the servants.
“Ah,” Mark said, but a small smirk touch his face and he rubbed it away with his hand. “What has she done now?”
“Oh nothing as yet, I rather suspect that she wouldn’t dare,” Fear said sharply, his eyes defying Katrin to berate him. “But we have still to resolve the matter of our girl’s incursion onto the battlefield against orders.”
She knew ‘that look’ and swallowing her embarrassment ducked her head.
“What still?” Mark said with a frown.
“We had another issue to resolve before that and have been on the road since,” Fear replied, I thought it prudent, not to mention kinder to defer the matter until our arrival.”
“Absolutely,” Mark said casually, “Not my business anyway,” he added looking at Katrin significantly, “Not these days. Delia will attend to anything you need.”
Delia, who had been standing discreetly back, looked dismayed at the suggestion she should get involved and to cover her embarrassment made scolding faces at Ellen and Trudy, ushering them away.
“Oh I think I can handle things,” Fear said, still looking at Katrin, “But I trust you will not be disturbed by the noise and any undignified displays? I mean to make a point.”
“Oh it is of no account,” Mark said dismissively, “These walls have seen worse. Come and have a drink.”
Katrin gulped and ducked her head again.
“Come on I know I…” she wailed, but it sounded far too childish to continue and she settle for offering the retreating men a rueful pout.
*
Katrin felt silly getting up so early. After all, who would know if she didn’t? But Fear had been very specific and in very certain terms he had explained what would happen if he even suspected that she had not obeyed him.
Worse than surrendering to a punishment of her accord was the attire she had to wear. The brief muslin shift was ridiculously short and the thin material was no protection against the pre-dawn chill. She particularly resented the way in which the cloth just covered her in front so as to give a veneer of respectability to her shame, but was hopelessly revealing behind even if she tugged the cloth down at the back.
An inspection over her shoulder in the long mirror in her room showed exposed bottom cheeks well below the hem. She glowered angrily at the display and made to stamp her foot. Damn the man, he is so strict and father thinks it is funny.
What made her all the more apprehensive was that the only clothing she had been permitted, no required to put on, were stiff canvas slippers of the kind that she might wear for gardening. This was more than a hint that she would be taken outside, which in her current mode of dress was mortifying.
But it had happened before now. Life under Delia’s hand had often led to such experiences and she blushed at the memory. In her mind she reluctantly prayed that Fear intended to switch her, but she rather suspected that her morning would be spent gathering birch rods for a stiffer sanction.
The worst part of that was that she would be outside all the longer and at greater risk of being seen.
However, before that she had to go down to the morning room and stand in the corner with her hands on her head and be there when the first of the household had risen. Damn the man.
Katrin felt an absolute fool as she faced the corner of the room and for a long minute or two she contemplated sitting in the window seat until she heard the maid get up. But servants were such quiet creatures and it was a certainty that Trudy or Ellen would appear announced and see that she had not obeyed her master.
She could hear Fear now, “I trust all was in order when you came down?”
The maid would blush and stammer her betrayal even if unintended. And even if Fear questioned only her, she would fail in a lie. Damn the man.
Katrin gave a heavy sigh and silently cursed the corner before striding defiantly into it. My hands don’t need to go on my head right away, she thought, but her arms lifted without volition and her fingers found their way to her crown and locked themselves there. It was a kind of magic, she thought bitterly. Damn the man.
*
Katrin first sensed, rather than heard Trudy gaping at her predicament from the middle of the room. She had been standing with her nose in the corner shivering at the chill around her exposed bottom for some time. Not long enough for her arms to ache overmuch, but she had long enough to zone out a little. Perhaps that’s how the maid had entered the room unheard.
“Eh… my lady I…” Trudy stammered.
Katrin felt a blast of shame flood her face and bit back a hint of tears.
“It’s alright… Trudy isn’t it? Just go about your work,” Katrin said in a rather wan voice, “I am sure you have seen a punished girl before.”
