House of Lust (54 page)

“Any news on Venn movements, sire?” Elas asked.  “We have heard nothing here but we’re not on the frontier.”

“Nothing from them, nor from the Tybar.  In any event the commander here and myself have agreed on a policy of co-ordination from now on, so that we have a single unified structure.  I would like to include you, Elas, in this.  Your reserve force here would be a vital component in any reaction to a threat – should either my Army of the West or the Commander’s Army of Bathenia – let’s call it that from now on, shall we? – be called into action, the KIMM would be needed to fill the gap left behind.”

“Certainly, sire, provided they are not needed elsewhere.”

“Army of Bathenia,” Amne said slowly, and she looked up at Vosgaris.  “Sounds good, doesn’t it, Vosgaris?”

“Ma’am,” Vosgaris agreed, his hands behind his back.

“Darling, best to address him by his rank,” Elas corrected her gently. 

Vosgaris looked surprised at the familiar term Elas spoke to Amne with.  That was different!

Amne bowed.  “I’m sorry,” she said in a voice that had Vosgaris’ toes curling.  “Commander,” she smiled up at him.  Vosgaris almost forgot Isbel.

Lalaas eyed Vosgaris and he caught his friend’s look.  Vosgaris took a deep breath and controlled himself.  At least Amne had a conservative top on that didn’t reveal a sword’s length of cleavage.  If it had he guessed he wouldn’t know where to look. 
Or rather
, he thought to himself
, I damned well would!

Jorqel looked surprised at Amne’s meek acceptance of the gentle admonishment.  Was she really mellowing now she was beyond thirty?  In times gone by she would have exploded and caused an argument.  “Well, sis, I’m happy for you,” he said, catching her amused look at the deliberate non correct mode of addressing her.  Elas could hardly take him to task.  “You and the good Prince here seem very settled at last.  I for one am relieved.”

Elas nodded in agreement.  “My wife and I have sorted out some differences and we are much happier now, thank you, sire.”

Amne smiled widely, but Jorqel wasn’t entirely convinced.  He knew Amne too well and the broad smile often told him she was hiding something. He decided to change the subject.  “We must have dinner together tonight before my party and I set off for Slenna in the morning.  The Commander here will be going onwards to Niake so I think before we depart, a welcome meal.”

“Already under way, Jorqel,” Amne said.  “I’ve sent word to the kitchens and …. Ohh!”

Elas leaned forward, concerned.  “Is everything alright, Amne?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes wide.  “Just kicked me.  Big one!” she breathed out.  “Oh!” she looked down and her hand rose from her stomach.  An area the size of her palm suddenly twitched and the middle rose and fell in the blink of an eye.

“You must have an equine in there, sis,” Jorqel grinned.

“Feels like it at times!  This is so different to the two girls.  Oh, it must be a boy!  Was Sannia the same with Amsel?”

“Oh, I – ah – didn’t notice.”

“Men,” Amne said acidly.  “This one certainly lets me know it’s in there!  As I was saying, dinner will be served tonight at the start of the first watch after dark.  Best dress,” she smirked to the men.

“That includes you, Gavan,” Jorqel said without looking round at his bodyguard.

“Sire,” Gavan said heavily.  The whole prospect of sitting at dinner with two princes, a pregnant princess, two small girls and two minor nobles appealed to him not at all.  Especially when he had to dress up.  Could he muck out the equines?

Dinner had come and gone, and despite Gavan’s worst fears it had gone reasonably smoothly, if one took into account one of the girls dropping a particularly messy spoonful of vegetable soup over what had been a pristine white dress.  That had caused an initial amount of distress but it had been sorted out soon enough by Amne.

Elas had been formal and correct, living up to his reputation.  Lalaas and Vosgaris had sat together, deep in conversation, and Gavan had found he had been out on a limb, having to listen in on the two princes and the princess.  The two girls had ignored the adults, spending time on eating, and when they had finished, had been sent to bed.  Amne had waddled off to tuck them in, then had returned and spoken to Captain Lalaas.  Lalaas had excused himself and left, his duty period having begun that evening and he was late.

Gavan had excused himself shortly afterwards, saying he had to check on the men and make sure all were ready for the morning’s departure.  Vosgaris had decided his turn to go had come.  He was tired and needed his bed.  Elas and Jorqel were deep in conversation so Amne excused herself and escorted Vosgaris out into the corridor.

Outside, she slid her arm into his and pressed close to the commander. “You’ve been very naughty, Vos.  I’m in admiration, you know.”

