Lord of the White Hell Book One

by Ginn Hale

  “I don’t know. Her sister was supposed to bring her.” Concern finally registered on Nestor’s face.

  As the music quieted the servant on the stairs read from a card and announced, “Miss Riossa Arevillo, daughter of His Honor Judge Arevillo.”

  Lady Grunito’s head came up like a hunting hound’s. Javier strode across the room, intercepting her before she could reach Riossa while Nestor hurried to lead the girl onto the dance floor as the music once again filled the room. Lady Grunito danced with Javier, though her eyes remained fixed on Nestor and Riossa.

  “This could get ugly,” Elezar remarked.

  “Is it really so bad that she came?” Kiram couldn’t quite see why it should be. Riossa was obviously not as wealthy or titled as the other women attending the dance, but she hadn’t come uninvited. Her situation reminded Kiram of his own.

  Elezar gave Kiram a stern look. “An unwed girl, and she comes, alone, to see Nestor? Either she’s an idiot or she’s one hell of a conniving little bitch. What if her father demands her reputation and his name be honored?” Elezar scowled at Riossa with the same cold contempt that Lady Grunito shot at the girl. “Nestor’s done for.”

  “What do you mean?” Suddenly icy dread flooded Kiram. “Will her father challenge Nestor to a duel?”

  “What? Not likely,” Elezar responded. “He’ll demand that Nestor marry his daughter.”

  “Marry?” Kiram repeated, feeling stupid and yet unable to get past the idea. Nestor had only met Riossa this week. How could anyone expect them to wed?

  Javier managed to delay Lady Grunito for the entire dance but once it ended she caught the young couple. Riossa looked frightened but Nestor seemed defiant. Kiram expected an argument like the ones he’d often heard ringing throughout his own house when his mother and sister clashed.

  Instead, Lady Grunito spoke so softly that the words didn’t carry over the music. Nestor’s expression weakened as his mother continued to speak. Worry crept into his countenance. He and Riossa both bowed their heads to Lady Grunito and withdrew to a side room, still holding hands. Two of Lady Grunito’s maids followed them like prison guards. Guests murmured among themselves. Some laughed, others shared scandalized glances, but couples still took to the floor to dance. As music washed over the hushed speculations, Javier returned to Kiram and Elezar.

  “Your mother will do what she can. She’s sending for the girl’s father. Hopefully, he’ll see that no harm has been done to his daughter but who knows? Even being a third son, Nestor’s a good catch for a judge’s daughter.”

  “Damn it,” Elezar growled. “She came alone on purpose, didn’t she?”

  “Nestor can always refuse to have her. If it comes to a duel, I’d be happy to stand for him.” Javier smiled in that cruel manner that seemed to cheer Elezar though Kiram found it a little disturbing.

  “You and me both,” Elezar agreed.

  “Riossa didn’t strike me as the scheming sort,” Kiram argued. “She certainly had plenty of other, far better opportunities to be alone with Nestor if she’d been looking for them.”

  “Possibly,” Javier allowed, but he seemed hesitant to give Riossa the benefit of the doubt. “Either way, we aren’t likely to know anything more until we see Nestor tomorrow at chapel. And I’m getting bored watching all this prancing.”

  Elezar grinned. “Master Ignacio is in the card room. He said we ought to come see him when we tire of the ballroom’s amusements.”

  Javier didn’t respond directly, instead he just gave a nod. Elezar raised his right hand and flashed two fingers in the sign of the Hellions. Atreau, Morisio, and Genimo left their partners and came to Javier’s side.

  “Get Fedeles,” Javier said told Genimo. Fedeles looked put out to be called from the dance floor but as he caught sight of Javier he grinned.

  “Lunaluz,” Fedeles murmured to Javier. Then he once again caught Kiram’s hand in his own, whispering, “Be brave.”

  “Fedeles.” Javier waved a hand to catch his cousin’s attention. “Do you want to stay at the dance or do you want to come out with us and Master Ignacio?”

  “Dancing.” Fedeles rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious. He pulled Kiram close. “We will dance all night.”

  “Don’t embarrass Kiram,” Javier said firmly. He glanced to Genimo. “Staying with your sisters?”

  “I’m their chaperone,” Genimo replied.

  “Make sure Fedeles and Kiram both get back to my house.” Javier gave the sweeping instruction easily.