“Yes Ma’am, Ellen and I are often in that very corner. Mistress Cain is most… I mean,” Trudy realised that she was being over familiar and felt her buttocks clench, “Well yes… eh… my lady… I’ll… the grate… yes ma’am.”
Trudy gaped once more at the sphere of Katrin’s exposed hips and the tight curves of the deeply split bottom so humbled before her. Here and there were tiny traces of brown and yellow bruising, belying a previous spanking of some sort. But those marks were old and did nothing to mar her master’s daughter’s astonishing beauty.
Trudy was glad that her own bottom was not so inviting or Delia would have blistered her much more often than once a week, she thought ruefully, her hand straying to rub at her behind.
Then thoughts of a spanking and her own bottom spurred her back to work. In a moment she was on her knees humming into the grate as she washed it down and got ready to replace the flowers that adorned it during the summer months. Another few weeks and I will have to start lighting it, she mused absently.
“La, la, da,” she sang much to Katrin’s annoyance.
*
Half an hour after Trudy’s appearance the house came fully alive and it seemed that the morning room had more visitors than a seed table in an orchard.
Every one of these unwelcome witnesses paused significantly at Katrin’s exposure and either coughed and left the room, as her father had, or made an amused sound like Ellen’s giggle.
Only Delia tried to ignore Katrin’s plight, but not having to meet the young journeyman’s eyes, she found herself remembering when the tables had been turned and the suffering had been hers.
It was an amusing enough thrill when one’s own bottom was not for the chop, she thought with a shrug, and no harm would come of it. After all it was just a colourful tradition they all suffered from time to time, even Delia when Mark put his mind to it. It would probably do the proud Katrin De Lacy some good.
Knowing Delia was behind her watching, Katrin sighed and renewed her acquaintance with the fresh hot blood at her cheeks. The whole house was drinking in her curves for amusement and she couldn’t even look them in the eye and say it wasn’t fair. Not really. Oh damn the man. Involuntarily she stamped her foot and a tear rolled down one cheek.
Delia just had to giggle at that.
“Poor girl,” she muttered, “But you have had worse and it will soon be over.”
*
Finally Fear arrived and stood with his arms folded regarding his love.
“Turn around,” he said in a dark rich voice.
All resentment drained from Katrin then and she slowly turned and looked at the mage sheepishly, nervously biting her lower lip.
“You are a student of Pandoria, my young apprentice. It is a disciplined life and one that requires active thought and active decisions. Am I correct?” Fear said calmly.
Katrin blanched and nodded. She hadn’t seen Fear so angry.
“You of all people should be aware of dark subtle forces and the importance of consulting with someone more experienced before yielding to such influences,” Fear continued. “That you were ‘drawn’ to the battlefield is a case in point. Where was your will? Can you tell me that you would do so again, if you were in your right mind I mean?”
Katrin swallowed. She hadn’t seen it like that before and if it had been anyone else on the battlefield she would have kicked herself for yielding to such a summoning.
“But I…” Katrin said in woeful voice.
“What did you? Saved the day did you? It is possible. We will never know now will we? I might have prevailed anyway. But what you must see, what it is essential that you understand is…” Fear sounded urgent now and took a step forward so that she backed away. “…that-is-not-the-point.”
Katrin swallowed and averted her eyes as if looking for an answer in the recently cleaned grate.
“We have a great power you and I. And with it comes a great responsibility. A cliché I know, but it is true. You cannot be so susceptible to outside impulses,” Fear hissed at her, “Can’t you see that?”
Katrin tightened her jaw and unfocussed her eyes. The sensation had come from within, she was sure of it? Wasn’t she? Doubt filled her now. She didn’t know, not for sure. It had seemed to be the right thing at the time. But she remembered the Beast and how it had assailed her. If she had been as weak then… she shuddered.
“I see you begin to understand,” Fear sighed.