“What do you mean, ma’am?”

Amne smiled wickedly, her tongue playing on her lips.  “Allow me to show you your quarters.”

“But – I know where…..oh.”

They remained silent until they got to his rooms and she waved the two guards to relax.  She followed him in and closed the door.

“Won’t someone think this is inappropriate, Amne?” Vosgaris asked softly, moving away from the door.

“What, me in this condition?” Amne rubbed her belly.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  Yes, fancy you and mother doing it.  Well, Vos, that’s a turn up isn’t it?”

“H-How do you know
that?
” Vosgaris turned white.

Amne giggled and hugged his arm.  “Oh, relax, silly.  I’m telling nobody.  Want my favourite Commander to be put under the executioner?  Especially one who’s had me too?  Mmmm… mother has some taste I must say.”

“Amne…oh by the gods, I’m in the shit.”  He sat down, shaking his head.  “Does she know you know?”

“Yes.  We talked about it when I was in Zofela.  She was so torn about things.  Father’s temporary madness really messed things up, didn’t it?”

“You and Isbel talked about it?”

“Yes.  We’ve – sort of grown close of late.  Things have all changed, haven’t they?  You have too.  You’re far more serious of late.  Still gorgeous but just a little more serious.  I suppose you had a bad time with Alenna’s death and what have you.  I so wanted to be there for you.  Hope my letters helped.”

“Yes, they did, thanks.  Yes I did do through a bad time, and it was Isbel who helped me through it all – and I suppose it was that more than anything else which brought us together.  When your father went mad it pushed her into my arms and – well – you know what happened next.”

Amne nodded.  “Don’t worry about it!  She made me swear to utter secrecy and I was more than happy to do so.  She’s in a cleft stick, the poor woman, but I helped her when she needed a shoulder.  She loves you but knows she’s got to stick with her husband.  I did try to tempt her to come here for a little while when I give birth and maybe you might – ah – find your way over here?”

“You’re happy for her and me to…. do it?”

“Of course, you silly thing!  I love you too Vos, but I’ve changed too.  No more chasing after the next pair of trousers that walks my way.  I’m a faithful wife now, haven’t you noticed?”

“I did and I was wondering about Elas being so much more attentive to you.  You’re like a proper loving couple.  How did you tame The Corpse?”

Amne threw her head back and laughed out loud.  “Oh, Vos, that’s good!  The Corpse thinks he’s tamed me, but I’m bottling it up all for one certain person.”

“Oh, Lalaas.  You always had a special place for him in your heart, didn’t you?  He’s still saying no to you?”

“Mm-mm,” she nodded.  “But come the day Elas and I part for whatever reason it may be, he’s in trouble.  Keep this secret, mind you.  It’s another secret we have that we share, see?  You’re not the only one with a guilty one.”

Vosgaris grinned.  “You’re a terrible influence, you know?  You’re still staggeringly attractive – and in another life we would have….oh it’s all pointless to say that now, isn’t it?  what a pair we are,” he said and looped his arm round hers.

“Yes – you’re pining for the empress, I’m pining for a captain.  Think your aim is loftier than mine.”

He looked at her, remembering how she had been when they had made love all those times.  “Before you go Amne, may I just have this one kiss, one for old times?”

She slowly broke into a huge smile.  “Thought you’d never ask.”

They slipped their arms round each other’s shoulders and kissed long and lovingly, tongues meeting and entwining.  It went on and on, and eventually, and with some regret, they parted.  She was flushed and ran a hand down his tunic.  “What is it about men in uniforms?”

They laughed together.

“I know what it is about you – you’re just a fabulously attractive woman.”

“With this?” she patted her bump.

“With whatever,” Vosgaris said.  He ran a hand down her face, looking at her features.  “Stunning, absolutely stunning.  You always will be.”

Amne lowered her eyes, actually abashed.  “Vos…”

“And someone who from now on I shall be delighted to call a close friend.  Both you and I have other loves, and we are right not to pursue one another, but I wanted to tell you how I still feel about you.”

She looked up, her blue eyes big.  “People would judge us as being bad for what we’ve done, and what we are doing, but I don’t care.  I’m married and with child, but that doesn’t shut off my feelings.  If I could make laws in this empire, I’d bring in polygamy, then I’d have you and Lalaas, and you could have mother and…. oh my…. It’d be a constant orgy!”

“We’d get nothing done.  Anyway, want to bring your kids up in that sort of environment?”

