Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition)

by Barbara G. Tarn

  "How did he die?" he managed to ask, his throat still filled with a lump. She smiled ruefully.

  "The High Priestess put her eyes on him," she said. "He refused her, so she sacrificed him on the Fall Festival."

  "You make human sacrifices?" Suddenly she sounded like a Sect member and his heart sank.

  "No man is allowed in the temples of the Goddess except to be sacrificed on her altar for the Fall Festival. I don't like it either, and I stopped going to the Temple since. That's also when I understood Priestesses weren't really the voice of the Goddess, by the way."

  "I'm considered a semi-god by my people, but I am king."

  "The power is divided between the Queen and the High Priestess back home. The Queen takes care of defense and security issues, the High Priestess of health. The Queen determines status, place of residence, selection of Governess in smaller towns and controls the army and administration of the country. The High Priestess has power over justice, spiritual matters and laws of inheritance."

  "Oh." He felt relieved. She was not a member of the Sect. "My advisers tell me the Sect might have infiltrated the palace. I need to preserve my status, I need a queen."

  "So will you marry Meghana?" she asked matter-of-factly.

  He looked her in the eyes. "No. I will marry you."

  She gasped. "I'm your slave," she said humbly. "Do what you please."

  In the six months spent in the Garden she had become much sweeter. He had no idea if he had tamed her or she had simply adjusted.

  The words came spontaneously to his lips. "I love you, Bekah. And I shall make you queen."

  ***

  Neeraj was sad when his mother passed away. Ramesh found him curled up into a ball and it wasn't hard for him to force the words out of the young prince's mouth. Ramesh scoffed at his childishness, so Neeraj pulled himself together only to make his lover proud again.

  That night their sexual encounter was more passionate than ever and as he lay, spent, in his lover's arms, Ramesh asked him what his father's plans would be.

  "About what?" he asked.

  "Will he remarry? And if yes, who?"

  "Meghana has worked hard to become a queen," he pouted. "But maybe it was all for naught."

  "Why?"

  "Father has a foreign slave and mother asked to meet her."

  "So you think your father would put a foreign queen on the Arquon throne?"

  Neeraj hadn't really considered the idea, but now that Ramesh mentioned it, it was very possible. The foreign bitch might sit in his mother's place. He couldn't allow that.

  "You're old enough to attend your father's council," Ramesh suggested. "And demand his abdication if he insists on marrying a foreign woman. Most of his advisers would side with you, I'm sure."

  "If I become king, you shall be my chief adviser," Neeraj said, determined.

  Ramesh grinned. "As you wish, my beautiful prince," he said kissing him.

  So Neeraj requested and obtained to attend his father's council session after his mother's funeral. He sat in the room listening carefully to every discussion without intervening – not even when he heard the council's concerns about the Sect's infiltration in the palace – until the chief adviser Dharuna asked if his majesty planned on marrying again.

  "Yes," the king answered. "But I don't want to endanger the other kingdoms until I solve the problem of the Sect, therefore I will take my pick from the Concubines Garden."

  "And you have already made your choice, your majesty?" Dharuna insisted.

  "Yes, I shall marry Bekah from the Queendom of Maadre."

  "No." Neeraj spoke at last, glaring at his father. "No foreign woman will sit in my mother's place!"

  "Your mother blessed my choice, Neeraj, and Meghana isn't fit to be queen."

  "Then you shall not remarry, father. Pick a woman from Arquon or abdicate to marry a foreigner."

  His father scoffed. "You want to be king at fifteen?" he asked incredulous.

  "I only want that my mother's successor is from the southern kingdoms," he said proudly, noticing many counselors nodding their approval. Ramesh had been right in predicting the council's reaction.

  His father stared at him, serious, then turned to the whole council. "Who backs up my son's claim?" he asked.

  A murmur started going around the table, heads shaking everywhere.

  "Your majesty, we weren't expecting what you suggested, nor your son's counter-proposal," Dharuna said at last. "Please allow us to discuss the matter and get back to you in the morning."