  “I’m to stay here? And what, watch everyone dance? I’d rather—”

  “He’s right, Javier,” Atreau interrupted. “There’s nothing for Kiram to do here and besides that, he’s been blooded in battle now. He should come out with us.” He gave Kiram a conspiratorial wink.

  Javier’s jaw clenched and Kiram could tell that he didn’t want Kiram with them. At the same time, Kiram didn’t wish to be stranded at a Cadeleonian celebration, where no one would speak to him much less dance with him.

  “I’ll return to the townhouse.”

  “Have a heart, Javier.” Atreau spoke directly over Kiram’s own words. “It will put Master Ignacio’s fears to rest, I’m sure. And the more the merrier. Let Kiram come.”

  “Atreau makes a good point,” Morisio added. “Master Ignacio would certainly go easier on Kiram if he knew he was man enough to ride a whore as well as a horse.”

  Elezar said nothing and looked none too pleased.

  “Look there’s no need for—” Kiram began again but Javier cut him of this time.

  “Fine. You’ll join us,” Javier snapped, glowering at Kiram as though he had become some annoyance. “But don’t make an ass of yourself over some twat the way Nestor has.”

  Kiram blanched at the remark but the other Hellions laughed. Atreau slapped Kiram on the back and assured him that the whores wouldn’t mind the color of his skin so long as he had money. Morisio assured Kiram that the Goldenrod girls didn’t mind anything, not even Elezar’s filthy tastes.

  They adjourned to the card room where Kiram was surprised to see four more Hellions lounging around Master Ignacio’s table. They gathered around Javier, faces lit with excitement at the prospect of the bawdy victory celebration awaiting them. After only a few words to his fellow players, the war master gathered his winnings and escorted them all to the hulking, gilded chambers of the Goldenrod Inn.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Kiram had never been in a brothel and he did not want to be in one now.

  Still, he stared around with anxious curiosity. Just past the dark narrow entry, the building opened into a large foyer. Throughout the room, small clusters of candles protruded from silver and brass plates hung on the walls. They added the scent of tallow to the thick perfume that hung in the air. Dark wisps of smoke rose from the dull yellow flames. Through the luminous haze, the gathered figures took on a soft glow.

  Large-breasted Cadeleonian women lounged on dark red divans and sat around small, circular tables talking with the well-dressed Cadeleonian men. Some of the women wore outlandish gowns, cut far too short at the thighs or made only from strips of cloth and glittering beads. All of them wore their hair loose, though some had obviously powdered their tresses black.

  Women and men alike glanced up when the Hellions arrived. Men averted their attention, but the women’s gazes lingered. Though many of them smiled at Atreau, none would meet Javier’s cold gaze. When two women caught sight of Kiram their seductive and coy expressions failed utterly. One woman’s jaw dropped; another choked on her wine. He wanted to tell them that he was no more pleased about the situation than any of them were, but that would have defeated the entire point of him being here.

  Master Ignacio laughed and, for the first time, his reserve towards Kiram dissipated. He clapped Kiram on the back as though they were sharing a joke at the women’s expenses. “Too much for that one to swallow, aren’t you, Kiram?”

  “Apparently so,” Kiram agreed.

>   A tall woman in her mid-forties rose from one of the red chairs. Scarlet flowers bloomed across the short expanse of her white bodice. Both hips and breasts flashed briefly as she walked towards them. She lifted a dainty liqueur glass to Master Ignacio.

  “The Sagrada champions. We had hoped we could celebrate your victories with you.” She smiled at the Hellions in an almost maternal manner; though, like the younger women, her gaze lingered a little too long on Atreau and moved too quickly past Javier. Her smile did not falter as she met Kiram’s gaze. Nervous dread spread through Kiram as she stepped closer to him.

  “You must be Lord Tornesal’s underclassman.” She caught hold of a ringlet of Kiram’s hair. “They say you impressed even Prince Sevanyo.” As she pulled her hand back she stroked Kiram’s cheek. Her fingers felt warm and slightly moist.

  “I’m Kiram Kir-Zaki, madam.” Kiram bowed to her just as he would have bowed to any Cadleonian woman. She laughed and Master Ignacio seemed amused. The other Hellions snickered at the misstep, except for Javier, who looked annoyed.