Katrin licked her lips and offered him the merest of nods.
“Now this is your home, you were punished here,” Fear said gently. “It made you who you are and… and that brings me to the most important thing. Here you are safe, here you can make mistakes. And as we go on, I will be your home. But if you ever, and I mean ever, put your life so recklessly in danger, regardless of what you have been told. Then my precious love I will put you so firmly in your place that you might not sit down for a month.”
Fear seized her by the shoulders then and shook her.
“Do you hear me?” he barked. “I don’t care if you are a mage or even make it to being the Grand Magus, you will deal with me in such matters.”
It was a promise, an eternal promise and Katrin’s heart pounded in her chest. What did it mean?
“Has it not occurred to you why your family, your father has permitted me to handle you so?” Fear allowed a small light to his eyes.
Lifting her head to meet his face, Katrin’s eyes darted back and forth in her head as she tried to contemplate the unfathomable. The hope was exquisite and she could not name it even to herself.
“Last night I asked your father for your hand in marriage and he agreed,” Fear said in a calm slow voice.
Katrin’s eyes went wide and she could not help smiling.
“But we can’t… you’re a mage and I’m… the rules… what about…?” she gabbled.
“I am Arch Magus and I make my own rules,” Fear said sharply, there was danger written in his eyes, “If necessary we leave Pandoria and I will train you myself. I know enough to get you to adept level in any discipline you chose,” he promised.
“But…” there was one more thing; it escaped her like a mot in the eye as she confronted it.
“Katrin De Lacy… Lady Katrin, Journeyman of Pandoria, will you consent to be my wife?” Fear did not go down on one knee as was traditional, that would have been absurd in the circumstances, but he made a curt bow like a courtier.
Katrin felt a flash of pride, not to be asked, but as a noblewoman who had been so scarcely regarded in a marriage deal. But then she remembered that she was half naked and until a moment before had been standing in the corner like a naughty youngster.
The internal dialogue might have continued but the explosion of joy overtook her and rushed at the man clung to him for her soul’s existence.
“You bastard,” she wept.
“Is that a yes?” he grinned, tears pooling at his own eyes. “I know… I mean I hadn’t intended to ask you until after… but…”
Katrin nodded. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered.
“Can we tell father?” she gushed.
Then Fear frowned.
“Not just now, we have something left to attend to, don’t we?” he said.
Katrin gaped. “That’s not fair,” she wailed. “I mean it is but…”
Her mind was in turmoil.
“I mean to start as we will continue, do you understand?” he said sternly.
“Yes Sir,” she replied with a bite of her lip.
“Now let’s get this over with,” Fear sighed.
*
Katrin walked at a nervous crouch as if lowering her body would lower the hem of her impossibly short shift. At that moment even the prospect of marriage, a happy arrangement that whirled around in her head like a drunken bee, could distract her from her mortifying plight.
Fear had led her through a side door of the house and onto the small lawn that abutted the house between the west wing and the woods at the edge of the estate.
As she shivered and cowered on the step, Katrin noted the unkempt grass that was now ankle deep and wondered when the gardeners would return to see to it. It was a stray thought that kept her sane but it led her to hope that there would be few if any estate workers about to see her so exposed. She shivered again, this time not from the cold and blushed, the heat on her face in contrast to the chill about her legs and the lower curves of her naked bottom.
It was still yet early and it was not until they stepped out of the shadows that the sun felt warm. But still Katrin shivered and looked nervously about for any glimpse of a witness.
It was not the first time that she had been half-naked out of doors to be sent to collect birch rods or a switch, but it had been a long time since and in another life. She was well past 21 now and might be considered far too old for such a shameful indignity, but the truth of her life was that it was not for her to say.
In the panicked circle of emotions in her head this last idea was actually a comfort and led her to think again of her sudden betrothal to her master. She glanced back at Fear behind her and gave him a shy rueful smile.
