Hope of Earth (64 page)

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Authors: Piers Anthony

BOOK: Hope of Earth
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“I’ll not meet you anywhere! I don’t want to be near you.” But that was true on only one level. The very sound of her voice had given him a guilty erection.

“Ned, be sensible! There is a massive, terrible treachery in the making. You must tell the khan, for I cannot. My husband would—Ned, you must hear me out!”

“Treachery?” It was not difficult to believe that Ormond would be involved in something dirty. For whom was the man’s real loyalty?

“The red farmstead, tomorrow morning,” she repeated. “Don’t let anyone see you go there.”

“I’ll not go—” he started. But now another man was coming to the trench, and he couldn’t continue talking. So he walked away, not looking at the tree.

He found Jes and told her. “And she wants me to meet her tomorrow at a private place.”

“I think she just wants to seduce you again.”

“Yes. She probably has no information.”

Jes cocked her head thoughtfully. “Yet suppose she does? If there really should be something, and you passed it by, and then Ormond leads the khan into an ambush—”

“You think I should see her?”

“She’d have you back in thrall in a moment.”

“No she wouldn’t.” But his doubt showed.

“Ned, I know you love Wildflower. But you are a mouse before that snake. Wona will consume you.”

“So I can’t see her,” he said, half-relieved.

“You will have to see her, to be sure there is no betrayal she knows of—and I will have to go with you. I’ll kill her if I have to.”

“I don’t think I could do that.”

“I know you couldn’t. But I can. Probably it won’t have to come to that, because she knows me, and will back off. I will protect you.”

And she would, in two senses: physically and emotionally. “Thank you, Jes.”

“I’ll get horses. You go to the trench—and on beyond it, when no one is looking. I’ll be there at dawn.”

Ned nodded. He profoundly appreciated his sister’s support. She understood him perfectly, weaknesses and all, and would see that he handled this matter properly.

In the morning he met Jes beyond the trench, and they rode out to the east. In three hours they spied the red farmstead, nestled at the edge of the forest. It looked deserted, but there was a horse grazing beside it.

“Just in case it’s a trap,” Jes said, drawing her knife and holding it against the side of the horse away from the house. She could hurl that blade swiftly and accurately.

He dismounted and walked to the door. It opened as he approached. Wona was there, wearing a tight woolen dress that concealed nothing of her proportions. “Come in quickly, Ned; don’t let anyone see you.”

“My sister brought me.”

Wona glanced beyond him, frowning. “Then she must hide too. It is death for all of us, if my husband learns.”

“Tell me, and we’ll be away from here,” Ned suggested.

“No; it is too long in the telling. Let the horses graze; maybe it will be all right.”

Jes dismounted and led the horses to the pasture beside the house. She tied their reins up on the saddles. They were well trained; they would not stray, and would come when called. Ned waited until she joined him, before stepping into the cabin.

It was empty, except for Wona. Jes had known that, or she would not have entered. She had a warrior’s senses about such things.

“You thought I would ambush you?” Wona inquired disdainfully. “I would never hurt you, Ned.”

Jes snorted.

“Or you, Jes,” Wona continued. “We have meant too much to each other. I’m glad you took Ittai; he’s a good man.”

“What’s this?” Ned asked.

Wona smiled. “You didn’t know? Captain Ittai left me for her. But I think he would not have, had I not shown Jes how to use her body. Had I not been willing to go.”

Ned looked at his sister. “What did she show you?”

“We exchanged information,” Jes said tightly. “I showed her how to kill, and she showed me how to appeal to a man.” But she turned a hard glance to Wona. “Just tell my brother what you have to tell him, and we’ll go. We don’t want to see you again.”

“Then we had better settle into some comfort,” Wona said. “It will take some time in the telling. I have some food. Take a stool.”

“We didn’t come here to eat,” Ned said.

Wona shrugged. “Please yourself.” She fetched bread and a jug of wine from a bag in the corner, and set them on the wooden table. “I have something special: caviar. It greatly improves the flavor of the bread.” She lifted her right leg so that her comely thigh showed, and revealed a sheath strapped there. She drew a knife and cut off some bread.