  “Such a gentleman,” the woman said softly. Then she turned to Master Ignacio. “Padme and Ania would be happy to entertain you privately, good master. And the grand chamber is free for your boys. How many of my young fillies for your Sagrada stallions?”

  “Eighteen of your best.” Master Ignacio paused, surveying the Hellions. “And a few bottles of white ruin as well. They’ve done well this year.”

  With that Master Ignacio strode up the staircase as if the Goldenrod was his own home, calling over his shoulder. “Send Padme and Ania up to the pearl room directly.”

  “As you wish.” The woman bowed to Master Ignacio’s back. Then she turned to the remaining Hellions. “Well, you know where the grand chamber is. Make yourselves comfortable. Your entertainment won’t keep you waiting long.”

  As a mass, Hellions tromped and bounded up the stairs, Atreau at the lead and Elezar taking up the rear. Kiram stumbled along, trapped between Javier’s even strides and Morisio’s impatient push.

  Eighteen. That meant two women for every Hellion. A clammy sick feeling spread through Kiram. He couldn’t do this but also could not find a way to escape.

  They surged through the narrow hall and poured into a humid room. The only source of illumination blazed from the flames of a large fireplace. Light glinted across the silk tassels and strings of glass beads that cascaded down the posts of an immense bed at the center of the room. Scarlet pillows spilled off the huge mattress and lay scattered across the floor. Through the heavy scents of perfume and spices, Kiram still picked up the smell of spent semen and sweat.

  Atreau tore off his boots and threw aside his coat. Javier, too, removed his shoes, but with far less enthusiasm. The rest of the Hellions also stripped down to their trousers and undershirts. Kiram followed suit, laying his coat and vest beside Javier’s.

  Atreau scooped up one of the pillows, sniffed it appreciatively and then he hurled it to Elezar.

  “She was a wet one,” Atreau called. And suddenly the reality of what they were here for sank through Kiram. He swallowed hard. If he fled now he’d never live it down. Worse, he would probably confirm Master Ignacio’s suspicions about him. After the women came in, he thought, the other Hellions would be distracted, then he could slip out.

  Elezar hurled the pillow to Atreau and Atreau flopped back on the bed laughing. Other Hellions joined him on the bed. They passed the pillow between them and snickered at its lingering odor.

  “You look like a bunch of benders,” Elezar told them. Morisio waved his ass at Elezar and Elezar bounded onto the bed and wrestled Morisio into a headlock. Atreau drove Elezar back, playfully smacking him with the pillow.

  Javier strode past the bed and picked up a liquor bottle from the mantle over the fireplace. He uncorked it and took a deep drink.

  “Hey, what have you got there?” Morisio demanded.

  “White ruin,” Javier replied after a second drink. He strode to Morisio and pushed the mouth of the bottle between his lips. Morisio swallowed as Javier tipped the bottle back.

  “A gift from the previous occupants, no doubt.” Javier pulled the bottle back.

  “Javier, give some here,” Elezar demanded. He leaned forward, allowing Javier to catch his jaw and tip the bottle between his lips.

  Kiram wasn’t sure if it was just a play of the light but for an instant Elezar’s expression seemed to soften, becoming almost tender as he gazed up at Javier. Then Javier pulled the bottle from Elezar and turned on Kiram.

  “Come here,” Javier ordered. His tone was so harsh that Kiram balked. He didn’t want to move away from the door and its implicit promise of escape.

  “Come,” Javier growled.

  Kiram cautiously walked to Javier’s side. Though heat poured from the fire, Kiram felt clammy. Javier shoved him onto the bed where he fell half across Elezar.

  “To a Hellion’s life.” Javier held out the bottle.

  Kiram started to reach for it but Elezar pulled his arm back. Javier caught Kiram’s jaw as he had held Elezar’s earlier. He tipped the bottle and a harsh antiseptic tang of alcohol filled Kiram’s lungs. Javier pushed the bottle into his mouth none too gently. Scorching liquor spilled across Kiram’s mouth. He swallowed to keep from choking, taking deep gulps of the liquor. His stomach rolled and burned. His throat tightened. Just as Kiram started to choke, Javier lifted the bottle.

  Elezar clapped Kiram on the back.

  “Taken like a man,” Elezar congratulated him.

  At first Kiram felt nothing but relief, then a wave of disorienting heat rolled over him. His tongue felt numb.