He scowled at her and pointed angrily at the woods ahead.
For a moment he reminded her of Dniester, and what the old uncompromising wizard might have been like in his younger life. Despite everything she had a love for that old bastard too. But it was a transitory thought overtaken by the Arch Mage’s sharp directing finger that not only had to be obeyed, but directed her to the relative sanctuary of the trees where she might not be seen.
Still at an undignified crouch, Katrin scurried across the lawn to a gap between a holly bush and an old rowan tree quickly gaining the welcome chill of the shade.
“I am trying to make a point here and you just make cow eyes at me,” Fear snapped at her. “I have a good mind to march you down to the village to find the makings, down to the village on the open road,” he added.
“But its four miles,” Katrin gasped, “And everyone would see. I’d never live it down.”
She tugged at the front of her shift defensively, glad that at least it offered some covering, but that only raised the hem at the rear even more and did nothing to mitigate her plight.
Fear couldn’t help enjoying this more humble demeanour of hers. He had no intention of being as cruel as all that and he doubted that Mark would approve anyway. In fact he had taken care the day before to ascertain that most of the men and estate workers had yet to return from the war and that the only likely witnesses, if any, would be women and the very young.
However, Katrin did not know of any of this and she would squirm a little in sacrifice to his very sharp point of view on her discipline.
“So what, you will learn to obey,” he said, his voice hard. “I might even pause there at the tavern for an ale. You would look cute standing in the corner by the bar or does the village have some stocks? I could stay for lunch perhaps,” he teased.
Katrin’s jaw hung low and she blanched. It was impossible to tell if he were serious. He was certainly angry enough at her failings. And she had made a commitment in her heart years before that she was his no matter what and that she would submit to all. That morning’s betrothal only reinforced that.
Remembering that she felt a tickling warm glow that extended to between her legs, despite it all, this submission was a thrill. For a moment this comfort dulled her plight and she came again full circle in her emotions.
“Your eyes are smiling again,” he barked, do you think I am playing games?”
“No Sir,” she said hastily and ducked away deeper into the woods praying that he would not carry out his threat.
*
The forest was alive with birdsong that trilled in counterpoint as myriad flocks announced the intruders in their midst. The day was becoming warmer now and the sun had now journeyed above the tree tops and rained sunbeams through the canopy like curtains of light.
If Katrin had not had been almost naked and on her way to collect punishment rods for her bare bottom, she would have thrilled at the day. Drawing on the patterns, she saw it all in vivid swirls which overlaid the perfect mundane. Water and Earth power surged through it all until the forest resembled a garden for the gods in which late summer butterflies danced on air before alighting on luminescent flowers.
Katrin stopped and sighed, drinking in the scene as balm to her soul. For just a moment her nudity felt like an appropriate sacrifice to it all.
Fear might have scolded her, but he too saw it and all it might be. It was all there to be shaped to his will, a garden in which he could play like a deity. But a true master knew when to withhold his hand… and shifting to the mundane he studied the greater beauty of Katrin’s curve… and when to commit.
“Come on,” he chided her.
After a bit they broke from the trees and onto a track that Katrin knew led to the road to town. The wagon ruts in the ground were partially overgrown like a newly healed scar. It was another sign that there were few people about.
Nevertheless Fear’s threat assailed her and she bit her lip as if to prevent the heart in mouth tumbling onto the ground.
“What is the furthest you have ever been to collect birch rods?” Fear asked casually.
Katrin gulped and pointed deeper into the woods. She could not lie.
“A mile further on is the edge of some farm land. The best switches grow where it is most exposed to the field,” she said woodenly, staring at him expectantly.
“There are none closer?” he asked.
But he looked thoughtfully in the direction she had pointed and nodded in approval so that Katrin felt sick. As a girl it had been shameful to be watched by field hands as she collected switches. Delia had been cruel and she hated such punishments worse than any other.
