"You said you wished to talk, sir?" Goldwyn turned to face the slaver. "My sons and I have already expressed our gratitude to you for your hospitality." She knew she was speaking too fast, too loud, her words rushing together.

"There are many matters which we must discuss," Esarhaddon told her. "Come, Madame, and have a seat." He gestured towards the cushions where they had been sitting. 

As Goldwyn sat down across from the slaver, she felt a growing sense of dread. What purpose did this man have in detaining her and keeping her from her sons? Did he intend to try to have his way with her, as he had with Waerburh? Would he relent if she protested, or would he use force to carry through with his vile designs?

"I enjoyed our little stroll yestereve. Prior to the spring, I was only acquainted with the history of Gondor from books, but to see the great works and ancient ruins with one's own eyes is quite a different experience from reading about them on the page or viewing them through the imaginations of illustrators." His voice lowered, taking on a husky tone that was heavy with intent. "Being in the presence of such beautiful company made the experience even more pleasant." 

An uneasy sensation curled around Goldwyn's stomach. So this Southron was attempting to woo her. The prospect made her skin crawl, but she hid her revulsion behind a neutral expression. "The ruins of Osgiliath are certainly steeped in many centuries of history," she replied, attempting to show as little interest as possible in the conversation. She did not want to say anything which might encourage the man. 

"Do you have an interest in the great deeds and works of the past?" His dark, sensual eyes studied her as though she were a book in a scholar's library.

"I suppose so," she replied, uncertain how to answer. "I always enjoyed hearing the tales of my people, as well as stories from Gondor."

"While I am no scholar, I do have a fascination with history, and try to learn as much as I can about the regions through which I pass whilst on my travels. This is the furthest I have ever been north and west, so the territory is quite unfamiliar to me." Esarhaddon leaned back against a large bolster, making himself comfortable for a lengthy conversation. "Have you traveled much outside the borders of your land?"

"My village was located in the Eastfold, close to the border of Anórien, so it was a short ride into Gondor. My husband, who was a woodworker, was occasionally contracted by a Gondorian customer, and I would accompany him on ventures to the east. But before I was captured and brought here against my will, I had never traveled that far into Gondor." She hoped that the slaver would hear the bitterness in her voice when she mentioned the circumstances of her presence in the South. 

"So we are both strangers in this land," Esarhaddon chuckled, giving no indication that he sensed her displeasure. "If it were not for the war, our paths never would have crossed, for you would have remained in Rohan and I in Nurn. It would seem that we were brought together by Fate."

"I wish that my fate had been different," Goldwyn lamented. "I would much rather be in the Mark with my family."

Once again, he refused to acknowledge her resentment, or perhaps he was willfully oblivious to it, for he continued his attempts to engage her in idle chatter. "Earlier, I told you some of my life. Now I would like to know more about you. What sort of life did you lead in Rohan?"

Taken aback by his interest in her past, Goldwyn was uncertain how to reply. "Well, I suppose it was rather ordinary. My husband came from an affluent family, and so we could afford to hire servants to help out around the farm. My days were spent tending to the education of the children and overseeing the affairs of the household. I also helped manage my husband's ledgers, ensuring that all transactions were recorded and all debts were paid." Oh, how she wished that the slaver would release her to join the other captives! She had an escape attempt to organize!

"You have a head for business, I see," Esarhaddon remarked, stroking his beard thoughtfully. "When I saw how you commanded your children with authority and grace, I sensed that you were a natural leader. I must say that I was impressed with the way that your three sons defended you, and how you brought them back into order, reining them in when they became unruly."

Though she loathed to admit it to herself, Goldwyn was flattered by these words. "I have always tried to be a good mother to my children. It has not been easy these past few months, however. During the days of darkness, we all lived in terror of the future; when uruk raiders overran the border, that terrible future came to pass. After that, it was endless marching, mile after mile. Because of their youth, the boys were allowed to walk freely by my side. While it was a relief that they were not bound in ropes, it was difficult for me to keep them all together at times."