  Javier took a quick swig himself and then handed the bottle to Atreau, who drank deeply and let out a whoop. He passed the bottle to the man beside him. Moments later young women, clothed in nothing but gold powder paraded into the room. Several carried bottles like the one Javier had forced into Kiram’s mouth. The Hellions howled and hooted as the women ran their hands over each other’s breasts and slid their fingers between their thighs and lips.

  “White ruin!” Javier shouted. A young girl pranced to the bedside holding a bottle at a provocative angle in front of her groin. Javier snatched the bottle from her hands, nearly pulling her off her feet. The girl fell half on Elezar and half on Kiram. Javier wrenched the cork free and drank more.

  More women tumbled and bounded onto the bed. They giggled and squealed as Hellions grabbed their bodies. Kiram evaded jiggling breasts, jutting nipples and closely cropped pubic hair as girls wiggled past him. A strong smell of alcohol and sweat rolled off the girl lying across him. He felt one of her hands grope at his hip. Kiram shifted quickly, rolling her onto Elezar.

  “May I have a kiss?” Atreau purred from across the bed. Some dark-haired woman smiled at him and spread her legs wide. Atreau shoved his face into her glistening crotch. A wave of nauseous dread rose through Kiram. He could not do that. No matter how much he wanted to impress Master Ignacio, he just couldn’t.

  Next to him, the young girl crouched over Elezar’s newly bare hips, but leaned forward to where Javier stood beside the bed. She grasped the front of Javier’s trousers and opened them with agile hands.

  Someone’s bare thigh brushed the side of Kiram’s face. He rolled closer to Elezar to avoid the contact. Gasps and breathless moans mingled with whispered obscenities. The bed rocked and jerked with so many writhing bodies. Kiram eluded another leg, though his hand came away wet.

  And then he realized that Javier was staring straight at him as the girl took him into her mouth. His gaze seemed unbearably intense and Kiram didn’t know if it was desire or shame that colored his cheeks. Kiram couldn’t help but remember the taste of Javier and the heat of him in his own mouth and yet he hated the sight of this girl taking what should have been his own. He despised the fact that Javier just stood there, looking beautiful and aloof, and allowed it to happen.

  Arousal, repulsion, and jealous anger crashed through Kiram. He didn’t want to s
ee this. He didn’t care if this was what it took to be a Hellion—to impress Master Ignacio or Prince Sevanyo or to convince all these Cadeleonian men that he was worthy of their company—he didn’t want any part of it.

  Beside him, Elezar’s hips flexed and pumped, bouncing the girl’s splayed legs against Kiram’s thigh. Javier clenched his eyes closed. Elezar pulled himself almost upright, driving deep into the girl but reaching out and grasping Javier’s hand. Javier returned his grip but didn’t open his eyes.

  Some woman slid her hand down along Kiram’s chest and dug her nails hard into his shoulder.

  “Do you want to fuck me?” The woman’s hot breath fluttered across Kiram’s ear.

  “I…” Kiram could feel the blood draining from his face. No doubt, Javier would have taken the woman. Maybe he still would. The thought tore into Kiram.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Kiram said quietly and instantly the woman’s hand retracted. Kiram slipped off the edge of the bed and fled the grand chamber.

  He took the stairs in a fast dash, raced through the entryway, and was out the door. Cold night air washed over him on the street. Kiram shuddered. He had taken his shoes but left his borrowed vest and jacket in the Goldenrod.

  As he gazed around him he realized that he had no idea of how far he was from either the Grunito house or the Tornesal townhouse. During the carriage ride to the Goldenrod he had been packed between Javier and Elezar and had seen nothing of the streets they traversed.

  The black masses of buildings that rose up against the dark skyline offered him no hint of even their architecture. Yellow firelight illuminated many of the windows. He could make out the figures of women coming and going. Just across the street, a door opened and lamp light flared out. Kiram saw the silhouettes of men, staggering and laughing as they entered another brothel. Their merriment augmented his sick misery.

  Only a day ago Rafie had warned that he might come to regret staying with Javier, and already Kiram suspected that his uncle had been right. His thoughts slurred with the white ruin and suddenly Kiram found himself reminiscing about Musni. He’d be married by now. Would it have been any easier to see Musni wed than to watch Javier with some drunk whore?