Stardust (23 page)

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Authors: Mandi Baker

BOOK: Stardust
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At the break of dawn, Saatan again found his pleasure in Aerial

s lush body. Feeling extremely weak from the night

s exertions, he called for the guards to take her to Selina

s old chambers. He waited with rapidly dwindling strength until the door closed before collapsing onto his sleeping mat. Pounding his fist wearily upon the
silken covers, he wailed against the fates
that had brought him to such a lowly state. Now that the potion that had allowed him to perform so mightily the night before had worn off, he was as weak as a newborn babe. Rolling to his side, he gasped as a sharp pain pierced his chest, leaving in its wake a dull, throbbing ache. Another spasm of coughing overtook him, his thin frame shaking from the harshness of it.

He had never been sick a day since acquiring the green stone from his dead brother

s body. Pulling a heavy cloak over his frame, he called for the guards, ordering them to find his nephew.
When they had left, he closed his eyes and lay still upon
the mat. The raspy sounds of his overlabored breathing filled the chamber and echoed mockingly back at him. Putting his hands over his ears to shut out the horrible sound, he resisted the urge to scream
aloud his fear. A
self-defeating act. He must conserve his strength. Saatan knew his only hope lay in reaching Hadem, the great wiza
rd of the sea. It was Hadem who
had fashioned the necklace that now lay in Selina

s back and Saatan knew he must have another. However, with Bartok away at the Mountain of Life, it would take at least two moons for the guards to get the news of Saatan

s illness to him and two moons before Bartok could make the return journey.

Feeling new fissures of fear blossom inside of him, Saatan quelled them instantly. He was sixty-five moons from his youth, but he was not yet ready to give up his life force and allow his spirit to pass from this body. Not yet. He had much more to accomplish. No, he would not die just yet.

Satisfied
he had gained sufficient control, Saatan settled himself upon the soft bed and slept.

* * *

Aerial lowered her numb body into the soothing waters of the crystal pool. Instantly, she could feel relief from the burning pain as the wa
ters worked their soothing magic
. Her skin was raw and bleeding. The marks from Saatan

s nails had left a series of red, puffy scratches about her hips and waist. The bruises, large pink patches that now marked her breasts and thighs, would soon turn an ugly black and yellow. She would be a long time healing; both physically and mentally. No. She would not think that way. The marks on her body she could deal with, but she would not allow herself
to think about her mental well
being. She must not allow Saatan

s cruelty to penetrate any farther than the marks that marred her skin. To t
hink so much upon the turn
her life path had taken would be suicide.

She was young and she was smart
. It was to these thoughts
she must cling in order to survive. For she would survive. Not only would she survive, she would triumph over all who had mistreated her. Soon they would be hers to command and they would bow at her feet. And, if she were feeling merciful, the pain she inflected upon them would be minimal. Unless, of course, it gave her pleasure.

Aerial

s lips curved in a satisfying smirk as she rose from the waters. Taking a drying cloth, she patted away the
moisture, delighted to see
her injuries were already fading. She looked at her snow white body in the large reflection oval on the wall. Upon her father

s orders, her skin had never been exposed to the harsh elements of the sun and was smoot
h as the softest silk. Her well-
endowed woman

s flesh thrust forward, her nipples puckered, as if eager for the touch of a male. Her waist indented small enough for man to span with his bare hands before flaring outward to the rounded lushness of her hips. But Saatan, for all his cruelty, had taught her one thing. This was her one true asset and she must use it to its full advantage.

Calling for a chamber servant, she hurried to Selina

s vast wardrobe of silks. Her fingers flowed through the array of colors and textures, before choosing a palace robe of the softest blue and slipping it over her head. Her dead mistress would have no use for it now. Watching as the servant dried her hair into a mass of thick curls,
Aerial thought of the plan which
had formed in her mind as she had endured Saatan

s brutal touch.

She must find Bartok. With Bartok in residence, Saatan would not be so flagrant in his desires and she could control the time and place of their coupling. She still had use for the old man, even after his abuse. The time for revenge would happen later, once she was in possession of the secret of the Mountain,
the secret no one was suppose to know of.

She thought of Selina once again, looking around the woman

s chamber with now curious eyes. Surely the mistress had such thoughts as she? What female would not at the hands of such cruelty?

Ordering the maid
to leave, she searched the quarters. She would gain any knowledge that might be here then travel to the Mountain of Life in search of Bartok.

After nearly a half passing of Palermos

pale sun, Aerial plopped down on the sleeping mat and eyed the mess around her. Drawing her knees up, she rested her chin upon them and heaved a disgusted sigh.

Well Selina, if you had any information of importance, you certainly didn

t hide it here.

Stretching her cramped limbs, she lay back. Sighing, she closed her eyes, letting her mind wander.

If I had important papers
I didn

t want anyone else to know
I had, where would I hi
de them to ensure their safety –
and mine?

