Passion Light (19 page)

He rolled until they fit together like spoons and held her while she slept for a while in delicious satisfaction.

Finally she woke and turned to look at him.

“It gets better and better,” he said in a musing and deep voice. “It’s something I did not expect. This learning to pleasure each other is very nice…very motivating. I am having a very good time.”

“Me, too,” she said. “I didn’t expect it either. Romance, true love seemed like the worst type of foolishness when I thought of it before you. Sex seemed demeaning to me, especially for women. In a world where men have all the power love gets really risky for women. It doesn’t seem worth it to marry some guy. Being independent seemed like the smart thing for me to do, but being with you is good. You love me so well and let me love you, plus you act like my best friend. It’s…something I never expected.”

“Friendship is part of what we look for in our marriages,” he said. “Without it our monogamous and very long marriages could never succeed. We are told this from birth and we look for it when we come together. It is part of our relationships to help us through all the things that people go through in their lives. The emotional support of a loving partner is something we both seek and cherish.”

“That doesn’t happen much here,” she told him. “Nearly as many women broke their vows as did men before the wars. Now marriages…if they happen at all…are purely based on money and security and food, not love or even friendship or anything resembling either.”

“Your uncle seemed surprised I wanted to marry you,” he told her.

“Uncle only believes in either sex workers or alliances that are based on couples using each other for whatever they want or need. No one has contracted a marriage here since the wars. Uncle has had lots of women and even the occasional man, but he never had a dedicated relationship with a woman even before the wars. He never mentioned marrying Angela and he had sex with others even after she came here. She remained faithful to him but she had a lot of men before she came here. I think she liked her position as Uncle’s woman and tried to make it more exclusive. It made her feel good to be the leader’s lover. Looking back I think she was younger than she appeared and that she had been abused because of her physical attributes…those big breasts. They are often a double-edged sword for women, attracting the worst quality men and much too soon. As for Uncle, I’m not sure he even likes women as much as he likes men, both in bed and out of bed,” Isabelle said. “He and the priest often spend time together and have sex, too.”

“Uncle certainly seems to dislike you,” Evan agreed. “I think he resents how much influence you have here. A man who feels that threatened by women, especially one who brings so many tangible benefits to this place as you do, is almost unimaginable to our society. He’s acted an enemy toward the person who makes this place function. It’s irrational. He’s irrational. It’s very likely he could not survive here without you, but he is trying hard to get rid of you anyway.”

A firm hand knocked on Isabelle’s door at that moment and the lock turned without her inviting whoever waited inside.

Chapter 21

“Get ready,” Evan whispered. “The trial is about to begin.”

“Trial?” Isabelle asked.

By then Olaf and two other guards were in the room and captured her arms as they marched her from the room, down the steps and into the great hall where Uncle, the priest and a group of Uncle’s cronies waited. They sat in chairs set in a couple of rows like an old style jury panel. Evan was right behind them and stepped to her side without arousing any opposition.

Isabelle started to feel very anxious, but she refused to reveal how she was feeling. “What are you doing, Uncle?” she asked. She stuck her hands on her hips and faced him trying to seem unafraid, even a bit belligerent. It wouldn’t change anything Uncle did, but she would at least have her self-respect. She could feel Evan’s approval and support.

The priest, the one she had always found less than holy or even moral, stepped forward and announced, “This is a witch trial against you to determine whether you will be either drowned or burned at the stake for practicing witchcraft. We will pass God’s judgment on you after all the evidence has been considered and a punishment has been decided.”

“And just what is your role in this fiasco?” Isabelle asked.

“I am the prosecutor,” he answered with just a bit more pleasure than she could tolerate. He liked her no more than she liked him. His shaggy hair stood on end and his clothing was dirty. He held a Bible that she knew he rarely read as though it would lend him some authenticity.

Isabelle couldn’t resist. He’d left himself wide open. Everyone present knew what kinds of perversions he practiced at Uncle’s parties. “Just how do you think an old pervert like you might have the right to sit in judgment over anyone. Don’t you remember judgment is God’s? It’s certainly not the right of a sinner like you,” she declared dismissively.

Some people in the room laughed and he turned purple with annoyance. Uncle shouted for order and the guards pushed into the gathered crowd to enforce his wishes. “What you think does not matter,” he said as he looked at her with loathing. “What this panel thinks is all that matters here and you will treat them with respect they should have.”

Evan watched the proceedings, his hard face grimmer than usual. She felt his anger, but she thought most people in the room assumed he could do nothing to help her. He stood quietly behind her observing. No one in the room was focused on him or anything he did. She couldn’t understand why no one seemed to notice, but it suddenly occurred to her that he was indulging in a bit of group telepathic mind control.