"It is a shame that you and your children have suffered so." Esarhaddon's features were suffused with sympathy, but his heavy-lidded eyes held a calculating glint. "However, your fortunes are about to change, as well as those of your sons."

Goldwyn raised a wary eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Esarhaddon moved closer to her, his hands reaching for hers. "From the first moment that you caught my attention, I knew that I must have you. It was your beauty which first captivated me, but from speaking with you, I can tell that you are more than just a pretty trinket to play with in times of leisure. I shall take you back to Nurn as my concubine, and your sons will be the companions of my sons."
 
Horror struck Goldwyn like a bolt from the heavens. "I do not wish to be your concubine or anything else!" Her eyes wide with horror, she gaped at the slaver with newfound understanding. So, at last, came the purpose of this meeting – a most loathsome proposal for a union with an abhorrent man who made his coin off the degradation and suffering of the unfortunate. 

"While I understand your initial hesitation, I assure you that this would be a most favorable agreement for you and your sons." He looked deeply into her eyes, willing her to understand the importance of the gift which he was bestowing upon her. "You, a lowly woman of a conquered enemy, have gained favor with me in a short period of time. Because of this growing regard, I have decided to claim you as part of my reward from Mordor. I shall take you to my villa, where you will enjoy a life of luxury as my concubine. You will dwell in richly appointed chambers, surrounded by gardens of great loveliness, with servants at your beck and call. As the lesser wife of one of Western Nurn's most prominent merchants, you will be elevated in society, and command great respect from all who meet you. Most women would be thrilled to have such an opportunity!"

"Unlike the women of the Dark Land and its allies, I am not some simpering thrall who is easily bought," Goldwyn sputtered, still reeling with shock. "I want no part of the evils that fester in that dread realm! No amount of wealth or prestige you could offer me would make me change my mind!"

"One who does not desire power or riches possesses a rare humility," Esarhaddon remarked, scrutinizing her from half-closed eyes. "The fact that you are not interested in me merely because of the great wealth that I possess makes you all the more desirable."

"I do not desire you at all!" Goldwyn almost screamed. 

"Even if wealth and privilege mean little to you, consider the other benefits of being my concubine!" Esarhaddon's voice grew impassioned as he continued his efforts at persuading the reluctant object of his affections. "I will allow you to receive a private, specialized education from the tutors employed at my school. In addition to receiving a basic education in reading, writing, mathematics, and history, you may receive instruction in any subject that interests you. The School of Industry teaches music, dance, theatre, needlework, cooking, and herbalism, but if your interests are more specific, I will seek out tutors who can instruct you. Your sons will also enjoy the benefits of this splendid education. They will not grow up in ignorance; you may be assured of that! Consider how Fate has blessed you by bringing you to me!"

Goldwyn felt like tearing her hair out in frustration. Was this accursed man incapable of understanding her disdain for him? Trying to steady her breathing, she took a moment to compose herself. Perhaps if she tried reasoning with him, she could dissuade him from this absurd notion that she was somehow destined to be his concubine because the war had brought them together.

"While I appreciate your offer, I really do not want to be your concubine, or the concubine of anyone else for that matter." Goldwyn tried to keep her voice calm and level. "Perhaps you could find some other woman amongst the captives who would be willing to accept your proposal."

"It was not an offer, but a demand, and I will not be refused," he told her emphatically. "Now I want you to remain very still."

"Why?"

"For this." Placing his hands upon her shoulders, he pulled her close, embracing her unwilling mouth with his full, sensual lips.

"You cannot! I will not allow this!" Goldwyn opened her mouth in protest, and boldly he took the opportunity to drive his tongue through the breach. 

"My frigid Northern beauty," he murmured against her lips as he broke the kiss, "while you might protest now, soon you will yearn for my company and cry out for my touch." 

"Never!" She attempted to push him away, but she might as well have tried to slide a block of solid iron up the steep face of a tall mountain. "Damn you! You are every bit the barbarous lecher I knew you to be!"

"And you find this quality very appealing, do you not?" Winking rakishly, he grinned that roguish smirk which he must have spent long hours practicing before achieving such matchless perfection.

