The Blade's Shadow (Ishtar's Legacy Book 4)

by Lisa Blackwood

  Tirigan stepped up beside her and bowed over her hand for a moment before placing a kiss against her knuckles.

  “It will be my greatest gift to you,” he mumbled.

  “A gift I shall cherish.”

  Let her court think she was a bloodthirsty ruler. If it protected her friends, she would wear that persona.

  Governor Gishkim cleared his throat and studied first Asharru and then Tirigan for a moment, seeking to read her mood. “Crown Princess surely there had to be more masterminds behind this plan than just Ekurzakir and his daughter. The manpower alone required to pull off your capture and then spirit you off the island…”

  She nodded at Governor Gishkim. “You are correct. They had help. Governor Ugurnaszir of Eridu.”

  Asharru then took questions. Some she answered herself, but most she allowed her Blade and her councilors to answer so she could continue to watch.

  Bashaa and Laliya fielded questions as well as Councilors Isiratuu and Dipatusu. Tirigan’s answers were clipped, blunt without flowery embellishments. While he might not realize it, that only aided his persona of ruthless Blade willing to do whatever needed to be done.

  After Asharru had deemed they’d answered enough questions to soothe the court, she rose and announced that she had many other things that required her attention. She nodded to Tirigan and then descended her throne, walked the length of the room, and crossed under the entrance archways. As she left the great hall behind, the swell of a hundred conversations gave chase.

  “Well,” Kuri said with a grim chuckle as she looked between Asharru and Tirigan. “You gave the court something to flap their lips about. They’ll be scheming and counter-scheming for moon cycles to come.”

  “No doubt,” Asharru agreed. She didn’t speak again until they were back at her chambers where they could be assured no one else would overhear and carry whatever they learned to the highest bidder.

  Once within her chambers Tirigan and Kuri led the other guards in a quick check before they allowed Asharru within. It was becoming routine.

  But routine was safe.

  Chapter 9

  As Tirigan accompanied Asharru down the secret passage toward the cellars where they’d set up practice rings, he dwelled on how well things had been going since their return.

  The freed slaves had been settling in. As he’d expected Burrakurin and Zinura proved to be valuable additions to their small trusted group. For now, all was right in his world.

  All except his blazing tattoo, which had lit up bright as magic under moonlight a short while ago. He’d been restless since his return to Nineveh even though he’d been busy. He should have recognized it as his tattoo about to awaken hungry for blood.

  He wasn’t at all sure if he wanted to go through with a third Blooding Ceremony.

  His reactions during the last two had been powerful and disconcerting and only seemed to grow more powerful each time. But nor was he foolish enough to fight fate or the gods. The ritual was a necessary evil.

  Besides, he knew to become a fully-fledged Blade was the best way to protect Asharru and see that his friends were safe and that all the other slaves of New Sumer were given the same chance at freedom as he now enjoyed.

  “You’re deep in thought.”

  Asharru’s voice drew his gaze back to her. She’d lengthened her stride to come even with him. He usually liked to stay a couple steps ahead in case they met trouble, but as there was not likely to be trouble in this section of secret tunnel with trusted guards stationed within sight of each other, Tirigan allowed her to come alongside him.

  “It’s my tattoo.” He shrugged offhandedly as they continued down the path, not wanting to give away to Asharru how disconcerted the thought of another Blooding Ceremony was making him. “It wants more blood.”

  She made a little humming sound in the back of her throat and reached out to tug at his robe’s neckline. As she ran one finger along the base of his neck, she made a questioning sound. “Now tell me what you are trying very hard to hide from me.”

  Damn. She was far too astute for his peace of mind.

  “I’m not exactly certain how to name the feeling. Dread? Hesitation? I wonder what fresh complication fate has planned for us now.”

  While that was all true, something else was bothering him. “I also fear whether I’ll ever become the Blade you need, to live up to the skills and deeds of past Blades. No amount of magic can change my personality.” At least I hope not, Tirigan thought to himself.