She swallowed hard and in a hopeless voice replied, “Only back near the house where switches were cut for winter punishments.”
Fear nodded again and said, “I am enjoying this walk. I will remember it well. We will make a turn of the grounds and return for those.”
For a moment Katrin was terrified that he would lead them up the track to the village road but after a pause he turned the other way to follow the path deeper into the trees.
“You bastard,” Katrin sighed with relief. But she was careful to keep her words well under her gentle breath.
*
Katrin now stood facing the wall in what had been her old school room. In the middle of the room someone had thoughtfully pulled the flogging bench from the wall and dusted it down. The windows had been left open to air the room, which now smelt of polish and old leather.
Coupled with the walk in the woods and the undignified collection of birch rods, Katrin felt utterly humbled. Old feelings of scolding and tummy nerves tumbled through her mind and soul. She was transported back to endless schoolroom days and shameful spankings while maids tittered at the door, all this on the day she had been betrothed; long would it be a memorable one. She felt her face flush.
There were several birch rods now steeping in buckets and Katrin had no idea if he would use one or many. In her surrender she found it did not concern her. Her man would decide.
There it was again, the circle of bitter thrills. Her heart lurched again.
She looked closely at the wall in front of her nose until it defocussed and excluded the room behind her. Then she imagined she was in the corner at the inn with a gang of smirking labourers and shopkeepers all enjoying the view. Belly tightening shame flooded her and she shifted a little in her fantasy.
The stocks were harder for her to picture. But she wondered if she would mind the game so much if they were already married and about to leave the next day. Married, she gasped inwardly forgetting the inn. There it was again, the circle of bitter thrills. The gods she was aroused.
*
An hour had passed and at last Fear called Katrin from the corner to take her place over the flogging bench.
It was an antique, brought by her mother’s father from Timon. A solid affair of dark oak with a soft leather ‘ladies’ saddle’ on top of the frame. There was a place to kneel and bend right over or the furniture could be adjusted to hold a miscreant with straps.
Delia had made much use of it for birching Katrin in former days and no doubt from time to time the maids still felt the benefit. But Katrin had always wondered if her mother had suffered on the contraption or her grandmother, and how many before that?
Delia had told that her grandfather had given it to Mark as a wedding present. Thanks grandfather, she thought ruefully, I bet mother really appreciated that too.
It now stood before her like a threat and she scowled at it as if it were an old unwelcome friend at a feast.
“I am going to put you across my knee and spank you first,” Fear said and took her arm.
The reprieve was a pyric one. Katrin found herself upended over Fear’s knee and snuggled down with her bare bottom upper most. Exploring her generous curves with is hand he set the target area tingling in expectation. Then just as she began to enjoy it he let fly with a sharp slap that made her squeal.
There was no gentle warm up for her, Fear just set to spanking her soundly until she bucked and gasped over his knee. Within in moments her bottom was deeply red with fingertip blotches quickly merging into one.
“Have I been a cruel master?” he asked his voice a low rumble now.
“No Sir,” she groaned.
“Am I unjust now?” he murmured, his hand made an extra hard effort.
She sniffed and rapidly shook her head.
The spanking made tangy echoes of the walls and ceilings and there was no doubt it could be heard by anyone who came close enough to listen. The hand on flesh was so distinct that the indignity was hard to disguise. Katrin blushed a colour near to rivalling her bottom at the thought of it.
“Please, they can hear, it’s embarrassing,” she wailed.
“Embarrassing is it? Perhaps you would have preferred a trip to town?” he rasped.
“Nooo,” she squealed, kicking her legs in protest.
Katrin could later have sworn that the spanking lasted a week and even Fear had to shake his bruised hand in discomfort once he finally stopped.
“The gods, your bottom is firm,” he complained.
“Oh I’m so sorry,” she said in a sullen sarcastic tone.
“Oh don’t be, I have a cure for that,” he told her.