Goldwyn's hand flew back and slapped him fiercely across the mouth.

Esarhaddon's head jerked back, but he only laughed mockingly at her as he rubbed his hand across his mouth. "There is no refusing me, for you are my concubine."

"I am no man's whore!"

"Not a whore, Goldwyn; but a pampered concubine," he explained, his voice a little less threatening. "Regardless of what falsehoods others have told you, concubinage is an honorable estate, for a concubine is a lesser wife, not a mistress! You would want for nothing, and your sons would have all the advantages of being educated in my household. But why do we waste words!" His voice was a hoarse moan as he pulled her hands up to his lips and kissed them. "Can you not see how I desire you!"

"A lecher like you pants for every woman whom he sees!" Goldwyn yanked her hands away as though they had been thrust into a fire. 

"Stop these ridiculous protests and lie with me this night!" he rasped angrily. "Yield yourself up to my caresses as we celebrate our union! I can promise you that you will know such rapturous bliss that you will faint away in my arms!"

Goldwyn knew that it was hopeless to try to resist the advances of this powerful man. He would ravish her, no matter how much she protested. But perhaps she could forestall this disgrace. She had to escape somehow! There was no father, brother or husband to save her, no one to rescue her from the heated embrace of her enemy! She must use her wits and rely upon her own resources. If the night's planned escape proved successful, she would never have to see this Haradric scoundrel again. In the meantime, she must find some way to evade his advances! Though the thought of playing the coquette sickened her, perhaps she could make this lust-besotted fool believe that he had been successful in seducing her. Hopefully, he would be so flattered that he would be willing to grant her any favor.

"You are a very handsome man, sir, and perhaps you could beguile me." Choking back her disgust, she lowered her voice into what she hoped sounded like an appropriately alluring murmur. "But you have given me no time to think and to plan." Bringing her fingers up, she shyly touched his bearded cheek.

"Think and plan?" Esarhaddon's dark eyebrows drew upward in a questioning scowl. "You attempt to stall what is inevitable, Madame, but I will not be denied!"

"No, no, that is not it at all," she insisted, trying to keep as calm as possible. "You must understand, sir, that it will be difficult to explain this to my sons. I promised them that I would return to them tonight. When I do not go back to them immediately, they will be terrified. I know my sons, and they will hate you even more than they do now! Time is needed to explain that you have offered to... to wed me and give us a home." That sounded all wrong, she knew. "He is not marrying me; he is forcing me to be his whore!" she fumed to herself. "Just so he does not detain me any longer tonight and lets me go. If we can only get away, there will not be another opportunity for him to achieve his wicked designs!"

Her eyes lifted to his, and she discovered that his dark orbs had lost their anger. His look was pensive; no doubt he was weighing her words as he stroked over her hand. "Fritha is too young to understand, but he is not too young to sense when something is amiss. My middle son is a kind and compassionate boy; his heart will be broken to think his mother has been used despicably. The elder will be enraged, and perhaps will try to kill you someday. You have said that you want my sons to be companions to yours, but you are building on unsteady ground if I do not reconcile them to the idea that I welcome this... this... arrangement." Her voice was pleading.

Esarhaddon's eyes narrowed. "Your sons will become accustomed to this. You treat them as though they are weaklings! Forget them for now! I will not have this delay, for my loins burn hot for you!" he growled angrily, clenching her hand in a tight grip. "When I want a woman, I want her now!"

"I ask only for this simple boon... then when I am content in my heart that my sons understand that I agree to this arrangement, I will have a better disposition and hold pleasant thoughts for you." She hoped she sounded convincing.

"I am not seeking a better disposition and pleasant thoughts, woman! I am seeking passion and reciprocation of my ardor! I want you to burn with desire for me as I burn for you!" His breath came hard and heavy, and his face reddened under his tawny skin.

"Then, perhaps, sir, you can melt my icy heart with your amorous heat and fuel my fires so that they match your own." Goldwyn smiled, hoping that her blue eyes held the fire of sensuality. Her lips parted, she kissed him lightly, brushing the back of her hand gently across his cheek. "I have needed a lover who could reawaken me, for my passions have been stricken by a long drought. But please, sir, not until I have made my sons understand."