Amne nodded slowly.  “Mmm, you’re right.  Yes, you stick with mother and I’ll stick with Lalaas.  At least we can share that kind of pain.”

“Oh you’re so right, Amne.  Yes, we can understand one another.”  They stood up.  “I’ll be leaving early tomorrow, so I doubt I’ll see you.  We’ll write, though.”

“Absolutely!  Don’t you dare not write.  I’ll want to hear all about Niake, Bathenia, the heat, the insects, that idiot governor over there, and charming Clora and that terribly naughty husband of hers.”

“Oh, Demtro.  Yes he’s a bit of a wicked soul.  Makes you look innocent and virginal.”

Amne collapsed into fits of laughter.  “Oh don’t!  I might give birth early doing this!”

Vosgaris grinned and helped her up to regain an upright stance.  “Are you alright?”

Amne nodded.  “Oh, my back!  I’ll be so glad when this is all over.  Hurry up the winter.  At least I won’t be cold for the first part of it, anyway.”

They kissed briefly and she made her way stiffly over to the door.  “Sweet dreams, Vos.”

“Maybe I’ll dream of you and the empress, mm?”

She giggled.  “Oh you naughty, naughty man!”  She winked and left, leaving Vosgaris to fall back onto the bed and lie there, arms folded under his head, staring up at the ceiling, wondering on the future.

Argan sat next to Metila, Thetos on the other side of her.  Darkness had fallen and it was only then that the witch had awoken.  She had called for the two of them and Argan had answered the summons.  She was sat up in bed, still naked.  Argan took little notice of that, holding one of her hands.  Thetos was on the other side of her, stroking her hair and holding her other hand.

Metila looked at the blankets before her.  Only her top half was visible.  “There was one thing felt,” she said huskily.  “On way back here.  One man.  Evil thoughts.  Wanted kill you, Thetos,” she looked at him.

“Where, Metila?”

“Market hall.  Not sure if he was trader or visitor.  Sorry.  Was hurrying.  Left it too late.”

“Left what too late, Metila?” Argan asked.

“Out of body too long.  I run out of air.  No breathe.”

“Suffocate?”

“Yes, suffocate,” she nodded.  “Magic always danger.  Danger to user as well as others.”

Argan looked at Thetos.  “You should stop her doing this, Governor; she’s putting herself in danger – putting her life at risk every time she uses magic.”

Thetos grinned humourlessly.  “You want to try stopping her, sire?  Be my guest.”

Argan looked at Metila who held his gaze.  “I suppose it would be a waste of time, wouldn’t it?” the prince said.  He smiled.  “Metila, I think it might be difficult to change your mind.”

She nodded, squeezing his hand.  “I know danger, I know risk.  I trust you two.  Nobody else.  They fools.”

“Then I’m privileged,” Argan said lightly.

Metila looked a little confused but Thetos chuckled.  “It’s alright, Metila,” he said, “Kastanian humour.  He’s really honoured.”

“Ah.  Humour hard.  Yes, good I trust you.” She shuddered.  “I recover now.  I saw man with evil in heart.  Short, wide shoulders, brown hair cut to neck, black vestment, blue leggings, black long boots.  Not trader,” she concentrated.  “Worker.  Market hall.”

“Good girl,” Thetos kissed her.  “I’ll set up spies there to watch him.  Hopefully he’ll lead us to others.”

“I get up now,” Metila said.  “I hungry.”

Thetos moved to the door.  “I’ll get something for you.”  He left.

Argan found Metila was holding onto his hand tightly.  “Metila?”

“You’re a good man, Prince Argan.  Never change, you understand?”

“I’ll have a good Bragalese woman to make sure I don’t,” he replied.

“Yes, I’m training her hard.  I’ll make sure she looks after you.”

“She will.  And you were right, Metila.  She does love me.”

She smiled.  “I tried to tell you that you silly Kastanian.  You’re a lucky man, having a Bragalese love slave.  There’s no love stronger than that, as long as you treat her properly – and by that I mean in the Bragalese way.  Forget all these weak Kastanian ways.  Bragalese.  She is Bragalese, and in her blood she’ll always be.”

“I will remember.”  Argan stood.  He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.  “Thank you.”  He left, leaving Metila to wash and dress by herself, a smile playing around her lips.

  Thetos was a man transformed into action.  Roaring for his subordinates, he slammed into his chair and began scribbling on a blank sheet of parchment.  Argan wandered in and stood uncertainly by his side.  “Stay by my side, sire, your presence will give weight to what I’m about to order.  Learn and listen well, Prince Argan, this is how you deal with sedition and rebellion.”