  “Ah, is that all?” Asharru asked with a saucy little grin in place. “Rest assured that you already are the Blade I need. And you seem to forget you saved me from attacking Anunnaki even before your first Blooding Ceremony. You’ve only become more powerful. Next time we face our enemies, they will not fare so well.”

  Sighing, he admitted he focused on the failures.

  Her grin softened into a warmer smile, and she reached out to caress his jaw, her fingers stroking along his freshly trimmed beard. “Last time the gods said it was worse because of the amount of power they needed to share with you. This time should be better, and if you don’t want my aid afterward,” she paused as a look of mild embarrassment crossed her features, “I shall leave you in peace. But if you need something more from me, neither I nor my beast will find it a chore.”

  Now it was her holding something back, and he thought he knew what.

  Do you love me, my beautiful Asharru? Is that why you fought your way free of our enemy and flew at top speed to reach me? Because it was more than friendship driving you forward, league after endless ocean league?

  Even only a short while ago, the thought of Asharru’s love would have terrified him. But now he felt, what? At peace with the idea? As if being loved by and loving Asharru wasn’t a door slamming shut on the way to freedom.

  He no longer viewed Asharru’s love as something he needed to escape or outrun in ordered to keep his new freedom.

  That was…

  Eye opening.

  When had he accepted his fate to become more than a Blade to her?

  He wasn’t sure, nor was he sure if he cared.

  Whatever was between them just felt natural.

  There was only one thing standing in the way of loving Asharru.

  He wasn’t yet worthy of her.

  But he would become worthy.

  “I’ve lost you to your deep thoughts again, my Blade.” There was humor in her voice, but when he glanced into her eyes, uncertainty peered back at him.

  Ah. She thought his lack of a verbal answer was a rejection of what she was offering.

  Reaching out, he lifted her left hand to his mouth and turned it, exposing the delicate skin of her inner wrist. He ran his lips along the soft skin, flicking his tongue out to taste her. Asharru made that sexy little purring sound that never failed to stir his interest.

  But now wasn’t the time for love play.

  “Your company is always welcome. And I am happy to have you stay with me while I adjust to the power and the new changes to my body. However, I think I should remind us both that you are not my personal concubine, no matter how much my body might think so after a Blooding Ceremony.”

  Asharru snorted with laughter. “I shall try to remember that.”

  He grinned and then leaned forward, closer to her ear until his warm breath brushed along her lobe. “That doesn’t mean I won’t welcome your advances if you should offer me some relief.”

  “Ah. I suppose we shall just have to wait to see how much power the gods gift you with this time.”

  ***

  This Blooding Ceremony was much the same as the last one, with Bashaa and Laliya acting as priest and priestess overseeing the sacred bath and all the rituals. Though Tirigan noted that Asharru didn’t take on gryphon form this time as she’d already donated generously of her feathers the previous time.

  This time the ceremony spawned much less nervous energy in all participants. Though whether that was because they’d all done th
is once before or because Ishtar and Tammuz didn’t appear in person, Tirigan wasn’t sure

  While the gods didn’t manifest in physical forms, Tirigan still felt his goddess near, and the great wellspring of power he drank from was only slightly less wild and chaotic than last time.

  Asharru was more self-assured, relaxing into the ceremony as she held Tirigan tight to her. As her blood seeped into him, more of Ishtar’s power flooded into his body. That pleasure-pain was familiar, too.

  As the power built inside him, he fought to maintain a clear, calm mind. But meditation failed him as his baser instincts took hold, shattered his concentration. Those same instincts urged him to take Asharru’s smaller hands where they rested on his chest and direct them lower to where he most wanted them at this moment.

  Asharru is not my personal concubine, he reminded himself.

  “Perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give you some relief,” Asharru whispered in his ear, her warm breath a caress across his hypersensitive skin.

  “Goddess, did I speak that out loud?”

  “You did,” Asharru whispered. “Do you want me, my Blade?”

