Blood & Stone: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 3

by J. V. Roberts

  Two men were pushed into the room, bloodied and bruised, their hands bound behind their backs. Draxus recognized them as Anthenian soldiers. They were soft. No battle-scars. No grit about them. They’d grown lazy. Complacent. Confident in the security provided by their wall. But all of that had been stripped away. He could see them trying to come to grips with the sudden upheaval of their reality. Five of Draxus’ soldiers stood behind them. They wore leather, fur-lined armor, their faces were painted black, and their skin was still stained with the blood of their enemies. They forced the Anthenian soldiers to their knees and stood over them with crude weapons: bone clubs and hatchets with chipped, stone heads.

  Mirela stepped aside, giving Draxus an unobstructed view of the prisoners, her fingers coiled around the handle of her scimitar.

  “Give me a second, lads. I’m almost finished.” He started thrusting Jehona’s mouth, causing her to gag as he reached up and grabbed one of Besilina’s tits. “Fuck yeah, you conquer that bastard! Open your throat, bitch! Take it all or I’ll chop that pretty head off your shoulders!”

  The two Anthenians watched the display of raw, sexual savagery with confusion and horror, their eyes drifting around the room as perverse shadows danced across the craggy walls.

  “Right fucking there!” Draxus grabbed Jehona’s hair and twisted, holding her head in place as he gave a final thrust. “Swallow it all! Swallow it all and you can come up!”

  Jehona gulped and nodded.

  “That’s good, baby. That’s really good.” He gave her a pat on the head and turned her loose. “Alright then, down to business.” He sat up and faced the two kneeling Anthenians, still naked, cock still erect and dripping. “You’ll have to excuse this overeager fuck-stick of mine. He gets excited and just can’t seem to calm down. Jehona could probably pull another two batches out of me and I’d still have enough juice left to drill Mirela in the ass.” Mirela’s eyes were wild with bloodlust. “Mirela has a glorious ass. Show them your ass, darling.”

  Mirela turned on command.

  “Isn’t it something?”

  But the two soldiers didn’t look at Mirela’s ass. Their eyes remained on the wall above Draxus’ head. They were doing their best to appear brave, to appear unaffected by the instruments of death hovering above their heads, and the naked maniac taunting them. But they were both trembling, and the one on the right was on the verge of tears.

  “Look at you two fragile fucks.” Draxus broke into a brief fit of gruff laughter. “Give me a smile, boys. It’s not that bad. You’re still breathing, right? I trust my men didn’t mistreat you too much on the way here. Just a few rogue kicks and punches, am I right? Normal prisoner of war shit.” He looked to his men. “You boys didn’t violate them anywhere intimate did you? Nothing…deviant?”

  “No, master.”

  “Good, that’s very good. We don’t operate like that. Not unless someone asks for it. That’s the difference between us and the animals. Asking. Take Mirela for example.” He reached over and wrapped an arm around her slender waist, pulling her in close and setting a cheek against her skin. “Mirela, ask for it.”

  “Master, will you please put your cock in my ass?” Her voice was like silk. Her gaze held steady on the Anthenians as her tongue did a circuit around her puffy, red lips.

  “My god!” Draxus exclaimed. “Doesn’t that just make you stiff? Sends the milk straight to your fucking balls, don’t it? Goddamn, you’re a dangerous bitch.” He slapped her on the ass and pushed her away before settling back in his throne, a subterranean god, surrounded by his vicious, unclad harem. “You men should be honored, you know. In fact, you should be the ones up here sucking my cock. Don’t worry. I’m not gonna make you. Unless you ask for it, of course.” He laughed again, louder this time. “But really, you should consider loosening those jaws up and taking me in your mouth.” He wagged his gradually deflating member at them and both Anthenians looked away in disgust. “You’re part of history. Did you know that? You are the first outsiders to see my throne room. The first outsiders to lay eyes on my Vipers. The first outsiders to kneel before me: Draxus, god of the underworld, the rightful ruler of these lands.”