  The king tightened his lips with a frown but nodded. Neeraj did his best to hide his happiness. He'd win over the majority and become king, unless his father gave up the silly idea of marrying a foreigner! He knew he could promise no more problems with the Sect to win votes as he controlled Ramesh – or so he thought.

  ***

  "Why can't I make you smile today?" Bekah kissed Kushan's frowning forehead. He had come earlier than usual and her cuddles hadn't managed to relax him.

  "The council backs Neeraj's claim. If I marry you I must give up the throne," he answered, gloomy.

  "Well, you don't have to marry me to make me happy," she replied. "We don't have marriage in my home country, and very rarely a woman chooses a man for the rest of her life."

  "I promised to make you queen."

  "I don't need to become a powerless queen."

  "That's all I can offer."

  "Oh, mighty king, all I want from you is your body and your passion," she purred, moving her hand along his naked torso towards his navel.

  He looked at her and didn't smile. "Then I don't want my throne either," he said. "And as my firstborn seems so eager to get it, I'm really considering the option."

  She pulled back, shocked. "That's unheard of!" she protested. "Kushan of Arquon shouldn't give up his birthright|!"

  He smiled ruefully. "I'm passing it to my son," he replied. "He would have inherited it anyway one day."

  "But he's fifteen! He'll never be able to rule!"

  "The Council will help him with that."

  "And where would you go?" she worried.

  "If I marry you, I'm bound to exile. I miss traveling..."

  "And shouldn't your son start traveling now to open his mind and prepare him for his task?"

  He stared at the carved ceiling and didn't answer. He looked tired and fed up. Thirty-something, a little more than ten years of reign, and he already had enough. The death of his wife must have hit him harder than she thought.

  That night she dreamed of a handsome man, head and face shaved, a black dragon tattoo on his chest and a snake on his left arm, who leaned over her with a cruel smile.

  "So you want to be queen of Arquon?" he asked.

  "No," she answered. "I'm a slave here."

  He looked pleasantly surprised. "Do you want me to set you free?" he asked.

  No matter how interesting the proposal was, she didn't like him.

  "Who are you?" she asked instead of answering.

  "You want to be free or not?" he replied.

  "Not until I know the price."

  He scoffed. "You are indeed a strong-minded, intelligent woman," he said. "We really don't need you here. You shall be free soon."

  That said, he vanished from the dream. She woke up in anguish and wondered what was that about.

  She felt Kushan breathing next to her in the darkness and she touched him to make sure he was real. He turned in his sleep, but didn't wake up, and she observed his face in the scarce light of a full moon night.

  Why had she the impression that the tattooed man meant to hurt Kushan? And who was that man? Would she really soon be free?

  ***

  Neeraj sat in Ramesh's lap while Meghana prostrated herself in front of the High Priest. The prince wasn't sure why his lover had summoned his father's concubine, but he had allowed him to talk to Meghana about the Sect and she had proved to be a willing ear. She wanted power and Neeraj knew Ramesh could grant her wishes – if
she was willing to work with them.

  "Is this Meghana?" Ramesh asked with mild curiosity, sliding a hand along his back and sending shivers of pleasure down his spine.

  "Yes," he answered, trying to control his need to kiss the High Priest and beg him to ignore her and take him to his bed. "She has a request, in fact."

  Ramesh's hand stopped on his thigh and squeezed it, promising more, as he scoffed at Meghana. "She was your father's favorite," he said. "It's not in her bed that I saw him after your mother's death."

  Meghana pulled her upper half up, but remained on her knees, her black eyes filled with anger.

  "That's why I'm here, my lord," she said. "Prince Neeraj told me of the power you gave him. I have felt it when he took me here. I want to join the Sect if you can grant me my one wish."

  "Let me guess," Ramesh replied. "You want Kushan."

  "I have wanted him from the moment I entered his Garden," Meghana answered proudly. "Let me be his queen, and we'll both do your bidding."

  "Except he thinks you're unfit and wants to marry somebody else. And I told her she will soon be free."

  "No!" Meghana was determined. "I want her life as well."

  "What do you have in mind?" Neeraj was intrigued by the passion he felt in her words.

  "I will kill her under his eyes, and then he shall be mine," she said.