The priest started with the accusations against Isabelle. “This woman has been practicing witchcraft for some time. She collects and grows magical plants, treats many of the ills of the residents here with both plants and spells, shows disrespect toward men who should be her superiors, has threatened people with poison and may have poisoned her own father.

At the last statement Isabelle turned and glared directly at Uncle. Isabelle wanted to scream in frustrated anger. Uncle had poisoned her father. For him to accuse her of the deed was outrageous. “It wasn’t me. It was you,” she snarled. “You are the poisoner in this room. It was you who killed my father and many people here suspect it, too.”

“Silence,” Uncle shouted. “You are the one on trial. I will not allow you to go unpunished for what has happened here, especially for what happened to Angela.”

“If you had left her alone she might still be alive. I told her not to have intercourse and both my husband and your guard heard me say it. You were the one in the room with her when she bled to death,” Isabelle shouted.

Evan nodded in confirmation. “I did hear her tell this to Angela. It was as she says.”

“It was you, Isabelle,” he uncle insisted. “You cursed her and she died and you should pay.” Uncle never took responsibilities. He only took privileges. If nothing else he was consistently self-serving. Isabelle thought he was being so difficult because he felt guilty, but it was only hurting her because he was so unwilling to take any responsibility for anything bad that happened.

Still Isabelle tried to find a way to help herself.

“Where is my lawyer and what about my right to defend myself?” Isabelle asked. “You have put me on trial without notice and have completely ignored my rights.”

“There is no one here who will defend you,” Uncle said with his sneaky, evil smile. “I say what goes on here and I will say what happens to you.”

Then he turned back to the priest and told him to proceed.

The man drew himself up and tried to look as important as possible. “We have felt for some time that this woman has tried to impede our wishes at every turn. She has kept people who wished not to work here away from us in the dungeons, she rations all food and tries to feed the masses, she trades in spells and herbs, she treats the sick if it suits her convenience, she refuses orders from our esteemed leader, and she has familiars who are beasts. In this case we feel justified in ordering her death with her being burned at the stake as happened historically to witches of old.”

Uncle stood up and turned to the noisy crowd. “Who agrees?” he shouted.

There was a roar of a combination of alarm from her friends and supporters and shouts for them to burn the bitch/witch, from Uncle’s men who enjoyed his willingness to give them whatever perversion they wanted and paid them well to support him. They were definitely in the minority, but it did not deter Uncle.

“We sentence you to burn this weekend,” he said loudly to both cheers and groans of dismay from those who watched.

“We will sell tickets to all who wish to watch the witch burn,” he said, waving his arms in excitement and happiness at the spectacle he planned to offer as entertainment.

Isabelle was shocked speechless with horror. It seemed that her relative had at last gotten his way, ridding himself of her influence and creating a money making spectacle at the same time. It was diabolical. He could make her demise into an unforgettable event.

She felt Evan come into her head and offer her calm and comfort as though she could hear his voice, “It will not happen as he wishes. He has designed his own end. You will not be hurt. I will keep you safe from harm.”

It gave her the strength to face Uncle. She looked at him and simply shook her head before turning, Evan at her side and returned to her room.

In her room she turned to him. “I understand the Uncle has done the thing you feared he would do. He plans to burn me and sell tickets to his slimy customers.”

“Things will not go as he has planned,” Evan rumbled in his deep voice.

“You can stop him?” Isabelle asked.

Evan just nodded.

“How?” she asked.

“As we usually do, through cooperative effort. This situation is where our greatest strength lies. What will happen will be decided by your Uncle’s actions.” He said grimly.

Then he continued, “The rest of what will happen will require great strength from you. The exact moment must be reached for his fate to ensue as the Goddess and God intervene in this instance.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. It sounded…he sounded as though this whole thing was really getting out of hand.

He walked to her and took her in his arms. She came eagerly into his embrace. He bent to her and kissed her passionately. She kissed him back. The danger she had been feeling, the risk they felt coalesced into desire and they fell on each other as though they were starving for sexual release.

He systematically removed her clothing and his own. He led her to the table and leaned her over it. She was standing with her heart shaped backside turned toward him. He ran his hands over it shaping her buttocks and learning the sweet curves of her hips. Her back was lovely, too. When he reached under her he could touch her breasts and pleasure her there, too.

“I think I like this position,” she told him breathlessly.

“You are going to like it even better,” he said. He leaned back and tested her readiness with his fingers. She was already wet and she gasped at his touch. Opening her, he took his large organ in his other hand and slid into her warmth. He hit deeply within her and slid back out again.