  “Your dominion goes no further than these caves, you beast!” The Anthenian was young, packed with muscle, and just tough enough to get killed. “These are the lands of Valerick Shalewind!”

  “How old are you, sprout?”

  “I’m an Anthenian soldier and you’ll refer to me in a manner befitting—”

  Mirela stepped forward and rammed her knee into his unblemished complexion, sending him tipping awkwardly onto his side.

  “All that talk will only get you so far. Being tough is about more than bluster, kid. It’s about knowing where you stand. This isn’t your land. Your people can’t hear you scream down here. And right now, you’re surrounded by a bunch of motherfuckers that think your body would look better without a head attached to it. You get what I’m saying?” Draxus stood and stretched. “Where are my pants and my shirt? What’s the point of being the master if I’ve got to ask for shit? Let me tell you something, boys. You think it’s better at the top? It’s not. You get your knob polished, sure. But the more teeth hovering around your cock, the better your chances are of getting it bitten off. Why do you think it is that I keep these vicious bitches naked? They can’t put a knife in my back if they have nowhere to hide the fucking thing.” Besilina handed Draxus a black pair of patched, leather pants and a long white shirt that ended around the middle of his thighs. “So is someone going to give me a report?” Draxus looked to his men.

  “The attack was a success. We killed many of the invaders. We set their mining operations ablaze this time. We had not planned on taking hostages, but circumstances were fortunate, and Mokato thought that they could serve some use.” He gestured to the man on his right.

  Mokato, wearing a bow on his back and splashes of crimson across his exceptionally hairy chest, accepted the credit with a hearty nod. “I felt they could give us some deeper insight into how the invaders operate.”

  “You did well, brother.” Draxus crouched, getting eye-level with the two Anthenians. “Which one of you wants to be a hero? Which one of you wants to liberate this land from the wretched stink you call Anthena? Anybody? Do the right thing and perhaps you may even find yourself a guest at my table.”

  “You will never get me to betray my homeland!” The young soldier lunged at Draxus and fell flat on his face, hands still bound at his back; Draxus shook his head as he watched him flop around like a fish.

  “Leave him.” Draxus held a hand up, stopping Mirela as she went in for a kick. He moved to the second Anthenian. “How about you? You got a bit more salt in your pepper shaker.” He ran a hand through the man’s hair. “You have a grip on the rather precarious position you find yourself in, am I right?”

  The man gulped and shrank under Draxus’ touch. “It would seem that my comrade and I are…um…under a…”

  “Go on,” Draxus whispered.

  “We’re at a rather distinct…disadvantage.”

  “You are. You most definitely are. So, with that in mind, let’s have a little chat. First, you also have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know your name, yet you know mine. This is unac-fucking-ceptable.”

  “Sullivan. My name’s Sullivan, but my friends call me Sully.”

  “Well, I’m calling you Sullivan, because we’re not friends, friend.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Sir? Hmm, sir. I like that.” He turned to his Vipers. “What do you like better, master or sir?”

  “Both fit you like a fine garment,” Besilina said.

  “No word, no matter its brilliance, can ever truly do you justice,” Jehona asserted.

  “Now, you see there, Sullivan,” Draxus put an arm around his neck and pulled him in tight, speaking directly into his ear. “That’s loyalty. That’s love.”

  “I’m sure it’s wuh…well earned, sir,” Sullivan stuttered.

  “A
re you, Sullivan? Or are you just saying that so I don’t cut you in half?”

  Sullivan gulped and started moving his lips noiselessly.

  “Relax,” Draxus squeezed the shaking Anthenian’s neck and then stood, slapping him across the back of the head as he walked back to his throne. “I don’t know you well enough to kill you.” Draxus sat down. “Tell me, Sullivan, do you have the same sort of loyalty for your king that my Vipers have for me?”

  “Don’t you tell him a thing, Sully!” The young Anthenian was still rocking on his back. “Don’t tell them a damned thing.”