The squad officers came in one by one, alarmed.  Some had been relaxing after their dinner and had been roused from their rooms by messengers.  One or two had even been entertaining and had not been best pleased to be curtly summoned.  Kastanian custom was that many of these junior officers were noblemen learning their job rather than men who had been promoted from the ranks.  Wartime increased the possibility of the latter, so men of merit rose faster, which was why in Kastania’s long history any long periods of peace had generally resulted in a lower quality of officers.

The Bragalese war had culled many useless officers and consequently there was a hard core of good men running matters, but now they could see the new ones coming through weren’t the same.  Thetos was of the opinion that they needed a few good battles to thin out the trash so he could promote those who conducted themselves competently.  He could hardly overlook some rich man’s darling pampered son for some hard-bitten backstreet brawler in peacetime.  He also knew these minor noblemen looked down on him as he did not have a title.  His reply to that was unrepeatable.  Having Argan by his side would quell any social prejudice they may have felt.

Kerrin hurried in, the commotion having alerted him, and a messenger had asked him to stand by Argan while the governor spoke.  Now he pushed past two officers who refused to budge when he wanted to pass.  They shot him a dirty look but he was oblivious – he had to be by his friend and master’s side.  Argan noticed, however, and made a mental note of who they were.

Metila came out of her room, yawning, half dressed.  She continued dressing in front of everyone, quite aware of the disgusted looks she was getting.  She was totally contemptuous of these prim and proper dolls, as she thought of them.  They were not real men.  She sat on her chair, her legs bare up to the top of her inner thighs, and she flexed them as she slipped on her sandals, carefully avoiding looking up.  If these fools wished to stare at the inside of her legs then that was their decision.  She would rather slit their throats than let them touch her.

Thetos finished scribbling.  He passed the parchment to his chief clerk, a boring plain man with bad breath and worse body odour who was nonetheless fairly competent at his job.  If he hadn’t then Thetos would have had him thrown into the river to clean him up.  He leaned forward to look at the eight officers standing before him.  “I have been given a description of a man involved in this Slavis rebellion.  He is one of the workers in the market hall down the road.  He is not to be apprehended, do you understand?  You are all however to alert your men to be on the watch for anyone – and I mean anyone, even a canine that sniffs his arse – that comes into contact with him.”

He pointed at the clerk who was even now copying the message onto a new sheet.  “I am having copies of my orders made, and you are all to take one sheet so that not even the most retarded of you in-bred privileged idiots can misunderstand them.  The description of this man will be included.  I want his name, his address, who he knows, who he meets, and by the end of tomorrow I want to know what he shits.  I want everything that there is to know about this turd.  Questions?”

One of the officers, a slim, pale man with a receding chin, stood straighter.  “Sir, are we to enact these immediately, or after we get some sleep?”

“Sleep, man?” Thetos growled.  “Last time these eaters of filth attacked one of our buildings it was when you were all snoring your heads off, including those supposed to be on night duty!  So I want all squads to have three men posted at all times around the city so that we have someone everywhere.  I do not want this one lead we have to slip through our fingers.  One of you talentless wonders will be the officer of the watch, and as there are eight watches and there’s eight of you, I’ll leave you to work out what that means.”

“But sir – at night?” one of the others said in dismay.  “I need to get at least three watches’ worth of sleep!”

“Then sleep during the day, man.  This won’t wait for your precious little head to clear itself from whatever dream you’re having.  You’re on the first shift since you’ve shown such enthusiasm.”

Thetos could see they didn’t care for it one little bit.  “He’ll be on duty at dawn, so he’ll be coming from whatever cesspit of a home he dwells in.  I want all approaches watched.  I want men disguised as traders, workers, street cleaners if necessary.  Set it up, prove that you’re of some use to me.  I want your plans to me before the middle night watch ends; nobody is going to sleep tonight, not even Prince Argan here,” he jerked a thumb at the young man to his right. 

The officers all looked at Argan.  Argan nodded.  Whatever Thetos was planning, he would back him up.  After all, if this was the way to trace the rebel leader, then so be it.

“Burn their beds,” Metila said calmly.  “No sleep then.”

“Silence, whore,” Thetos snapped.

Metila smirked and straightened, her sandals fitted.  “Yes, master.”