  His lips tried to form the word ‘no’ even as every part of his being screamed ‘yes’ almost loud enough to hear.

  “Please answer me, my Blade.” The way she said his title had become a term of endearment. Or, at least, that’s how his lust-fogged mind read it, and he no longer wanted to resist.

  “Asharru, I need you.” Then in the sanctity of his own mind, he whispered, I’ll always need you.

  A moment later, Asharru’s warm hands slid lower, coming to rest along his hips were his loincloth tied. He felt the gentle tug as she worked loose the knots and then the constricting fabric fell away, freeing him.

  One hand stayed at his hip, but the other didn’t immediately go where he most wanted it to go. Instead, she leaned back, reaching for something behind her. He missed her warmth along his back. Immediately he wanted to tell her to return to him, that whatever she was reaching for wasn’t as important.

  But when she returned to her original position and placed a small jar of anointing oil in front of him, he smirked.

  “Oh, carry on as you were,” he said, his voice lowering.

  She poured a little of the oil into her hand to warm. The wait felt like forever as Ishtar’s power spiraled tighter within him. Then, at last, Asharru’s delicate looking fingers closed around his girth with surprising strength.

  She was in no rush, slowly—gods so damn slowly—working the oil along his length. When he couldn’t restrain himself any longer, he thrust his hips forward, urging her to pump him harder.

  Asharru whispered how fierce and beautiful he was. Her words, things he’d heard hundreds of times from many mouths, shouldn’t have stirred him to such great heights, but they did because it was his monarch speaking them.

  The woman he’d always been meant for.

  She sighed out a soft breath along his neck a moment before her warm, wet tongue played along his sensitive mark. He had to fight back his release; it felt so good.

  But he also wanted this to last.

  Sensations and magic mixed, swamping his senses and overwhelming his mind. It was all he could do not to wrap both his hands around hers and thrust between her tight fists until he came.

  “Tirigan, my magnificent Blade, you can do exactly what you’re picturing. I will not mind. Your responses please my gryphon greatly.”

  “What of you?” he asked brokenly as he closed both hands around hers and thrust against her grip precisely as he needed. It felt so much better than he’d ever experienced before.

  It took his lust-fogged mind long moments to figure out why. Then it came to him. It felt better than any time before because it was Asharru’s fingers wrapped around him. Her plump breasts pressed against his back. Her questing lips working along his mark.

  It was all so much better because…

  Survival instincts kicked in and he slammed up mental shields before his foolish thoughts revealed too much.

  Because it that moment with his body clamoring for release and Asharru aiding him to reach it, his mind admitted what his body had known for quite some time.

  He was in love with Crown Princess Asharru.

  His hands froze and then dropped away to rest against his knees as he panted and fought to calm his body and mind.

  Asharru deserved so much more than he had to offer.

  “Tirigan, what’s wrong?” Worry threaded through her voice, and her hands had stilled, no longer gripping him in that delightful way.

  “Nothing.”

  “Everything will work out fine,” she promised, stroking him lightly again, paying more attention to the sensitive underside. “We’ll talk about what caused you to slam up those mental barriers later.”

  “Yes.” He would have agreed to anything at that moment.

  Then she redoubled her efforts, her strong fingers pumping him in such a way that had him throwing his head back and arching his body as he groaned out encouragements.

  “Asharru, I…” He bit back the words that were trying to escape him. Neither he nor his princess was ready for that.

  But then she was stroking him with an urgency of her own.

  “I know,” she soothed. “I love you too, my Blade.”

  The emotions flowing from her into him. Her skilled fingers. Her words. That was all it took, and he was roaring out his release, shouting Asharru’s name as he spent in her hand.

  Later, as he slumped forward in exhaustion and the magic worked its changes upon his body, Tirigan became aware of Asharru’s soft voice singing to him as her hands stroked down his back in long, soothing caresses until he calmed.

  Goddess, Asharru had said she loved him.

  His power detected no lie.

