The Lotus Ascension (29 page)

“
Do not try to move. I
will take care of everything, and these Desertmasters will know what it means
for me to be Queen.”

Konas succumbed to the lure of
sleep.

Chapter Eighteen

Sunlight
streamed through the window, and Sillara pulled the sheet over her head. She
was not ready to face Vaelus or any of the Desertmasters. She wanted to return
to her dream.

Her dream.

With the skill
she had always possessed, one she suspected she had inherited from her
great-grandmother Mirel, last of the telepaths, Sillara pulled the dream back
around her as it started to fade. Its colors rushed back, and she relaxed into
its grip.

Sillara lay once
more on her bed, but she was not alone. Instead Konas was with her, straddling
her, his magnificent cock poised at the entrance of her sopping pussy. But
though it was Konas with her—for he was her only lover, so how could it be
anyone else?—he was not quite the same as her husband. Konas's fair Ausir skin
was darker, more like her own milk-and-coffee coloring.

“
My love, my wife.”
Sillara's dream-husband whispered words of love in her ear as he
leaned over her, teasing her slit with the head of his cock, a cock larger than
Sillara remembered.

“
My only love, my
soul's
own husband.”
Sillara in the dream responded with words she had never spoken to Konas. She
slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her mouth. She kissed
him, and the feel of his tongue sliding into her mouth caused her to buck
upward, seeking the relief he was denying her.

Dream-Sillara
closed her eyes, inhaling deeply of the scent of burning
shalar
blossoms. The fragrance traveled throughout her body, heightening her senses.
When she opened her eyes, she nearly wept at the beauty of Konas's dark eyes.

“
My soul.”
Sillara cradled dream-Konas's cheek in her hand. “Lie back,
beloved, and let me pleasure you.”

Konas nodded,
the black tail of his hair slipping over his shoulder as he rolled off her and
onto his back. Sillara nestled herself between his knees, lying on her belly
and kicking her legs back and forth like a child. And like a child with a
favorite treat, she eagerly grasped dream-Konas's dark cock in her hands,
sliding her grip up and down his length before taking only the tip into her
mouth.

His cock tasted
like heaven, and she could not help herself. She leaned up on her elbows and
took the whole length down her throat. As her nose touched the hairless flesh
at the base of his shaft, she darted out her tongue to lick his balls. She felt
his hand, strong and calloused, slide into the mass of her hair and wrap a
handful of her tresses in his fist. He did not, however, pull on her hair. It
was like the velveted paws of a lion, a simultaneous expression of his easy
dominance in contrast with his current gentleness.

“
Up, my love.”
It was still not a tug on her hair that brought her up, but the
tracing of his forefinger down her cheek.

Sillara obeyed,
sliding up the magnificent bronze body of her husband, to settle on his
abdomen, his cock still tantalizingly outside her.

He released her
hair to cup her face, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs. “What do you want
from me?” he asked, teasing her slit with the head of his hard shaft.

Sillara's heart
swelled. She wanted his sex, to be sure, but she wanted more, so much more, and
it was terribly important that he understand. “You,” she said. “I want all of
you. I want to hold you, love you—take you and put your shape into the stars
that all might worship your beauty.
For you are all that is
glorious in the world.”

Her husband held
her close then, sliding his cock inside her aching cunt, and he whispered into
her hair.
“My love, my little wife, the other half of my
soul.”

Sillara felt him
thrust upward gently, and she gripped his shaft with her pussy, enclosing his
steel in her silk. She scarcely moved, and yet she felt her climax begin to
build.

“
That's it, my soul. Come for me. Show me how much you love me.”

Sillara closed
her eyes and threw back her head as her climax rocked her, blossoming up from
her sheath to fill her whole body. Even her tongue tingled, and she collapsed
onto his chest, trembling and weeping.

“
Beloved.” Sillara could barely form the word through her tears.
Konas had given her orgasms before, but they were nothing like this
soul-shattering joy.

Her husband
laughed and kissed her brow, stroking her long, black hair. “I do believe you
love me,” he said, kissing her again. “Now let me show
my
love.” He
flipped her over onto her back, without removing himself from her pussy, and he
bent his head to her breast. He quickly suckled, drawing up the nipple into a
hard point of desire, and then he bit down.

Sillara howled
her pleasure, and he moved to the other breast, repeating his actions. Sillara
lost control, and she thrashed beneath him.

“
Now if you love me, give me my tribute!” Her husband pushed her
thighs back and squatted over her, driving his shaft into her helpless pussy
over and over again. “Give me my tribute of cum!”

Sillara felt her
cum spray out of her, splashing against her husband's balls, and he laughed
triumphantly as he shot jet upon jet of his own hot seed deep into her starving
pussy.

The dream
receded again as Sillara and her dream-husband lay locked in each other's arms.

“
Your
Grace?”
Knocking came again at her bedchamber door, and Sillara was obliged to let the
dream go.

But never in her
life had it been so hard to do.

“
Yes?” Sillara rose from her bed, not at all surprised to find her
knees shaky from climax. The dream had been too real for her
not
to
come. Dressing was the matter of moments, for the loincloth and strip of fabric
that made up the clothing of a female Desertmaster was all Sillara wore,
despite her station as “Queen”.

She opened the
door to see a young woman standing there, her brown hair twisted into a triple
braid. “Your Grace, you requested that we tell you when the Ausir awoke and
asked for you.”

Sillara smiled,
splashing some water on her face from the bowl by her bed. Of course Konas
would be asking for her. “Take me to him, then.”