As he put her on her feet Katrin remembered the flogging bench and the waiting switches. For the first time since he had asked her, the prospect of marriage was far from her thoughts.
“Oh,” she sighed dejectedly and then bobbed up and down in distressed frustration.
*
Hard over and bare bottom upwards Katrin felt so vulnerable. She was still pondering this when the room was filled with a rattling-roar like wet hail on a tin roof. The shush-thwack that followed ended at her bottom and the breath-taking impact was followed by fire.
“Aiyeee,” Katrin shrieked.
It was a betrayal of her resolve and with white knuckles on wood she swallowed down air in a resolve to do better. She did for a count of four, but then the fire on fire was continuous and pain danced across her face.
“I… I… I…” she muttered over and over rolling with the burn.
Her thighs were now lightly sheened with sweat which loaned a gloss to the polished red that bubbled on her bottom. In response Katrin sniffed back unbidden nasal moisture, but a bead of water rolled from one eye around her nose down to her philtrum.
The next blast of the rod drew another scream and Katrin tumbled into true sobbing. Then with each further rain of pain she let out with something like, “Ay-yay-aiie,” and growled in angry frustration.
Fear birched on until Katrin’s empurpled behind was temporarily ruined and the first rod was in tatters. Katrin was left prone and sobbing in the wake.
“You have a choice now,” it was cruel he knew, but she was too accepting and his point needed that she took no salvation from buried pleasures. “I can spend rods until your reserve of anger turns to full contrition and then let Delia return a favour you once did her…”
Katrin’s eyes widened and she remembered her gift of devil root and a long, long day of misery for the woman.
“…or you can stand in the corner with the door open for an hour so between bouts of correction. The latter will take near as long and be far more shaming, but physically much less demanding.”
Katrin sucked in one long miserable breath and wailed, “That is the coward’s way.”
“It is the more merciful road that leads to humility and my true purpose,” Fear said gently.
“How… h-how many more times will I be birched?” she asked humbly, her words were laden with moisture.
“Not so many if you truly understand my point,” he told her, his voice still gentle.
“I do, I do,” she wailed.
“Then what is my point?” he asked soothingly.
“That I must be strong and obey you,” she sniffed.
“Yes, but above all it is yourself you must obey if you are to command the magic isn’t it?” his palm itched and he feared he did not have enough rods.
But Katrin nodded.
“That’s what I meant by being strong,” she said.
“Truly?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Then I will thrash you twice more,” he sighed, “Once to finish you off to be sure and once more because…?”
“…a contrite bottom is more tender and willing and more fittingly learns its lesson,” she quoted.
It was one of Delia’s favourites. But until that moment she had never fully understood the truth of it. Now Fear would complete the education her governess had begun.
“Good girl,” Fear smiled.
“Thank you Sir,” Katrin said meekly, managing a smile back over her shoulder.
“Alright, now into the corner with you and don’t you dare move,” he chided her. “We will continue you this in an hour or so.”
*
Katrin lay face down on her bed in a stupor. Her long dark hair was combed out across painfully white sheets at her shoulder while her body curved elegantly on top of the bedspread. Delia ran her eye down Katrin’s prone smooth white skin, which was only interrupted by the purple welted domes jutting up like tender hills between her long legs and the narrow sculptured waist.
The former governess stood supervising Ellen who dabbed gently at her mistress’s sore bottom with a cold wet flannel. The maid was totally in awe of the raw tender aftermath of the worst punishment she had ever heard of, let alone seen.
“I half expected you to bring devil’s root balm,” Katrin said ruefully. “It would probably serve me right.”
Ellen’s eyes noticeably widened at the suggestion and she gaped at Delia for the least sign that the woman could ever do such a thing. Then drawing on personal experience she hastily concluded that she would and dipped her head to the task in hand.
“That was an option the maestro had discussed with me, but I understand that he persuaded you to another course,” Delia said gently.
