Authors: Bertrice Small
Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical
“Aye, I do!” she declared. “But tell me one thing, my lord Kol. What is pain?”
She did not remember! Krell! She could not recall pain. He had not considered that. But her loss of the memory of pain would make their mating even better. The shock of it when it first happened. The fear she would feel as it continued would breed up a cruel strong heir for him. Kol took Lara in his arms. “It is naught for you to fret about, my precious,” he told her gently and he caressed her hair with his big hands.
She looked up at him with shining eyes. “Then let me be the mother of your son, my lord Kol. Let me give you this gift of my love!”
He bent and kissed her mouth, tenderly at first and then with increasing passion as the final and fiercest mating lust wrapped itself about his body. He touched her gown and it dissolved into a silver mist. He yanked the length of silk from his loins. His rod was enormous tonight—and already hard as iron. It would remain that way for several hours until the final culmination of the mating. “On your knees before me,” he ordered her.
Lara obeyed and wrapping her little hand about his rod she kissed its fiery tip. Then she began to lick it from stem to tip until finally she took him in her mouth and sucked upon him, her tongue swirling about the tip while his hands kneaded her head.
“Take more,” he growled and then moaned as she took him farther. He could feel himself touching the back of her throat and then she opened her throat even wider, half swallowing him. Kol almost screamed as she did. He was not ready to release his juices. “Enough, witch!” he said in an odd hard voice that she had not before heard.
Lara let her teeth gently graze his rod as she drew it from her mouth. She gave the tip a final lick before he pulled her up. “Something is different tonight,” she said softly.
“The creation of an heir is a special moment,” he told her. “My rod is stronger than it will ever be again. And from the moment I plant my seed I will not touch you again until after the birth. This will be a great sacrifice for both of us, my precious. But we will have other interests to share, I promise you.”
“What else will we share?” She wanted to know.
“I will tell you on the morrow. Tonight is meant for our mating only.” And he began to kiss her again, his forked tongue caressing her tongue, exploring her mouth as he had a hundred times before. Then he led her to their bed and laying her back, he kissed her breasts and licked her flesh until she was filled with heated desire. His forked tongue played with her lust orb until she was whimpering for surcease. He pushed his tongue into her sheath, stroking the walls of it, preparing her for what was to come. He could feel the sharp little nodules on his rod beginning to surface from beneath the skin. His own lust was almost out of control now and he knew it was time. He slid his tongue from her sheath and licked the soft insides of her thighs. She lay quietly, her green eyes closed, as she enjoyed his tender homage. Then pulling himself up, Kol slipped between her thighs. Leaning forward he whispered in her ear, “Tell me you want me, my precious.”
“Oh yes, please, my lord,” she told him, opening her green eyes. “Come into me and let us share the ultimate pleasure of creating a child.”
He smiled down at her and then in a single thrust drove himself into her eager body. The look of shock and pain in her eyes only whetted his lust for her. Her scream of distress only caused him to begin a relentless rhythm as his rod moved slowly back and forth within her sheath, the sharp nodules stroking her cruelly.
“It is different! Oh, Krell! It…it…it hurts!” Lara sobbed. The hard rod within her was covered with sharp hot spikes that had not been there before. They burned and rubbed against the tender walls of her sheath causing her pain—yet increasing her lust.
“Wrap your legs about me, Lara!” he commanded her. “I must get deeper!” He stopped his motion briefly to force her reluctant limbs up and about his waist. Then he pushed deeper into her, reveling in her fright and agony.
“My lord! My lord! You must stop, I beg you!” Lara sobbed.
“Do not fight it, my precious,” he told her. “Let the pain sweep over you. From this pain will come the creation of my son. Trust me! Now scream for me, Lara!”
Lara screamed fiercely and to her surprise the unbearable pain transformed into an incredible sweetness. “Oh, Krell!” she gasped. She could have sworn he was growing in length within her. As her fear subsided she realized that her own lust was being stoked to a fever pitch. He held her arms above her head now. The eyes looking down at her were black, a tiny flame of crimson burned in the center of each orb. As her own eyes closed, Lara knew he no longer saw her. His whole being was concentrated on the pleasure they were struggling to attain and the child that would come forth from it.
He thrust and he thrust and he thrust. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. So near! They were so near! She could sense it. Outside of their bedchamber the lightning flashed and flashed again. The thunder roared over and over. And then Lara felt the pain returning, growing in momentum, the heat of it threatening to destroy her. But she would not be destroyed! She would not! At the very moment they reached nirvana together Lara screamed as the fierce heat of his boiling juices containing but a single seed exploded and the miniscule life force buried itself deep into her womb. As it dug itself down and into her she felt more pain. Then the pain vanished. Outside, the storm disappeared and suddenly all was completely silent.
