by Clare London
He groaned softly. “Take me now. The Guard is on duty at the other end of the barracks. I checked. I will have you, Maen.”
I faltered even as my body ached to be part of him. “I never knew this passion was in you, Dax, I never meant for any of this to happen—”
“Shut up!” His voice was sharp.
He reached a hand behind him, tugging at my hip to bring me nearer. The tip of my erection nudged at him and his legs spread further open. He gave a short, almost harsh laugh. “Don’t you realize I have the same desire that’s in you, Maen? Haven’t we both been holding ourselves back all this time? I never wanted anything for myself until I saw you. I’d been keeping it all inside, waiting for something, even if I didn’t know it. Even if now it means—”
“Enough!” I was beside myself with longing and the need to assuage my loneliness. Dax’s body was a treasure in my hands. It was part of me—he was part of me! How could I explain it? No one would ever understand; no one would ever tolerate such a thing. I pressed as carefully as I could into him without extra lubrication, and he groaned aloud.
I thrust into him then as if I were crazy. I think I was. I locked my arm underneath his chest to keep him to me, to hold him still as I claimed him. His hair tangled around my face as he bucked under me and twisted his head around to kiss me. I leaned forward to meet his lips, gasping as I moved in and out of him, and once I laughed, not knowing why.
Dax lifted one hand off the wall to reach his own neglected cock. “To hear you laugh, Maen…. For freedom’s sake, it was a miracle when I first heard it. A joy in itself.”
He gasped, and I knew he was close to climax. I was shuddering toward it myself, and coherent words were beyond me.
“Now,” he groaned. “Harder!”
I gripped his hips and sank myself as deeply into him as I dared. With a final heavy shudder, I felt my own completion race through me, and a cry escaped my mouth. Dax arched up underneath me, and I felt the muscles of his arm working fiercely to bring him his own pleasure. My head swam, and I panted, still hard inside him, my flesh oversensitive and aching, but I reached a shaking hand around to place over his, clutched around his cock, and we pumped together.
His groan when he climaxed was from so deep inside that I didn’t recognize his voice. It thrummed through me as I pressed myself against his back, feeling every shiver and wrench of his muscles as part of my own reaction. We were a single being, melded together. I keened along with him as the warm, thick seed spilled from him and over our joined hands. He tipped his head back against mine, and his breath turned harsh and begging in my ear.
We came apart reluctantly. Dax freed himself from me, his movements careful, his skin flushed. He turned slowly to stand with his back once more to the wall, and he held himself upright there, gathering his breath. I tried to dress myself back into my clothes, but my actions seemed clumsy and slow.
“Maen?” He sounded suddenly hesitant, as if his courage and confidence had bled out of him with the spilled stickiness.
I looked up, and it was as if I saw into his soul again. I saw his excitement, his fear, his youth. His eyes seemed so astonishingly open. Or was it just to me?
“You know how I feel about you, don’t you? I need to tell you—”
“You don’t need to tell me anything,” I said swiftly. I took the single step that brought us close again, and I took hold of his chin. When I kissed him, he opened his mouth eagerly and reached to run his hand through my hair, smoothing it back from my face. No one had ever touched me with such an intimate gesture in all my life, not even the tenderest of Ladies. It was as if he soothed and caressed me, as if he regarded me as his own. It was an unusual reversal of our roles, where I was his mentor and commander.
When we broke apart again, I licked softly at the silver thread of saliva between our lips. It bonded us for those few seconds more. “I know, Dax. You tell me everything I need to know without your words. Believe me, I feel the same.”
His eyes flickered. There was hope there, and more fear. And a very youthful delight. “You… are you sure? I dreamed it was just while we were in the Place, that once back in the city, you’d be disgusted with me. I told myself I wouldn’t be ashamed of my own actions and feelings, whatever you felt yourself.”
“Did I seem disgusted just now?” I asked softly. “Were we ashamed of what we did?”