  Neeraj's jaw dropped. He wasn't expecting such blood-lust in his father's concubine.

  Slowly Ramesh started laughing. "By the Goddess, Meghana, you're as wicked as I am!" he said at last.

  "Can you grant me what I ask?"

  "Of course. The Goddess smiles on lustful, bloodthirsty, passionate people like you..."

  "Will you hurt my father?" Neeraj asked, worried. He didn't like the foreigner, but a part of him still cared for the man who had sired him. The childish part who wasn't head-over-heels in love with Ramesh, that is.

  "I love him, Prince Neeraj," Meghana answered. "I'd never hurt him. But the foreign bitch must die!"

  ***

  The chief eunuch told Kushan Meghana wished to talk to him as he entered the Garden with the intention of heading for Bekah's room as it had become customary. He nodded with a sigh and went to Meghana's room instead.

  His former favorite was in bed wearing only white pearls and her black hair loose. A staged welcome that used to fill him with passion but now only annoyed him.

  "What do you want, Meghana?" he asked bluntly, seeing for the first time her courtesan manners. He had been blinded by lust, but now that his heart was filled with longing for another woman, he could see Meghana for what she really was: cold and calculating, and trained to seduce men with her beautiful body.

  Her contrite looks didn't manage to soften him.

  "I miss you," she purred. "My bed is so empty... I understand your sorrow for the loss of your wife, are you sure you don't want me to take care of you?" Her eyelids fluttered seductively, her lips ready to kiss.

  "I already have someone who takes care of me, thank you," he replied. He was about to leave, but saw the warning flash in her eyes: she was going to throw one of her famous tantrums. But suddenly he didn't care.

  She rose from the bed and sauntered to him, lips tight, eyes flashing with anger. "Kushan, you will not prefer me an untrained foreigner," she threatened, all naked as she was, stopping in front of him. He knew she had long nails (he had tried them in the past), but he wasn't scared.

  "Meghana, you're a courtesan," he replied. "You will never be queen. You were born in the slums of Zarquon from a low-class prostitute. You should be grateful you managed to reach my Garden. Aiming for the throne is way beyond your possibilities."

  "So you will put a foreigner on that throne?" she asked with a frown.

  "I haven't decided yet," he admitted. "In her country marriage doesn't exist."

  Meghana scoffed. "She disrespected you. She tried to run away. And then she seduced you," she said, sarcastic.

  "It is none of your business," he retorted. "Keep to your place or I'll send you back to the streets of Zarquon."

  He turned his back on her to leave and heard her scream, "No!". Something hit him and he lost consciousness before he could move one step towards the door.

  He woke up in a windowless room lit by torches. He lay on a bed with black silken sheets, naked. Still dazed, he pulled himself up to look around and Meghana came in, again wearing only pearls and her hair.

  "Meghana, where are we?" he asked, puzzled.

  "The underground city of the Sect," she answered climbing on the bed, her eyes full of lust.

  "What? How did we get here?"

  "I wanted you here. You shall be mine, Kushan."

  She put her arms around his neck and kissed him, pushing her body against his. Too shocked to be aroused, he managed to push her away.

  Anger filled him. "Are you out of your mind?"

  "I want you and I shall have you." She moved on him, but he slapped her, hard.

  "Don't you dare," he said between clenched teeth. "I'm your king..."

  "Need help, Meghana?"

  Startled, Kushan turned around, finding a bald tattooed man sitting on the bed behind him. He must have appeared from nowhere, through some sort of magic spell, as the door was the other way.

  "Who are you?" the king asked.

  "Ramesh, High Priest of the Sect," the answer was given with a mocking bow of the head. "I easily seduced your son, but Meghana doesn't seem to be as good as I am at taming royal blood." His smile was more a sneer.

  Kushan gaped at him. So, this was his enemy. And his way into the palace had been Neeraj? Of course, the lonely life of a prince heir had made it easy for that... sorcerer to get to Neeraj! Where they all doomed now?

  "He's beautiful, Meghana," Ramesh continued. "Do you want me to hold him for you?"

  "Yes!"