Ned pretended not to have noticed that deep flash of thigh. But he was sure Wona had angled her leg deliberately to give him the most compelling view. Knowing her ways did not prevent him from reacting to them. Emotionally he despised her, but physically he desired her.

“I don’t eat on a mission,” Jes said.

“But surely you will want to sample this.” Wona proffered the bread.

Jes paused, then accepted it. She dug out some of the caviar and put it on the bread. She took a bite.

“You see, it is good food,” Wona said. “I am eating it too.” She cut off another slice of bread.

Jes nodded. “It is good food.”

“You and I do not want to interfere with each other,” Wona said to Jes. “We have tended each other in illness. Give me one hour.”

“What are you talking about?” Ned asked.

Jes paused, then answered. “Wona and I came to know each other, when we traveled together. We are different creatures, but we do not see each other as evil. If she led you into an ambush, I would kill her. But she means you no harm, by her definition. She has asked me to allow her to deal with you without interference.”

“All I want is the news of that treachery.”

“But there is a price to that news,” Wona said.

“Why should he pay it?” Jes asked, as if negotiating.

“Do you think I could not have held Ittai, had I chosen to? When I learned that you were the other woman, I let him go because I would not hurt you.”

“You let him go!” Jes repeated, astonished. “No—he left you!”

“There were sides of me I did not need to show him or his housemaid. I could have fascinated him, blinding him to all else. You know that. I know my business, as you know yours.” Wona paused, letting that statement sink in. “He was worth more to you than to me. Because of what we meant to each other, I gave him to you.”

Jes’s surprise slowly turned to acceptance. “You could have held him,” she agreed at last.

“What would be the price of him?”

Jes nodded reluctantly. “One hour.”

“This is not making any sense at all!” Ned protested.

Jes angled her head. “Is someone coming?”

“No one followed me,” Wona said. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t let anyone follow you. So anyone who passes here must be coincidental.”

“All the same, I’ll check.” Jes started for the door, carrying her bread.

“Don’t leave me!” Ned cried.

Jes sighed. “Ned, I think this is one battle you must after all fight yourself. She’s not going to say anything until she has settled with you, one way or the other. My time is better spent making sure there is no mischief abroad.” She went on outside.

“See—she trusts me alone with you”. Wona said as she used the knife to spread caviar on the slice of bread.

“She knows I’ll call her if there is trouble.” Ned, feeling awkward, sat on a stool.

“What have you to fear from me? She knows that you are the very last person I would hurt. I would much rather make love to you.” She handed him the slice of bread.

Bemused, Ned accepted it. “What is this treachery?”

She cut off another slice and smeared caviar over it. “Have you lost your feeling for me? I have not lost mine for you. You’re such a brilliant man.”

And such a fool about women, particularly this one. “You held me like a captive bird. What is this treachery?”

Wona took the stool opposite him, drawing the skirt of her dress up above her knees so that it would not stretch out of shape. The knife-sheath got in her way, so she slid the skirt up farther and removed it. She seemed to be wearing nothing underneath.

She picked up her bread and bit delicately. “Do try this, Ned. Caviar is a rare Russian delicacy, said to enhance potency.” She let her legs spread.

Ned looked away from her clearly revealed thighs, ashamed of the sexual urgency they generated in him. He chomped his bread almost savagely. The taste of it was surprisingly good. “What is this treachery?”

“Do you know what I want of you, Ned?”

“If you are loyal to the khan, you will give me the information.”

“The khan is a Mongol. I am a Turk, as are you. My loyalty is to myself and my friends. I do not simply give away my wares; I make the best deal I can.”

“I don’t care for your deal.” But his sincerity was being undercut by the sight of her body. He didn’t want to desire her, but his body took no more note of his mind than it had when he had been impotent with Wildflower.

Wona stood, found cups, and poured some wine. She offered it to him. “Would you like me to sip from it first?”

She was teasing him with the notion that he might suspect her of poisoning him. He grasped it almost roughly and drank. It was fine and strong; he would have to be careful lest it cloud his judgment. Wona was doing everything to distract him, and succeeding admirably. So was that her only purpose? To try to seduce him again?