They lay together for a short time as their breathing quieted and the strength returned to their limbs. And then Kol arose from her bed. “It is done,” he said, and turning he walked slowly from her bedchamber.
“I love you, my lord,” she called after him as the door closed.
And Kol smiled at her words. Yes, she did love him. And faerie women did not give children to those they did not love. Even if they had no memory of it. But she loved him and the seed he had just planted within her was already growing.
His son!
Then he felt a small pang of regret. Her body was no longer his. It belonged to his son. And having tasted her passion, having shared pleasures with her, Kol knew that no other female would ever satisfy his lustful nature again. He would slake his desires on the pretty nubile creatures in his House of Women until after the child was born. And he would continue to please Lara by having each woman he coupled with strangled after he used her. Lara must be happy while she carried new life. She must be content. Whatever she desired he would see she obtained.
And while she carried that new life he would continue to draw the darkness from her. Lara of Hetar, Domina of Terah, savior of the Outland Clan families. Lara the good faerie, mentored by the great Prince Kaliq himself. Good, however, was but one side of the coin, Kol thought with a smile. Everyone had darkness in them. And without her memory of the life she had led before he stole her away, that evil could be cultivated slowly like a beautiful flower. Only once before in her past life had she let the darkness touch her briefly but it meant that the cruelty within her could be fostered, cultured and refined. He would enjoy watching it grow even as the belly nurturing and sheltering his son grew. Reaching his own chamber Kol lay down and slept. His duty for now was done.
K
ALIQ OF THE
S
HADOWS
looked out over the valley of horses where his herd and the herds of his brother princes stood grazing. “It is done,” he said, turning to his beautiful companion. “And neither the clan families or Magnus Hauk suspect.”
Ilona, queen of the Forest Faeries, nodded. “What will happen now?” she asked. “I pray her memory does not return to her until it is finished.”
“Her memories are safely stored and only the Munin can give them back to her. I will not see that done until the child is well along,” Kaliq said. “Then Lara will have her memories and will instinctively know what she must do. Kol is besotted with her, Ilona. It has worked out perfectly.” He smiled, well pleased. “And Lara will be safe for the interim.”
“They still search for her,” Ilona remarked. “The clan families are heartbroken. They cannot be convinced it was not their fault. But Magnus believes that Hetar is responsible for Lara’s disappearance. He would go to war. Mortals can be so irrational.”
Kaliq chuckled. “They can,” he agreed. “But does it not prove to you, my fair Ilona, that the Dominus of Terah loves his wife beyond all reason? He is really the perfect husband for her.”
“I wish they had met after this. How will you manage to keep what is happening from him when we regain her? And how will Lara cope with what has happened to her? You know how damnably honest she is. A wicked mortal trait! She will want Magnus to know everything and I do not believe he can live with it. It will destroy them both.”
“Ilona, Ilona, you surely know me better than that,” Kaliq murmured chidingly. “Trust me, my queen. I would never destroy Lara or any she loved.”
Ilona sighed. “Inscrutable as always,” she replied. “I don’t suppose you will tell me what it is you plan to do, Kaliq.”
He smiled again. “Nay, I will not. You complain that mortals are irrational, Ilona, but your faerie race can also act without logic or reason.”
“Do not act so superior with me, Kaliq,” the queen of the Forest Faeries snapped.
“But I
am
superior to you,” he said calmly. “And my kind are far older than your race, as well.”
“If it had been my choice—” Ilona began but he stopped her mouth with his hand.
“It was your choice when this task was offered to you, Ilona. You might have refused but you did not. It was your choice to take John Swiftsword as a lover and, between you, create Lara. You knew her destiny. There must always be balance, Ilona, and Lara brings that balance.”
“But I did not know I would love my daughter as I do, Kaliq,” the queen cried. “I thought being separated from her all those years had drained me of any love I might have harbored. Alas! My cold faerie heart betrayed me. I do love Lara and I am terrified of this destiny she has been given.” Ilona sobbed. “Look at me! I weep! Faeries do not weep, Kaliq! They should not weep! Yet I do!” She stamped her feet furiously at him.
“Do you believe I do not weep at the thought of the Twilight Lord possessing my exquisite Lara?” Kaliq demanded. “I have observed Lara from her birth. I watched as she grew into the beautiful girl Gaius Prospero, in his pique, sent from The City. She should have been brought to me first and never known the brutality of the Forest Lords, yet even I am not completely privy to the will of the Celestial Actuary. But then I had her in my care and she proved an incredible pupil. I shall be haunted until I finally fade from this realm by the nights we spent together.
You weep, Ilona?
Your tears can be no more heartfelt or bitter than mine, oh queen of the Forest Faeries!”
