Copyright me 2009.

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Erlina wept but could not dry her tears. She was tied, naked, to her marital bed with strong rope, which bound her hands, feet and back.

She could barely see out the balcony, but she searched the horizon for any sign of her husband. She was locked inside now but as soon as he returned she would be thrashed.

Her marriage to Eadric had been a mistake. An attempt to secure an alliance during a time of peace, things had not gone according to plan. War had returned, leaving Erlina as a combination of wife and prisoner to Eadric. Only five years her senior, he was proving his worth to the thane, his father, both as a politician and as a soldier. Not only had she not provided him with any heirs, but she was no help to him in a political environment given her allegiances and temperament. Often during banquets Eadric would keep his hand flat against her thigh under the table as a reminder to be silent.

In private his chastisements were worse. Many times now, when she had grieved him, he would tie her, naked, to their bed, and whip her. This fate awaited her now. Horrible, drawn out, and excruciatingly painful, she hated these moments, as she hated him. He would beat her with his belt, a thick strap of leather that would make her ache from buttocks to mid thighs. Then he would birch her, and she would scream. Afterwards, he would fuck her roughly.

She could see the birch now, propped up against a wall, to torment her. Each branch long, thin and whippy, from the tree in the courtyard, it was a nasty tool.

She had tried to escape his clutches. She had almost gotten a message across to the diplomatic party, but Eadric had discovered it. He had prepared her for punishment, but then received word that Celtic warriors led an attack against him. Rallying his men and grabbing his sword, he had rode off to meet them. Perhaps this time he would not return. He had slain many of her countrymen, but surely any who gambled their life too often were doomed to lose it.

Her confinement, though not part of his original plan, was greatly trying. She ached after her long confinement. It must have been three hours now, maybe more. She thirsted and needed sustenance. She itched, fidgeted. Fought against her bindings, to no avail. Never before had a punishment seemed so terrible. She was exhausted before he had even struck her. And when he got home he would certainly beat her, all the harder in his excitement from battle. The anticipation was intolerable.

Finally, she heard his horn, blaring so as to alert the guards to allow him entry. So he had survived. He would punish her, undeservedly, once more. Unbidden, fresh tears flowed down Erlina's cheeks, and she sobbed uncontrollably. She was afraid of what was to come. But a traitor emotion remained in her heart. Relief.