  Kushan turned back to Meghana, incredulous. She closed his mouth with hers before he could protest again. He felt Ramesh grabbing his arms and soon he was panting, trying to regain control, to free himself from Meghana's touch, Ramesh's hands, both their bodies surrounding him, touching him, kissing him like nobody had ever dared, not knowing if he was ashamed, aroused or what. He felt weak and didn't recognize his former favorite in the sex crazed woman who was sharing him with another man and even gagged him with her tongue when Ramesh humiliated him, muffling his scream of pain into a moan.

  Unable to get rid of them, feeling darkness choking him, he lost consciousness again.

  ***

  "Do you want to assist your father during the sacrifice?" Ramesh asked, holding Neeraj tight.

  "Do you really think we should let Meghana do it?" the boy asked, worried.

  "Well, she failed miserably in seducing him," Ramesh answered. "The Goddess will give him to her if she spills some blood."

  Neeraj sighed. "I will be by his side, then," he decided.

  Ramesh opened his arms and pushed him away. "Let's go, then. Dawn is close and we want him in our power before the palace notices he's gone."

  Neeraj put his caftan back on and followed Ramesh to the Temple of the Goddess. It was empty and dark except for a couple of torches in the wall to the right of the entrance.

  Neeraj had never noticed there was some sort of natural fountain there. The black liquid was very still and had an eerie luminescence. Chained to the wall between the torches and near the fountain, Neeraj saw his father wearing only a red loincloth. By the fountain, Meghana held one arm of Bekah, who had her hands tied behind her back.

  "Neeraj, how could you?" His father's voice was almost a whisper and he realized Ramesh had one arm around his shoulder. Instead of answering his father's reproach, he turned beaming to his lover: so it was official now, they were together! As if reading his mind, Ramesh nodded with a smile.

  "May I proceed?" Meghana asked sharply.

  Ramesh nodded. Meghana wore the blood-red sari of the Sect over a black bodice and had a very sharp knife hidden in the creases of her skirt. She pulled
it out and the silver gleam immediately caught Kushan's attention.

  "Meghana, what are you doing?" he asked with a hint of panic. Neeraj noticed he didn't look a mighty king anymore. Ramesh was more powerful than him. And at the moment, so was Meghana.

  "She dies," Meghana spat. "You become mine."

  "No! Meghana, don't!"

  "Ramesh, keep his mouth shut."

  "As much as I liked kissing him, I prefer his son," Ramesh said mockingly. But he made a gesture and darkness filled Kushan's mouth, gagging him.

  "You kissed my father?" Neeraj frowned, feeling jealous of his own blood.

  "I was helping Meghana," Ramesh explained pleasantly. "Do you think she'll need my help with that woman as well?"

  "No!" Meghana assured.

  "You said I would be free," Bekah said, staring at Ramesh.

  "Things changed," the High Priest replied. "I thought if I set you free, you'd come back to try to save him," he pointed at Kushan with his chin.

  Bekah slowly smiled. "Probably," she nodded. "Why don't you give me a chance, though? Allow me to defend myself. If Meghana is so eager to kill me, she might as well struggle for it."

  "You know the sword dance," Meghana said venomously. "Therefore no, you're not allowed to defend yourself. I wasn't trained to use weapons."

  "But you're holding a knife. Do you know where to strike?"

  Meghana narrowed her eyes, staring at her rival with hatred. "I think I do," she answered.

  She moved her arm so fast Neeraj almost didn't see it. She aimed for the neck and didn't miss.

  Neeraj heard his father scream in spite of the gag. He watched Meghana drink Bekah's blood then throwing the body in the fountain where it vanished without a splash.

  Kushan was still screaming when Meghana went to him, still licking blood from her lips. She kissed him hungrily, probably drinking the darkness gagging him, or maybe it had just disappeared when their mouths met, Neeraj wasn't sure.

  The scream stopped, turned into a moan. And when Meghana pulled away, Kushan started laughing. A manic laughter that sent the creeps down Neeraj spine. As a spell opened the chains, releasing the prisoner, Neeraj watched in horror as any trace of sweetness vanished from his father's traits.