He looked into my eyes as if he searched for the truth there, and at last I was sure he’d find it. I’d never shown such warmth or care to any other human, never been asked for it. But now I wanted to show it, and I wasn’t ashamed to do so. Only I knew that it was sheltering my own personal fear—and my anticipation of what would surely happen to us.
But he was the one I cared for, the one I had to save.
Dax bent down to pull his trousers back up his legs. It seemed to take him a long time and I suddenly wondered if he were hiding his face from me. His body had tensed. When he spoke, his words were very low. “I overheard Grien, Maen. In the barracks tonight. About the Mistress.”
“The Mistress?”
He looked up then, staring me out. His face was pale. “She wants to see you, Maen. The Mistress will call you tonight.”
Chapter Twelve
I DON’T know what I expected. The anticipation of being called to account was always in the forefront of my mind, but when the Mistress’s call actually came, I was startled.
Or was I just fearful?
Her secretary showed me through, as she often had in the past. But her eyes lingered on me too long to be anywhere near polite. I’d also noticed the additional Guards along the corridor to the Mistress’s room, more than I’d ever thought necessary. Maybe Grien had a different approach to the matter, or maybe it was solely because of my visit. I doubted I should feel flattered. As the secretary waved me through with nothing short of insolence, all I felt was nausea.
Mistress Luana greeted me with a view of her back. She stood at her window, dressed in her favorite blue silk, her hair loose down to her waist. The room was dimly lit, and yet I had no feeling of sensuality. There was a strange coolness in the air. And then she turned to face me. My senses responded to her with a rush of eager, startled, confused emotions.
She looked well. Her face was a little drawn and she was pale, but the glow on her skin was very becoming. She’d put on a little weight, and the added voluptuousness suited her. I’d forgotten her beauty. Forgotten the dark, liquid eyes and the almost arrogant arch to her brows. Such a slight feminine body, yet disguising such strength of will. Perhaps most shocking of all, I faced the contrast between my current position and my previously joyful loyalty to her. It felt like a sudden bereavement.
Within moments, I realized she’d been drinking. Heavily. My Mistress enjoyed her drink and usually carried it well. But tonight it lent wild volatility to her eyes and a slurred softness to her speech. I was wary, for I’d rarely known her to be anything less than totally in control.
“You’re back, then, Maen.” Her voice was low, and she leaned gently toward me as if in welcome.
I didn’t move nearer. Did she forget how well I knew her? Did she doubt I’d hear the sharp warning underlying such a seductive tone? I’d seen her turn on many a soldier. For Devotions’ sake, I’d known her anger myself several times. Although my instinct was to drop to my knees before her, something held me back, something that warned me to watch out for myself.
“Yes, Mistress,” I replied. “And I thank you for the opportunity to see you again, to be back in your company. It was the greatest hardship to be parted from my duty.”
She stared at me. And then she laughed softly. “The same body—the same voice. And even the same words! Maen, I will admit I missed you too. I gave you up for dead. Only your very loyal Silver Captain asked to pursue your capture, persuading me there was a chance to recover you.”
“I’m honored, Mistress. A soldier doesn’t deserve special treatment. None of us have the right to personal ambition or hopes.
Only the satisfaction of serving the city.”
“How dare you mock!” she snapped.
“No,” I growled back, and for a moment her eyes flashed in surprise. I quickly tempered my tone. “It’s not mockery, Mistress. But forgive me if I’m slow or clumsy in my responses. I’ve had no chance to express my loyalty and devotion for weeks now.”
“Because you’ve been in the Place, Maen, haven’t you? The Exiles’ Place. A guest of their hospitality. A victim of their sedition.” Her eyes met mine as if in challenge.
“Yes, Mistress, I have. Against my will.”
Her hand rose slightly from her side, as if to brush away my comment. “I’ll not insult you, Maen, for you were ever one of my most intelligent men. You must know your position is unprecedented, that we’ve never recovered a lost soldier, let alone a Gold Warrior. And not one who has spent time with the Exiles, and… lived to tell his tales.”
I was silent. What did she want me to say? Was I to apologize? To beg forgiveness for having a strong will to live?