  That pleased him far more than it should.

  Chapter 10

  The weeks following the third Blooding Ceremony sped by in a blur as Asharru consolidated her power and dug into the histories and current affairs of the different governors and various other nobility from the most powerful Houses. Though she didn’t limit her investigation to only the most powerful families. The lesser Houses were just as worthy.

  Throughout the long meetings and dinners, Tirigan had remained at her shoulder relaying what his gift told him about each individual. From that effort, she’d compiled a list of candidates for the council.

  Sadly, one of her plans turned to ash a few days after their last Blooding ceremony. Tirigan and his friends had all been greatly saddened by the news that the body of Governor Ugurnaszir’s daughter had been found, her throat slit the morning her ship had sailed into port.

  Since none of the Eridu garrison guards accompanying Aaunna had seen or heard anything and there was no evidence of forced entry into her cabin, it was likely the work of an assassin who had snuck on board disguised as a laborer used to unload the ship’s cargo.

  Asharru and Tirigan both concluded that Aaunna’s death had to be in retaliation for Ugurnaszir failing to kill Tirigan. Either that, or it was put into motion weeks before by Ugurnaszir himself. If the governor had somehow found out that his own daughter had betrayed him by helping Tirigan and his friends escape all those months ago, his rage might have been significant enough to seek his own daughter’s death.

  Asharru had felt a great welling of grief for a woman she’d never met when she’d first learned of Aaunna’s death. That woman had helped free Tirigan and allowed Asharru and her Blade to meet for the first time. She owed Aaunna so much and now could never repay the debt. She’d even been denied something as simple as offering her a heartfelt thank you.

  Tirigan, Bashaa, and Laliya had taken the news much worse. Aaunna had been their friend. They grieved privately, and Asharru didn’t encroach upon them during those rare times duty allowed the three to grieve together.

  In the end, she’d done the only two things she could: stayed close to her Blade so he wouldn’t need to worry about her
whereabouts and promised them all the resources they needed to hunt down Aaunna’s assassin.

  While her friends had grieved, Asharru had thrown herself into the difficult task of finding honest and competent people to fill the openings on her council. And since Ugurnaszir had no legitimate heir, no siblings, and no aunts or uncles, that left Asharru with the task of sorting through any children his slaves had birthed and determining parentage. If there was no clear heir capable of governing a city-state, then she’d need to assign a steward until an heir was trained. And there would be no shortage of nobles vying for control of Ugurnaszir’s wealth and title.

  Throughout the last half a moon-cycle, she’d found a few promising persons. But her time wasn’t limited to just politics and running a kingdom. Tirigan needed time away from the court to see to the training of his fellow ex-slaves.

  Which was the reason Asharru was free from attending yet another insufferable meeting with the nobility in the great hall.

  Asharru was presently walking behind Tirigan as they again followed the secret passageways to the cellars where Burrakurin and Zinura and the rest of their people were training under the watchful eye of Hunzuu and a couple other of the trusted garrison guards.

  Asharru cast a glance at her broad-shouldered Blade. After what they’d share during the last Blooding Ceremony, she’d hoped he’d open up more, but then news of Aaunna’s death had reached them, and he’d been withdrawn. But even if he hadn’t been grieving, Asharru had a suspicion he’d have proven tight-lipped about his own emotions.

  Secretly, she was certain the realization he was falling in love with her was the source of his new aloofness. That depth of emotional connection must terrify someone like him who’d been forced to guard his heart to survive what he’d suffered. Love scared her poor stoic Blade.

  It frustrated her that she didn’t know how to ease him through his turbulent emotions.

  He wasn’t the only one.

  Asharru wanted to take things slow, to give him time to adjust, but she also felt her beast’s growing impatience. After her escape and flight home when Tirigan had seen to her drug-induced need, and then events of the night of the Blooding Ceremony, she thought Tirigan was coming out of his shell and that he was finally warming to the idea of them as a couple as the gods wished.