The words circled around and around in Aerial

s head. She was so tired. She was worn out both physically and mentally. Sitting up quickly, she rubbed her eyes with closed fists. Opening them wide, she drew in several deep breaths, hoping to chase away her weariness. Bounding off the mat with renewed energy, she began to restore the chamber to its former orderliness. She couldn

t afford to have anyone asking any questions.

That done, she made her way back to Bartok

s sleeping chambers. Perhaps Selina had discovered something within the master

s chambers. Her hand upon the handle of the door, she hesitated, remembering the night before. No, she must not dwell upon the happenings of before. Saatan could touch her
body but not her mind.

The door squeaked slightly as she entered. No lights shone through the darkness and she did not notice the form upon the mat. Quickly she crossed the room and knelt on the floor, opening the containers housed beneath his vast wardrobe. Her hands encountered silks and furs but no papyrus.

Curse you Bartok,

she whispered.

What do you search for in the Mountain of Life?


Why do you concern yourself with Bartok?

Saatan

s voice was but a thin whisper in the darkness, but Aerial jumped.


Saatan, what are you doing here?

Saatan raised himself upon his elbows.

Well, wench, I am waiting. What were you searching for?

Aerial walked to the mat, looking down at the poor pathetic figure of the man who had caused her so much pain the night before. His face was drawn and pale, his limbs shrunken and wrinkled.

You are but an old man, my lord. I will tell you nothing.

Saatan

s eyes narrowed.

Do not underestimate the power of my rule, Aerial. Do you not remember the lesson of yesterday?


Do not threaten me,

Aerial said, pointing at his shriveled manhood and heaving chest.

You have lost all ability to please a woman. Or inflict your strength upon me.

She flounced away, intent on searching the quarters thoroughly.


Experience my touch again,

Saatan command, lifting his hand toward her retreating back.

Aerial was brought to a sudden halt by an unseen force. Her arms and legs were completely immobilized as she felt the clothes being stripped from her body. She cried out in terror for no one was there, yet she felt the prodding of hard male shaft between her legs.

What magic do you posses
s
?

she shouted as her body was
penetrated over and over again.

Saatan

s lips curved in a wicked smile as he lay upon the mat enjoying the woman

s obvious discomfort and building
pleasure.

I posses
s
the power of the ages. Even as the life breath
is stolen from my aged body, my mind is strong and masterful.

Aerial c
ould not help the shudders which
rippled through her body as the pressure increased. Never had she known such unadulterated fulfillment.

Please my master, bring me to satisfaction,

she begged.


You will do as I command?

Saatan asked, stopping the movement within her body.


Yes, I will do as you command,

Aerial vowed, tears falling from her face. She would do anything to keep this most wondrous feeling from ceasing.


Then so be it.

Immediately the movement escalated, bringing Aerial to her knees with its intensity.

After Aerial recovered, she crawled to the sleeping mat, placing one trembling had upon Saatan

s body. Even having witnessed her pleasure, his manhood remained lifeless.

Is there not something I can do for you?

Saatan raised one hand to stroke the dark curls.

I have sent the guards to the Mountain of Life to fetch my nephew. He must travel to the end of the land to bring Hadem, the great wizard, to me.

His hand tightened upon her hair, pulling the strands viciously from her scalp.

Aerial raised her hand and looked into the pale eyes, the only feature on Saatan that still glowed with strength. Her mind whirled at this new development. This wizard he sought could provide her with the power she needed. Every male was susceptible to a maiden

s charms, even the most powerful of males. Yes, Hadem would give her the power she needed to rule.

She tensed as she felt the unseen touch again, then relaxed slowly. There was no need to deny herself pleasure.

* * *

Saatan awoke suddenly in the darkened chamber, lying perfectly still as his old eyes adjusted to the blackness. Turning his head upon the soft pillow, he stared through the wide portal at the night sky.

A brilliant flash of lightening illuminated the inky night, briefly outlining the shadowy tops of the dwellings on the hillside below the castle. The wind stirred, blowing a refreshing breeze through the stillness of the chamber. But Saatan shivered and huddled deeper beneath the thick covers of his nephew

s sleeping mat.

There were no stars to light the way for weary travelers, and not one of Palermos

four moons brightened the end of the day sky
. Saatan wondered where Bartok was and whether he had found suitable shelter from the coming storm. He hoped his nephew would not dally for long in waiting out the storm. H
e needed the services of Hadem –
and soon. The wait was growing intolerable.

Another shaft of lightening streaked across the sky, followed by an ominous clasp of thunder.

By the gods,

Saatan whispered.

It sounds as though the seals of Aerman are breaking and the hoofed firstlings are escaping into the night.


What are you muttering about, old man?

Saatan turned at the sound of the voice, having forgotten about his sleeping companion. He considered ignoring her presence, then thought better of it. Even this young witch

s company was better than battling the approaching storm alone.

I refer to the ancient ones. But you would not be interested in the past.

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