“Even the Queen-Elect is interested in your return,” she continued. In her current tone, it sounded like a sneer, an ugly sound in her lovely mouth, but I knew better than to draw attention to that. “Seleste is returning to my Household, having heard of your escape. She will presume yet again on my hospitality and have her people call on my resources. I might as well tell you she supported Grien’s pursuit of you. In fact she insisted a watch be kept at the eastern gate in case you escaped captivity and returned. As, eventually, you did.”
“We did,” I said.
She didn’t acknowledge my words at all. Her eyes still had wildness in them, and she stepped now toward me, her brow darkening with anger. “Did you engineer this whole enterprise, Maen? Was this some plot you hatched with Seleste to discover more intelligence about the Exiles? I don’t know what her schemes may be—”
“Mistress,” I broke in. I was shocked at her paranoia but kept my expression as clear as I could. “There was no premeditation. I was injured and tortured for my knowledge, though I told them nothing—”
“Silence!” she said, sharply. “And now that woman is beside me at every turn, demanding to know what I’ll do with you.”
“I wish to be back on duty, Mistress,” I said carefully. “To serve you as I’ve always done.”
“What you wish is of no importance!” she cried, and for the first time I saw the suspicion of a tear at the corner of her eye. It was probably the drink in her, making her maudlin, but I felt deep sorrow at causing her trouble, and the familiar tug to the strings of my loyalty toward her.
I slipped slowly to one knee, for my injury hindered putting full weight on both. “Forgive me, I know that, Mistress. Whatever you decide, I’ll obey. You know I will.”
I felt her gaze on me for quite a few seconds before she spoke. “What do I know, Maen?”
I looked up. She was closer now, close enough to put her hand to my shoulder, though she didn’t.
“You must know I’ve never been anything but loyal to the city, Mistress, and to you. That’s why I knew I had to escape, to return. To bring us both back to the city.”
“Both?”
I stared up at her fully now. Her dark eyes reflected the shine from the candles on the wall. “I brought myself and Dax back to you, Mistress. He’s the best recruit we’ve ever had. He’ll be a fine and prestigious Warrior for you one day.”
Her sharp, mirthless laugh cut across my words, startling me. “Maen, have your eyes been damaged too? I’ve seen the boy and the way his face is scarred most unpleasantly. Also his hand is so injured, I wonder how he’ll ever hold a battle-ax again. I won’t be taking him back as a Bronzeman. I have no need of such a substandard person for my Guard. And although he was a pleasant toy in bed, who’ll want to take him there now?” She looked at me very deliberately, and her mouth phrased the words as if they were a caress, not the shocking cruelty they obviously were.
I stared at her in astonishment. Why did I feel she was baiting me?
“What do you propose to do with him, then?” I knew I shouldn’t speak to her that way, but she’d startled me. I’d never known her to be needlessly cruel and I didn’t understand her extreme reaction. “He’s served you well as a Bronzeman. He’s fought bravely for you, for your Household. He suffered most terribly under the Exiles. Is he to be cast aside, even after that?”
She didn’t answer me directly. Instead, her eyebrows rose slightly and her eyes flashed a warning. “So now we see another side of you, soldier. I think the whole matter is more about you, isn’t it? What I do with you.”
“With me?”
The heat of her anger was almost palpable now. “Listen to you. You question me, you challenge me! What sort of disrespect have you learned during your abandonment of the city?”
“Abandonment?” I was too horrified to phrase a more careful response, nor did she give me any chance.
“Who has trained and disciplined your other men while you’ve been gone? Who has kept the Guard in a state of readiness in case of further attack? Those are the qualities I need and appreciate, not the argument you offer me. And this boy….” She paused, as if to regain her composure, but her anger still sparked at me. “Why do you defend him so passionately? What is he to you?”
“He’s one of my men.”
“Just one, Maen,” she said, her voice icy. “Just one. But one you’ve been unhealthily fascinated by ever since he joined the Guard.”
“No!” I had no idea how convincing I might sound.
For a second, a look of hatred flashed across her face. I couldn’t mistake it. “The Council says you are compromised, Maen. That no man can spend time with the Exiles and return to a pure life in the city.”