"Your dearth will soon be filled, I can promise you that!" Esarhaddon assured her, the gleam of lust in his eyes. "But I will grant that there is a certain wisdom in your words." He savored the cool touch of her hand. Perhaps he should wait. What would one more night matter? "If I agree to this delay, you must explain to your sons that, of your own accord and free will, you have accepted my offer and that I did not force you. Give me this promise, and I will grant you a reprieve until tomorrow night. Then I expect to collect." He chuckled, his dark pupils swirling deep pools that bade her to plunge into their depths and drown there with him.

"Thank you, my handsome Southron," Goldwyn whispered against his lips. She swept her long eyelashes down over her eyes, hoping that she looked at least somewhat seductive. Blushing, she drew aside the cloth covering her bosom and placed his right hand upon her breast. "That is all that I ask, and then I will go to your bed more willing. But tonight I must explain this all to my sons. Please give me time!"

His eyes gleaming, Esarhaddon kneaded the soft flesh of her ivory breast. "Only a delay, Madame, but I will have you in my bed tomorrow night, and you will enjoy it! Make no mistake about that!"

"Surely," she murmured as she touched the tip of her tongue to his lips and then sucked his lower lip into her mouth.

***

After Goldwyn had been escorted out of his tent by the guards, Esarhaddon stroked his beard thoughtfully, his other hand resting on his throbbing groin. The Northern woman was unbearably obstinate, but he found that quality stimulating. It would be a challenge to tame her, but soon he would have her begging to be summoned to his chambers.

He never should have allowed her to leave his tent, but, still, he reflected, perhaps the woman had been correct in one respect. If her sons never accepted him, there would always be trouble for him in the future, and, if possible, he preferred that his household be one of peace, where he could enjoy life and all that he had gained from his labors.

Though Esarhaddon had found that Goldwyn oft spoke foolishly and impetuously, she had a native intelligence about her that he found appealing. In addition to this attribute, he had observed that she was a good mother to her three sons, controlling them with a strong though loving hand. A comely slave girl could appease his amorous needs, but the women who were chosen to bear his children must be of higher quality, and he would have a child from Goldwyn! 

Long ago, the wise elders of Esarhaddon's tribe had said – and said truly – that the wife was the tent pole upon which the whole structure of society rested. The woman was the one person who provided stability through famines, pestilences and wars; the one who kept the braziers glowing while the men were away on raids or at war; and the pillar and bedrock of the family. Without her, there was only the wasteland and the sorrowing plain, the hot, blowing winds of the desert, infertility and want. While in her tent or house, she was the guide and guardian of anyone and everything that fell under her influence. This had been true in regard to Esarhaddon's own mother, and it would hold true until the last day.

Esarhaddon's youngest son had been motherless since his mother had perished from childbirth the year before. His eldest son had lost his own mother years before to an illness of the breast. While the elder, at sixteen years of age, was approaching his entry into the world of men, the younger boy was still very much a child. Being around this Northern woman might be beneficial to the boy.

While Esarhaddon had two other wives, neither one was a suitable substitute. His first wife was a selfish woman who he suspected cared more for his riches than she did for him. While she did not openly shun his sons, he had always sensed that she was far more comfortable when they were absent from her presence. Perhaps she resented the boys because she could not bear children of her own. His second wife was a sweet, gentle lady from Far Harad. While she was kind to the boys, Esarhaddon feared that the burden of being their mother would be too much for her, as she would soon be occupied with caring for her first child. 

This golden-haired beauty from Rohan, on the other hand, was experienced at being a mother. Certainly such a motherly woman could open her heart to embrace two motherless sons. Yes, his sons needed a mother, and he had already chosen her. Though she rejected the idea, Esarhaddon was a persuasive man, and Goldwyn would soon come to accept him and his sons.

In the interim, there was the matter of the raging need between his legs, and he hungered to have that ache attended to as soon as possible. He looked to the eunuch who hovered nearby.

"Summon Kishi to my tent!"