“I bet you’re disappointed, but then I am disappointed with myself rather, I turned out to be a bit of a coward didn’t I?” Katrin said somberly.
“It would be hypocritical of me to deny that I wouldn’t have extracted a measure of satisfaction from a little cruel participation, but I don’t think it was needful and I think things turned out for the best,” Delia said lightly.
Katrin snorted derisively, but then shot Delia a glance and saw sincerity written there.
Katrin dropped her head and stared blankly at the pillow and beyond it to space.
“I totally surrendered you see,” she said quietly, “As meekly as any maid.”
“Well you do have a very sore bottom ma’am, I am not surprised,” Ellen piped up.
Katrin laughed, able to now, although she still remembered standing in the corner just hours before like a naughty girl set there for the edification of girls like Ellen.
“Ellen,” Delia cried impatiently, adding in an irritated voice, “You can go now.”
“Girls like that don’t understand such things as the submission of the marriage bed. But you feel stronger now don’t you?” Delia said once Ellen had gone.
Katrin nodded, but the movement brought on a wince.
“Here let me,” Delia said taking up the cloth from the bowl. “I have some kinder balm somewhere; I think you’ll going to need it.”
Katrin smiled and nodded gratefully.
*
Katrin did not emerge from her from her room until the day that followed the next. Even so she could only walk with slow careful steps and sitting down was completely out of the question.
It would be embarrassing whatever she did, but standing as in times of old to take breakfast off the dining room mantle was beyond shame. So she opted instead for standing behind her chair to pick at her plate until hunger overtook her and she could eat more enthusiastically.
Her father took scant notice of her discomfort and barely spoke a greeting until he had polished off two lengths of bacon and a sausage served with egg sauce.
“Lughnasadh is well passed and in any case propriety demands that we wait at least a month after the announcement,” he said at last.
Katrin frowned, she was unsure what he was talking about, but the question died on her lips and then intensified when her father continued with: “Mabon will serve us better anyway and you and Fear will still have time to attend the Conclave before winter.”
“Mabon, Conclave? What… what are you saying?” she asked.
“The autumn equinox is an auspicious time to be wed,” Fear said as he entered the room, “And traditional too, in lieu of a spring wedding anyway, but I don’t care to wait.”
Wedding, Katrin gaped; she hadn’t expected things to move so fast.
“In any case, I want it decided before we confront the Conclave and our friends at Pandoria,” Fear continued.
“Conclave?” Katrin said absently, but she was still thinking about a Mabon wedding.
“A messenger arrived while you were… indisposed, the Magister has called a Conclave,” Fear sighed as if he dreaded such an event.
*
They gathered under a sycamore tree outside the Temple of Hatra. The late summer had given way to autumn and the nights would soon draw in.
Although various greens still dominated the surrounding forest many of the leaves had turned golden with the occasional patch of bronze. But the day was warm and a silver yellow sun burned in a clear blue sky as sharply as any at Beltane.
The temple stood between the town of Downley and the De Lacy Estate and although it was bone white and well-furnished there was no permanent priest and the building was mostly used for storage for vessels and other equipment used in ceremonies throughout the year.
The squared-off stone was fronted by eight thick columns each representing key markers in the pagan year. This was reflected in the carvings and decoration on each pillar, beginning with imbolc and ending at yule.
Someone had decorated the temple and surrounding grounds with seasonal vines and flowers from the woodland, but the only people in visible attendance were Fear and Katrin, Mark De Lacy, Delia and the priest with the two witnesses.
The priest, Hadron, had been called upon from the town and was well-known to Katrin and her father. He was a rather dour man who never smiled except in his cups and had been the priest for years, ever since fleeing Timon a generation before following charges of dark arts and dubious Wiccan practices. But the grey clad man looked too grizzled and frail to be so celebrated now.
The witnesses included the senior town alderman, Benedict Chapman, a tall skinny man with sharp features, and his wife, Maud, a much younger woman of noble birth and a spiral of neat blonde braids piled on her head like a cone. She was rather pretty, but the hair fashion didn’t suit her and she looked a fright.