  “This fucking kid!” Draxus pounded the arm of the throne and stood. “Get him to his knees.” Two of Draxus’ men reached down and yanked him up. “Club!” Draxus caught the bone club with one hand and raised it over his head. The young Anthenian saw the impact coming at the last second and jerked his head out of the way. The jagged teeth on the head smashed through his collarbone and most of his ribs, separating his right shoulder from the rest of his body and turning his torso into a ragged, fleshy V. The Anthenian fell to his back, convulsing and gurgling blood, eyes empty and open.

  “Fuckin’ hell, what a mess! Why’d you move, you stupid fuck? It could have been quick! Now look at you! It’s embarrassing! Who’s supposed to clean you up?” Draxus was screaming down at the dying man. “Fucking Anthenians, selfish even in death!” He brought the club down again and flattened the young Anthenian’s skull, sending bone and brain scattering in every direction.

  Sullivan puked.

  “Fuck you! Sullivan! Sully!” Draxus backed away from the mess, looking down with disgust as bile mixed with blood. “I thought we were bonding! You were calling me sir, I wasn’t pounding your cocksucking skull in, we had something special going! Then you go and puke all over my floor! That’s not a good way to cultivate a relationship!” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Sullivan’s hair, wrenching his face up. “So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to tell me something useful, right fucking now, or I’m going to beat your head in.”

  Sullivan was sobbing. Green liquid, filled with chunks of beef and a few stray pieces of his comrade’s brain-matter, dripped from his chin.

  “I’ll take your tears as agreement.” He let loose of Sullivan’s hair and wiped his hand off on his pants. “How many active troops does Anthena have?”

  Sullivan stared at the floor and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, choking back a sob. “I’m newer than most of the other guys.”

  “Not a good start, Sullivan. But we’ll blame it on the nerves. Let’s go with something easier. What does King Shalewind know about us? Is he plotting any sort of offensive?”

  “Not that I know of, sir. The men fear you. They fear the bows and the spears. I think King Shalewind does too. He’s afraid of an ambush. No one knows where you lay your heads, so no one knows where to start looking. The Eval we have captured in the past have refused to tell us anything of value.”

  “That’s called loyalty, Sullivan. The exact opposite of what you’re showing your King right now.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And why is that? Why is it that you have no loyalty?”

  “Because I’m scared. I’ve got a family. I don’t want to die.”

  Draxus scooted to the edge of the throne, perched an elbow on his knee and his chin on a closed fist. “Nah. Bullshit. That’s not it at all. No man wants to die. You must give him a reason to be willing to die, that’s the key to garnering loyalty. That’s what I do. I fucking inspire. Everyone in my kingdom is equal. Sure, I’ve got a throne and three deadly pieces of pussy, but ask the men behind you. Hey, Elthor, how many women did you fuck last night?”

  Elthor’s face looked as if it’d been held over an open flame. “Two, master. Just about killed me.”

  “What about you, Behan. You get your cock wet this week? Did you get your fill of ale and meat?”

  “I did, master.”

  “You see, Sullivan. I take care of my people. Here, everyone is equal. Can you say the same about Anthena? You toil and you waste away on the docks while your king sits high above you in a castle. When’s the last time you saw any of your masters unload a cask of wine? When’s the last time you saw them lift a sword? Never, am I right?”

  Sullivan nodded faintly.

  “You’re out there risking life and limb while your masters hide in their castle. You toil to put food on their plates, but do they put food on yours? That’s why you have no loyalty. Am I right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Of course I am. Behan, would you be willing to die for me?”

  “I would, master.”

  “And I’d be willing to do the same for you, brother. You see, Sullivan? That’s loyalty.” Draxus gave his lesson a few moments to sink in and continued. “Who is calling the shots these days?”

  “King Shalewind has fallen ill. His son now holds the throne. Though, truth be told, it’s his daughter that runs the show.”

  “And what’s her name?”

  “Roserine, sir.”

  “A woman in charge of a kingdom. How do your fellow soldiers feel about that?”

  “There has been grumbling. Some of the men resent it. Some don’t mind.”

  “And you?”

  “I don’t suppose I mind much. Lady Roserine has always been good to me and my family.”