Ilona reached out a small delicate hand and touched his cheek. “Forgive me, Kaliq. You have always loved her, I know. I am sorry her fate was not to be yours.”
He smiled ruefully. “Her spirit could not have been content in the confines of our desert kingdom,” he admitted. “And Lara would surely not be pleased with either of us if, in her absence, we allow Hetar and Terah to go to war. I have sent my brothers, Lothair and Nasim, to The City to gather what information they can. The High Council is little more than a mockery of what it once was but if the Shadow Princes eschew it, then it appears as if we are no longer a part of Hetar. With Gaius Prospero, if you are not with him you are against him. While he will never be bold enough to attack us for he fears our magic, our presence on the High Council alleviates his paranoia. He believes Terah weak without Lara and even now plans to attack Magnus Hauk at the first opportunity.”
“The Terahns have a small army thanks to my daughter,” Ilona said, “but I doubt they could hold off a full-scale attack from Hetar. The Crusader Knights and the Mercenaries are great in number. Once they see the richness of Terah it will not be easy to hold them back. They could not in a thousand years wear out the land there. And that is only on the Terahn side of the Emerald Mountains. The New Outlands possesses an equal amount of land. Terah offers an invader lands and slaves without number. Do you believe that Gaius Prospero is farseeing enough to dare such an expedition?”
“I do not know if he is farseeing but he is surely greedy enough. It is his right hand, Jonah, who has the greater intellect and instinct. Actually, I consider Jonah a more formidable human than I do Gaius Prospero. The emperor can be tempted from his path and I have already arranged for him to be so subverted. My brothers and I have created a female who will so remind him of Lara that he will do what he must to possess her. Without her he will wither and die. She will hopefully keep him from his own folly long enough for Lara to meet her destiny and then return to her husband and family.”
“A woman? You seek to have a mere woman distract Gaius Prospero?” Ilona asked. “And what of the more dangerous Jonah? If the emperor is bedazzled by a mere woman does that not give Jonah his opportunity?”
“Jonah will be far too busy, I suspect, calming the emperor’s two wives, Vilia and Anora. And Vilia, who is Jonah’s secret mistress, will also be busy attempting to persuade her lover to take this chance to destroy the emperor.” Kaliq chuckled.
“If this creature you have created looks like Lara, will not Jonah be suspicious?”
“Come and see for yourself what we have done.” Kaliq invited the queen. He led her to a tall mirror. The prince gestured with his right hand and the mirror grew dark.
Then it cleared to reveal a lovely young girl picking spring flowers in a meadow. The girl was petite and slender. As she stood clutching her bouquet, Ilona saw she had a heart-shaped face with two beautiful violet eyes. Her long reddish-gold hair flowed free, contained only by a narrow ribbon. She bore a slight resemblance to Lara but not enough that it would be noticed immediately.
“Her name is Shifra,” Kaliq said softly. “We gave her just enough allure and knowledge that Gaius Prospero will be overcome by his lust for her.”
“It will do no good,” Ilona said. “Remember that Lara cursed his ability to enjoy pleasures any longer.”
Kaliq laughed, remembering the incident. “That is true, my dear Ilona, but we have made it possible for Shifra to overcome that curse. For the first time in several years the emperor will enjoy pleasures. And he will enjoy them every time he mounts her. That is why he will want to make her his third wife and his empress. Can you imagine the uproar his decision will cause within his household? Vilia was wise enough to befriend Anora when Gaius Prospero took his second wife. And Anora was content to let Vilia have the authority in the household as long as she was catered to and could practice her painful love with the emperor. But Shifra, being young and innocent when the emperor takes her, will begin to exhibit the pride of a woman who believes herself above Gaius Prospero’s senior wives and he will support her at every turn, infuriating the other two. You see, we have made Shifra an amalgam of both Vilia and Anora. The emperor will finally have his perfect woman in one woman.
“The lady Vilia is enormously clever. She will act in her own best interests, for remember, she has Jonah, who actually loves and admires her, though not quite as much as he loves himself. He is a very ambitious man and has just been waiting for an opportunity. Who knows what will happen when he sees the woman he cares for being abused and embarrassed before all of Hetar? As for Anora, she will destroy herself with her outrageous behavior when she realizes her rival has bested her. She has always considered Vilia her inferior in the emperor’s heart.” The prince smiled. “In the end it is Lara’s destiny that will prevail. Remember that from a distant tomorrow will come Hetar’s true destiny.”
“The prophecy,” Ilona said softly. Then she sighed. “I just wish I could have prevented my daughter from the pain she has, and will, experience.”
“Look! Look in the mirror,” Kaliq said. “Shifra is about to begin her journey!” And the Shadow Prince and the queen of the Forest Faeries watched fascinated as the band of slavers rode into the meadow.