“Oh, there really is a conspiracy,” she said, as if fathoming his thoughts. “You will need to tell the khan. Would you like more bread?”

“No.” It seemed that she was determined to make him wait for her information.

“More wine, then?”

“No.”

“You are a hard man to please.” She took his empty cup and set it on the table. But instead of returning to her stool, she began to dance. Her motions were languorously slow, and her body became like liquid. Her breasts quivered under the knit dress, and her hips flowed out and in as if possessed of their own agendas. He had not seen a dance like that since Sahara performed at his wedding. She let down her hair so that it joined the sway, and smiled at him.

Ned swallowed. He was married, and he loved his wife, but he desired Wona with an intensity he would not have believed. He wanted to protest, or at least look away, but did neither.

She circled close to him, and he smelled the appealing musk of her body. She turned and danced with her back to him, so that he could see the flexing of her buttocks under the tight knit. She bent forward, projecting her bottom, and he remembered how she had received his explosive entry, so long ago. He wanted to leap up and take hold and plunge in, and knew she would not only let him, but make it as good for him as was humanly possible. Wona had faults, but was matchless at that particular type of performance.

One hour: that was how long Jes was giving them. If he could hold out for that time, the sexual siege would be over. He tried to close his eyes, and could not; he tried to focus his mind on Wildflower, and could not. He had carelessly walked into a battle of her choosing, and was at a severe disadvantage. He was caught in the storm of Wona’s desire, and could only try to ride it out.

Wona turned again, and now her living breasts almost brushed his face. Then she abruptly sat on his lap, flinging her arms around him and pulling his face into her bosom. His arms involuntarily went around her midriff. “I still want your child, Ned,” she said.

“I don’t want to give it to you,” he said into her warm woolen left breast. Her body was so soft and light!

“No one need know. Just give it to me, and go your way, and I will go mine.” She tensed her buttocks rhythmically, sending a hidden message to the most interested part of him.

“No.” But he heard the weakness in it. He knew he should throw her off and depart, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even let go of her. Her body was so exquisitely formed, and so close and pliable!

“We can do it right here, right now,” she said. “Open your trousers, and I will hitch up my dress.”

“No.” Yet he knew he was on the verge of doing it.

“Here, this is better.” She got up, hoisted up her skirt, spread her legs, and sat on him again, her thighs clasping his waist. Even through the clothing, he felt the compelling magic of their touch. “I can bring you such joy, Ned! You know I can. Just let me do it.”

And he knew she
would
do it, if he let her, as she had before. She had already excited him almost beyond endurance, and she would set him inside her, and he would give her all that was in him. Still he did not move.

“Or I can give you something to kiss, first.” Wona reached around herself and pulled further on her dress. It slid upward around the curves of her body, shaping itself to them as it moved, until her fine breasts popped out beneath it. She wore nothing underneath, as he had known would be the case. “I want you to be satisfied, Ned.” She leaned into his face.

He turned his face aside, but it still rested between her breasts. She used her hands to lift them up for his closer appreciation. “I know you want me, Ned, as I want you.”

He could not deny it. He was ready to give himself up for lost. He fought to summon an image of Wildflower’s face, ashamed of the betrayal in which he was indulging. But his wife was far away.

“And I will give you my information, after,” Wona said, bending her head to kiss his ear.

Why was she still bargaining, when she had already won? Apparently she didn’t know of her victory. Then he realized that there were limits to what Wona could do. He could not fight her, or throw her off, or even speak out against what she was doing, but he could resist her. So he remained un-moving.

She took his silence for assent. “Now let me make the connection,” she murmured, reaching down to open his trousers.

He moved his arms. He caught her wrists and held them.

“Why, how nice, Ned; you are responding at last!” She moved her breasts against his face. They were twin mounds of desire, perfectly formed.

Ned simply sat there, with the naked woman on his lap, and held her wrists. He had found his only weapon of defense. Could it possibly be enough? How much of the hour remained? How much of it did he
want
to remain?

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