“
If it
please
Your Grace, Chief Priest
Vaelus hopes to speak with you after you have seen the Ausir.”

Pity welled up
in Sillara, pity for Konas. No one would even say his name any longer. He was
still given the freedom to go where he would, but he was barred from her home.
They would have cast him out into the desert, but she had forbidden it outright.
She had commanded them, as their
Queen, that
they give
him a home and lodging, and they obeyed. In all things they obeyed her, except
that they would not allow Konas—or any pure-blood, she was sure—to be her
husband, and they would not let her leave.

The young girl
was chattering to Sillara as they approached the house Sillara had insisted
Konas be given.

“
Sillara!”
Konas was waiting inside for her, and when she entered he clasped
her to his breast.
“My lovely one!”
He stroked her
hair, running the silken tresses through his fingers. “How do you fare on your
own?”

Sillara leaned
up and kissed him. “Konas, I am your true wife. Do not worry.” She felt a
sudden jolt of excitement. Over the past three days, beginning the day after
Konas had been taken from her, she had felt Soren's growing anticipation. He
was close to finding her. What else could bring such joy to him? “Soon my
brother will come for me, and then we will be able to escape.”

“
No.” Konas's despair was plain in his dead green eyes. “They would
rather kill you than lose you.”

Sillara knew
that Konas spoke the truth, but she could not find it in her heart to believe
his words, not when Soren's excitement was an ever-present song in her heart.

“
Your
Grace? Chief
Priest Vaelus wishes to speak to you about the well.” The girl bowed, Sunjaa
fashion, and Sillara placed another kiss on Konas's lips.

“
What do they want with you?” Konas's anxiety was the only emotion
she could see in him, and the healing bruises on his fair face pierced her with
pity.

“
They need me to look at the well—”

“
They worship technology but know nothing about it!” Konas turned his
back on Sillara. “And you must go to them.”

Sillara did not
how to explain her feelings to Konas, for anything she said in defense of the
Desertmasters would hurt him. “I have not accepted their crown, Konas.”
But
that is only because the coronation is set to be next week.
“And you are my
husband. Nothing they do can change that.” But Sillara knew well that Kings and
Queens were rarely able to pick their mates. She could understand, having been
brought up to be a Queen, that these Desertmasters would feel themselves able
to choose her husband.
Had not the Sunjaa of Arinport
forbidden King Jahen to take any wife not full-blooded Sunjaa?
Was not
King Tivanel only just saved by Konas's machinations from having to marry her,
a woman he did not desire? And did not the Desertmasters have a King in mind
for her? They had spoken of the Queen's King and his foretold arrival.

“
But I cannot be with you!” Konas still did not turn around to face
her, but his outburst scattered Sillara's thoughts. “And we are trapped here
for the rest of our lives.”

Sillara pressed
herself against Konas's back, kissing him between the shoulder blades, and then
she left with the young girl, whose name she learned was Vora, to go to the
temple-tomb.

“
Chief Priest Vaelus said it was urgent,
Your
Grace.” Vora seemed relieved to leave Konas behind.

“
I will see him at once.”

But Sillara's
meeting with the Chief Priest took scarcely ten minutes. His concern over the
rising water levels in the well was immediately assuaged by Sillara pointing
out the improvements she had made on Tambril's original design.

Soren's
excitement grew, and the song in Sillara's heart swelled up. She made her way
to the top of the temple-tomb and found there the small door she had seen on
the schematics. It led, as the plans had indicated, to a small covered balcony,
one that faced east. Sillara smiled. The acoustics could not have been
accidental. Tambril's son had designed this temple-tomb, and he must have been
a musician of some skill. Sillara sighed. She missed her lyre, and she resolved
to see if the Desertmasters had any metal to spare for one. Metal was present
in the city, but she had not seen any mines. She did not know where they got
their metals. She had been spending these past two weeks among the
Desertmasters learning their laws and history, as well as repairing every
technological device Tambril had left behind.

She shook her
head, refusing to dwell on her lost lyre. Soren was close. She knew it. So
Sillara lifted up her voice and sang. She sang an ancient Sunjaa song, one of
the poet Aren's pieces on the return of Meshken from his long voyaging set to a
melody of her own composition. Her heart was full of Soren's glorious
arrival—but to her it felt like a return, for was he not returning to her?

Sillara conjured
up another of her voices, one that took up the refrain, and her song spilled
out through the city streets. She could send her voice to any location she
could see, so she filled the city square surrounding the well with her song, a
different verse from each side of the square, and from her place at the top of
the temple-tomb, she poured her heart into the refrain.

“
Returning, returning, the Sea-Lord returning

His sails
white against the sky,

Returning, returning, the Sea-Lord returning.”

Though the
Desertmasters ceased their occupations and filled the square to listen, Sillara
did not heed them. Soren's excitement caught up her joy into it, and she felt
his pleasure amplifying her own and being increased in return.

Then she saw the
black silk of an Ausir balloon as a dark blot against the deep blue of the
desert sky. Tears filled her eyes, and she ran back into the temple-tomb and
out into the square, the square where her voice still echoed. There she waited
the last minutes of Soren's journey, and when his balloon touched down in the
square, she ran to him.

She saw, but did
not care, that Nathen and Merieke were in the basket. Her eyes were filled with
her brother, his glorious bronze chest bare to the sunlight, his thin Sunjaa
skirt not hiding the muscles of his legs, his long black hair tousled by the
wind, but most of all his eyes, those pools of gentle night that were filled
with love for her.