Katrin didn’t care one jot. She was exploding with joy and could not stop grinning even as her father and Fear were determined to look so sombre. She knew that beyond sight within the trees Ellen and Trudy stood with many people from the estate and surrounding villages, all of whom would attend the feast at the house that night. But for now this day was for the family and the priest’s entourage.
Katrin’s simple white dress glowed translucent white in the sun and the lightest of breezes made the fabric cling fetchingly to her barely concealed form naked beneath the cloth. In Pandoria it was the colour of Air Magic, neither her gift nor right to wear and before donning it that morning she had wondered what brides wore there. But now such thoughts were gone from her and she was lost in the moment, a moment that hung in time and seemed last forever.
No one had spoken for an age and the only sound was the light breeze in the trees and the occasional lowing of a cow. To Katrin it felt magical, but she forswore the patterns to test the feeling for fear that the spell would be broken. Her faith in such things as gods was weak, but if they held truth then even her magic could not have defined them.
Another light gust rippled the treetops and somewhere an insect buzzed as if oblivious to the change of season. Then finally the priest stepped forwards and began to speak.
“We call upon Mabon ap Modron, the Child of Light, god of this season, and upon Cernunnos and the Green One. We call upon Dagda, the All-father as your humble children. Please oh great ones hear our prayers and bless these children and give them virtue.”
The wind seemed to die away at his words and even the cattle fell silent. Katrin felt her heart stop and she cast a glance at Fear. But his eyes were closed perhaps in prayer and she wondered at that even as it added to the true magic.
But seizing the moment Katrin knelt between Fear and her father and clasped her hands in supplication.
“Who offers this woman?” Hadron asked.
“I do,” Mark said boldly. “I name myself Mark Euan De Lacy, Count of Downley.”
“Who claims this woman?” came the old man’s ritual reply.
“I,” Fear said, his voice seemed to catch a little as grooms often do. “I name myself… Arlon Sebastian Fear, formerly Black Mage of Pandoria whom some call Arch Magus.”
Katrin stole a sideways at the revelation of Fear’s middle name. She had never heard it until now and almost giggled childishly.
“Who gives herself freely into this bond?” Hadron inclined his head and asked the now still wind.
Katrin gulped and for a moment could not find voice. Then she said, “I do. I name myself Lady Katrin Matilda De Lacy of Downley, Journeyman of Pandoria.
Hadron bowed to the assembled company and then turned to bow to the shrine beyond the pillars of the temple. At this point Mark handed Katrin a small bundle of twigs formed into a punitive rod of various trees and shrubs and decorated with coloured ribbons.
She blushed as she accepted and prayed that the full traditional ritual would not be observed. After all it was common enough in the region. It was also customary that such matters not be discussed with the bride beforehand.
If the wedding had not been in haste, her friends would have gathered and stripped her bare at an all-female feast and she should have been whipped and spanked in merriment to embarrass her. At least she had been spared that.
Pausing for a moment, and still on her knees, she blushingly kissed the rod and handed it back to her father.
He might now demand that she pull up her gown and offer her behind for a lick of the ‘whip,’ but more likely he would deliver the blow over her gown.
But after hefting it for a moment and smirking at her, Mark handed the rod to Fear who took it with a bow. At this point Hadron stepped forward and raised his arms to the sky.
Fear extended an arm and Katrin stooped lower to kiss the rod again. The hush fell while Hadran remained motionless and blank-faced.
The Arch Mage would either swat her rear with the rod or put it in his belt, either action would conclude the wedding ceremony and they would be married. Fear grinned and choosing the latter he swept his wife into his arms and kissed her.
From the woods a hundred villagers and townspeople emerged all applauding and in short order they hefted the couple onto willing shoulders and broke into song.
To be concluded in the final chapter Reformation.