  “Perhaps that’s why you got caught: you’re soft, Sullivan.” Draxus slapped his knees and stood. “Alright, I’ve heard enough. Get him out of here.”

  Sullivan began to panic as two of the Eval worked to lift him from his knees. “But you said—”

  “I said I wouldn’t split your head open. I didn’t say I’d let you go. You may still serve a purpose, Sully.”

  Once the room was cleared and the mess had been cleaned up, Draxus stripped and laid sideways across his throne, surrounded by his Vipers. “Alright, where were we?”

  7

  The following morning Byron rode far north of the wall. He was lying on his back in a grassy meadow, surrounded by wildflowers; it was in these moments that he felt truly free.

  Beyond the wall.

  Beneath the sky.

  With Aurora.

  Aurora was lying beside him, her head on his shoulder, her curly, black tresses flowing over his chest. She was laughing and squirming as he tickled her. “Stop,” she squealed, trying to catch her breath.

  “Or what?” he asked coyly, his fingers still nuzzling her flesh.

  “Or I’ll stop coming to see you.”

  “You would never,” he crowed with confidence.

  “Oh, but I would.” She looked up at him, her grin insincere. She had the blackest eyes he’d ever seen, they were a sweet silence before the dawn, pristine jewels that sparkled in the sunlight.

  “Such cruelty.” His arm remained around her slender waist, his hand resting on the smooth olive skin beneath her shirt.

  “I bare my claws when the occasion calls for it.”

  “And here I thought you were a girl of mundane pleasantries.”

  “Oh, did you?” She mounted him and he surrendered to her embrace. “How little you know me.” She nuzzled his neck and nibbled at him.

  They’d come together when the morning was still fresh and dampness still hung in the air, they’d cast off everything and made love until they were both dizzy and out of breath. They only redressed in case they needed to make a hasty retreat.

  “You look tired,” she observed, “and a little bruised.”

  “Yesterday was rough.”

  “What happened?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to burden you.”

  “My love, we come here, we share our bodies, we whisper of sweet things. But we know the world is made of more than that. I want to share your world.”

  “You are my world, Aurora.”

  “If that is so, then tell me what hurts you.”

  He sighed and let the soft earth cradle his head. “It’s my sister.
She was upset over my absence.”

  “When you and I were together?”

  “As my luck would have it, we were attacked by the…Eval that day.” He stole a glance at her.

  “Why do you always look at me like that when they come up? You know I have no allegiance to them anymore. I am indifferent to this stupid war.”

  “Yes, so you’ve said.” He wasn’t convinced that indifference was a legitimate position when it came to war. “Anyway, my sister needed me and I wasn’t there. We argued. Then the next day things between us got out of control.”

  “So she hit you?”

  “No. We sparred. She got the better of me.”

  “Bested by a woman. How does that make you feel?” She was on his chest, chin on the backs of her hands, smiling up at him.

  He ran his hands down her back. “I suppose I’m getting used to it.”

  “And how are your people?”

  “A few were killed. Two were taken. We managed to push them out before too much damage was done.”

  “For whatever it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your apology to make.”

  The sun had risen to its full height and Byron could feel the sweat beginning to break across his skin.

  “It’s going to be warm today.”

  “Perfect weather,” she said blissfully. “What did you think when you first saw me?”

  So much time had passed. Even so, he remembered that day as clearly as he remembered so many other transformative days in his life: the death of his mother, the day his father collapsed in the throne room, the first time he kissed a girl. The first time he saw Aurora he’d been foolishly riding his horse beyond the wall. He’d gone further out than he ever had before. It’d been a particularly brutal day of lessons and the only thing that was going to clear his head was breakneck speed and unfamiliar surroundings. He was at a full gallop when he saw her; she was bent over picking flowers, a basket hanging from one arm. She spotted him at the same time, removed the bow from her back, and cocked an arrow. He knew immediately who she was…what she was. An Eval Naturae. They all had the same features: jet black hair, dark skin, and eyes like that of a cat.