Thetos slowly returned his attention to the eight officers.  “Take a copy from the scribe there, and make sure you understand what it is you need to do.  Prince Argan will be the co-ordinator for this, and he will report directly to me.”

“But – sire, Prince Argan outranks you!” one of the officers protested.

“In this matter he does not.  I am governor, and he is yet to come of age.  I am his master for the purpose of this exercise.  He is perfectly happy with this.  Is that not so, sire?”

“Indeed it is.”  Argan stood straighter and dared any of the eight to argue.  “I am here to learn and for a situation like this I have no experience.  We can all learn.”

The eight stood straighter.  A command from one of the imperial family was not to be disobeyed, whether they liked it or not.

“Now I’ll be watching you, and so will Prince Argan.  Anyone performing well will receive a commendation from me and will be favourably viewed the next time promotion comes round.  On the other hand, anyone proving to me that they are as much use as a broken sword will be given the worst jobs I can think of, usually involving cleaning.”

One of the other officers glanced at the young prince.  “Sire, where will we bring our reports – to your room or here?”

Argan shook his head.  “The Governor has asked I collect your reports, so you will seek me out.  Mornings I’m usually in the training yard behind the building, afternoons I’m taking tuition in the main hall across the corridor.  Don’t worry about interrupting me; I’ll want your reports straight away, whether they have nothing to say or the opposite.”

Thetos nodded approvingly.  “Now get yourselves organised.  I want to see efficiency.  Go get your copies there and then you are dismissed.”

Argan swung to his left.  “I’ll go to the main hall.  They should come to me with their duty roster.  I’ll go to bed once that is all sorted.”

“Very good sire.  Hopefully tomorrow we’ll have something to go on.”

Metila stood.  “I will wait one watch, then bed.”

Thetos looked surprised.  “You’ve slept nearly all day!”

“I not say sleep – I say bed,” she smiled salaciously.

Thetos burst out laughing.  “Very well, you slut, you want pleasuring?  I think I can accommodate you there.”

Argan looked at Kerrin who kept any expression from his face and the two teenagers left.  A few moments later the senior officer came to see the prince in the main hall.  “Sire, may I speak with you?”

“Yes of course,” Argan said.  He was much younger than the officer who he guessed was in his mid-twenties, and he had to look up at the man.  Kerrin stood closer to Argan.  He wasn’t sure what was on the officer’s mind but he didn’t look happy.

“Sire – the others and I are unhappy at the way we’re being addressed and treated by the governor.  He is very disrespectful and, well not to put too much of a fine point on it, rude.  And he’s a commoner, whom we find hard to take orders from.”

Argan pursed his lips.  This was one of his first decisions to make.  He knew he had to sound fair and equitable, but also in control.  He nodded slowly.  “I understand your concerns – Captain?”

“Captain Durok.  House of Durok, Makenian nobility.  Grain sellers.”

“Ah, an important trading family.”  Argan had been drilled mercilessly by Mr. Sen on the vital role the food growers played in Kastanian society.  “Your concerns need two answers as far as I can see.  Firstly, the governor is disrespectful, yes.  That is not my way.  I believe he is distrustful of the competence and effectiveness of you and your fellow officers.  I shall have a word with him to moderate his tone and attitude.”

“Thank you, sire, we will be grateful.”

Argan smiled.  “Secondly, Governor Olskan is a commoner, but he is in a position of command and has been put there by the wishes of the emperor, therefore you must carry out his wishes.  Is that clear?”

“Sire,” Durok saluted.

“Very good, Captain.  You may go and don’t concern yourself about not fulfilling your orders to the letter – as long as you have done your very best the outcome does not matter that much.”    

Durok bowed.  “Sire,” and he left, his steps lighter than before.

Kerrin waited until the door had closed.  “’Gan, do you really mean it doesn’t matter?  It’s very important finding this man and who he knows, surely!”

“I know, ‘Rin, but I wanted to make him feel at ease.  He’s so upset and if he’s like that, he might not be able to do his job right.  I just wanted to make him more relaxed.”

“Ah – he did seem more like that when he went out.”

Argan grinned.  “Sometimes making people less upset gets better results out of them – at least that’s what Mr. Sen keeps on telling me.”

In the next half watch all the officers came in and voiced their concerns about the job and Argan kept on telling them not to worry – he would be pleased to get their reports no matter if they had nothing to tell.  He asked them to present their schedule to him first thing, and to begin it whether or not he agreed with it that very night.  If he disagreed he would alter it and it would be adjusted accordingly.