Shifra looked up at the sound of hoofbeats. Recognizing the breed of horsemen bearing down on her she picked up her skirts and began to run. With a whoop of delight the slavers bore down on her until their leader, a man named Lenya, came abreast of the fleeing girl and scooped her up. Shifra fought him, beating at him with her small balled-up fists, and struggled to escape his grasp. “Let me go!” she cried. “Let me go, you barbarian!”
In reply Lenya swiftly turned the girl about so that she now lay face down before him over his saddle. “Be silent, girl!” he told her. “You are caught and there is nothing for it but to accept your fate. It will probably be a most comfortable one, for you are beautiful and young.”
The slavers rode on until nightfall when they stopped to make a camp. Shifra was tied to a young tree while the slavers built a fire, found water and began to cook their evening meal. When they had eaten Lenya came with a bowl of stew and began to feed Shifra a small portion. He was pleased to see her eat for often captives did not. And as she ate he began to question her.
“What in the name of the Celestial Actuary were you doing all alone out in the middle of nowhere?” he demanded.
“I am an orphan,” Shifra began. “I lived with my old grandmother in a hut in the forest that surrounds the meadow where you took me. She will be alone now and she will surely die.” Shifra began to sob.
“If she is old then perhaps it is her time to die,” Lenya replied sanguinely. “I believe we passed a hut near the forest road as we came. There was an old hag digging in a garden. She was much too decrepit for us to be bothered with, but you are a nice tender little morsel. We shall get a goodly profit in The City for you.”
“That was my grandmother,” Shifra wept. “She will wonder what has happened to me now. Oh, my poor Nona!”
Lenya snorted. “Are you a virgin?” he asked her rudely.
Shifra colored at his words and hung her head. “Yes,” she whispered.
“I am going to check,” he told her. “I cannot represent you as something you are not, despite your beauty. If you are a truly a virgin I will get a much higher price for you than if you are not. What is your name?”
“Shifra,” she told him. “I am called Shifra.”
He nodded. The name meant
beautiful,
and it certainly fit her. Calling to his men he untied her. “Put her on the blanket and two of you secure her arms. The other two of you, spread her legs wide for me,” Lenya said. When his men licked their lips and leered at his instructions Lenya continued. “She says she is a virgin. If she is then she will bring us a much, much higher price at the slave market in The City, you fools. We will make so much coin off of her that you will all be able to spend at least two nights at the Pleasure House of Maeve Scarlet,” he told them with a grin. “Now get the girl on her back so I may examine her.”
“What if she isn’t a virgin?” one of his men asked.
“Then we shall all take pleasures with our little Shifra tonight, my lads, but I hope she has not lied, for the Pleasure Women at Maeve Scarlet’s are exceptionally well trained and always welcoming of a hardworking man.”
As they brought her down onto the blanket Shifra began to struggle wildly, sobbing and begging them not to harm her. But she was a dainty girl and no match for the big men holding her prisoner. They quickly had her secure, both of her arms pinioned to either side and her legs spread wide. The tears pouring from her eyes and her little cries of distress would have moved a stone cliff.
Lenya knelt by the girl. He pulled her skirts up, revealing the snow-white skin beneath and a mound of tight red-gold curls clustered upon her mons. He looked admiringly. No doubt about it, she was prime goods. Now if only she spoke the truth. He pressed a single finger past her plump nether lips. Shifra sobbed and begged him to stop. His finger found her passage and he pushed it slowly into her. Shifra shrieked her distress. Lenya’s finger reached the barrier of her virginity. Quickly he pulled his finger back and out lest he damage that barrier. He looked up smiling broadly at his men. “She is as pure as the driven snow, my lads. Our fortune is made! Now release her,” he said.
Shifra curled herself into a tight little ball, weeping with her shame.
Lenya stood up. “Remember,” he said to his men. “I will cut the balls of any of you who touches her
and
make you eat them roasted,” he threatened. “Drop another blanket over her. I will be sleeping next to her tonight.”
The other slavers knew their leader well enough to know he was not jesting with them so they said nothing more. Two days later they arrived at The City. Shifra was taken to a public bath to be scrubbed. Lenya left his men there while he went to an open market to seek a more attractive garment in which to display his treasure to the slave master. Presentation was, he knew, half the battle when selling a piece of choice merchandise. Finding what he sought, he returned to the bath to find Shifra almost ready. He gave the garment to the bath mistress. “For the girl Shifra,” he told her.
“She’s a real beauty, Lenya,” the bath mistress told him. “Where did you find her? I’ve done an extraspecial job with her. I hope you’ll remember me when you get your price.” And she smiled, showing several broken and blackened teeth.