I struggled back to my feet, whether she wished it or not. I wouldn’t face this on my knees. “I told them nothing about the city’s security or defenses. I’ve always been loyal to the city. To you.”
“You lost men in the attack. You were taken. What hope does that give me of security?”
“I—” I stuttered, confused. What did she want of me? Why did she attack me like this? “It won’t happen again. If I’m allowed to take a position in the Guard—”
“And you’re injured yourself,” she interrupted as if I hadn’t spoken. “Don’t think I don’t see your limp, the pain in your leg. You have indeed been compromised. In many ways.”
“But I’m healing. I’ll be fit again and good for duty, as I always have been.” For some strange reason my breath calmed. The shock of her displeasure lessened. Maybe it was the rise of my own anger, eclipsing my fear. Maybe it was a growing realization that apparently I’d already been judged by her and found wanting. I tried to swallow my indignation. I’d never have felt this way toward my Mistress before my capture, before my time outside the city. Would never have dared such defiance. The feelings filled me with heat and the promise of newfound confidence.
She glared at me. “Are you taking your Devotions again, soldier?”
I didn’t answer, but luckily her gaze flicked away from my face as if she assumed my obedience. I’d been hiding them, as Dax used to do, for a couple of days now. My mind rebelled against taking them, against returning to the calmer, less vibrant man that I’d been. I couldn’t have explained to anyone why I did that, for it was a blatant crime. I tried to deny that I was so very different from before—and yet my own behavior lied to me.
“And the other marks on your body?” Her gaze swept across me with contempt. I felt degraded, and I flushed. “Filthy, corrupting Exile marks.”
“We had no choice in that,” I said grimly. “They were made on our bodies when we were captured. They’re just marks—”
“They’re the marks of your shame!” Her voice was suddenly higher and her tone was distressed. I’d never known her so volatile, and for the first time I felt pity for her. She seemed as upset at her own behavior as she was at me. “They’re the marks of mine!”
A sudden
silence. Her eyes were wide, and I looked straight into them. For that second we saw each other as equal humans, not Mistress and soldier. I saw things I shouldn’t have, that I didn’t want to see.
“You knew about the Exiles, Mistress,” I said slowly, “didn’t you? You knew they were near the Household, that they were bleeding us of men and supplies, and that we were vulnerable to their attacks. You must have known! You’ve listened to my reports and warnings, and you’ve chosen deliberately not to act on them. You persuaded the Queen-Elect the Household was well defended despite her concerns—but then you lost one of your Gold Warriors to them. Is that your shame? That you’ve underestimated the Exiles? That you have some knowledge of them that you dared not share? That you fear them?”
“How dare you!” Her gasp was horrified, her face twisted both with anger and a fear I recognized. It gave credence to my suspicions. She knew far more about the planet than I or my men had ever been led to believe. She knew of the growing disparity between the tales told to us in the city and the reality. Tales that had always reassured us of our invulnerability, of our superior strength and intelligence. Of our dominance of the planet.
So how much of that was true? How long had I been kept ignorant of developments outside the city walls? I’d been persuaded into a false sense of security. How many other Mistresses knew of the Exiles and their growing strength and yet didn’t admit to it? I didn’t want to believe I’d been wrong to place my faith in my Mistress and the rulers of the city, yet the belief was there, and it saturated me with misery and horror alike. Was there nothing left to comfort me, nothing left of the bedrock of my life?
She spat out words as if they were poison festering in her mouth. “Your insolence is appalling. I will have you flogged.”
“I’ve been flogged,” I said harshly. “And worse. I do not fear it. What I fear is the loss of a strong, wise Mistress. I need her careful protection of my Household. I need a Mistress who is leader of her men, an example to the Ladies who are her companions. Whose decisions are clear and bold. Whose men will obey her to the death, as I would have done. I can’t believe you didn’t strike out at the Exiles if you knew them to be a threat! I can’t believe you didn’t order us to take the initiative, to quash that threat.”
