Rogue Within

by Mima

  He stayed still while she walked around in front of him. Now her hair was disheveled and her face was pale, but it didn’t satisfy him. He hadn’t wanted to ruin the confident woman. His Princess was something to be proud of. But her disrespect of him had been a shock, and one he was incapable of ignoring. She held her breath, blinking at him. He inclined his head, accepting her apology.

  Her shoulders leveled out. “Never kiss Avis again.”

  He nodded. He’d forgotten how uncomfortable it was to bend down to short women.

  “I thought you wouldn’t mind taking care of me, that you would give me the quick fuck, like … like handing me a towel as I rose from the bath. I’m sorry.”

  He focused on steadying his breathing, on not reaching for her.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered again. “I was not indulging in a whim. This is a real need, a real fear of mine. But I do not want you to go off to battle with this anger between us. I love you, Donte.”

  He stepped up and grabbed her to him, burying his nose in the revealed space behind her ear. Stringent. His Bonded. “I hit your sister. Will they imprison me? I don’t have time for that. How many lashes would such a penalty be instead?”

  She sighed. “I’m not sure. Akisa has the Queen’s ear. You should try not to hit Royalty.” Her hands rubbed up and down his arms briskly. “Well, at least I don’t have to worry about you being able to take punishment.”

  Stepping back, she touched a finger to his lips. “Come home to me.”

  “I make no promises I cannot keep. But I want to.” The Six may try to keep him away, but he’d fight. As always.

  She turned and went off with Avis, who never lifted her gaze off the cobbles. He felt worse about forcing the kiss on her than smacking the sister.

  He frowned until the guard the Queen had agreed to assign her hustled past. That was more like it. Eventually, he found the main guardhouse. He met Fergmar, Captain of Security, and Leon, Captain of the Queen’s Own. He could tell in moments the two humans were excellent warriors, experienced and tested. There were two martens there as well, but not the strange smelling one from yesterday. They all sat down and began to bring him clarity about the current state of the City. Thankfully, they had food.

  He ate while he took in everything, the riot yesterday at the Main Gate, the near riot at the Queen’s Gate. The Mage Guild was falling today, with the mountaincats. It was a massive undertaking full of spiritmages forcing souldances, and the tasting of blood to burrow past the masking. It was also going room by room, in their territory, finding all those darkmages who merely hid inside. The Queen wanted the Temple cleared next and they agreed that the distraction of the battle of the Mage Guild would be as clear as the Temple would get.

  They showed him a map of all three known levels below ground and the two above ground. They showed him the beginnings of armor the Queen was having built for him, and couldn’t help but laugh. The martens did too, before they remembered themselves and stopped.

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “It’s shiny. I’d be like the moon at night.”

  Leon nodded. “This is her design and she’s no warrior. We’ll have to darken the metal, and abrade it so there is no polish—”

  “No.” Donte fingered the slick metal plates lining the leather arms. “Never mind. It’s fine. I forgot for a moment I’m not hiding anymore.”

  The room got quiet.

  He nodded at their understanding. “I am bait as much as hunter. I would like to take down as many as I can, however, so waiting for the cats to take out the Mages this afternoon doesn’t suit me. Let’s warm up with a battle before the Temple. Where should we start and where do we go after the Temple has been cleared?”

  “I have a plan to clear the nearest areas around each of the five City Gates,” the more slender marten said.

  “That’s an idea,” stated Leon, “but I’d prefer to clear all the areas touching the compound wall. I’m very worried about what darkmages could be doing hidden in buildings with access to the ancient Wall craft.”

  “No,” Fergmar sighed, drinking his tea. “We need to hold the Guilds. We should work down through all the largest Guilds first.”

  The argument commenced, so Donte sat back, studying his maps while his breakfast digested. Soon, he’d rise and kill.

  After Fergmar’s plan won out, Donte tried on the armor. It was, of course, too small, constraining his movement. The armorer fussed and then lent him a temporary pair of sturdy chaps and a thick jerkin, studded with terrific spikes front and back. Arm braces lashed to his forearms gave him basic fighting protection.

  They offered him weapons. He thought of his claws. Concentrated, pulled and picked at the grinding hollowness from Bear, and his claws shot from his fingertips in five perfect strikes of pain. He held his breath, but the moment passed. Bear remained inert.

  “Ready,” he said grimly. Moriko’s words echoed in his skull. If you’re alive, he’s alive. We’ll get him back.

  He met the six-man team who would travel with him. The two martens—a skymage and watermage respectively to complement him—and four humans. The gate opened while he scented the stench of rotting flesh above. He walked from the shadows into the morning light. The first people who saw him, clustered with baskets of supplies in the street before the Gate, screamed.

  He clacked his claws and walked on.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Avis never worked so hard for Moriko as she did that day. Moriko hadn’t seen the woman’s eyes since that morning, but it was more how busy they were than any lingering shame from Donte’s kiss. Probably. They did an entire day’s schedule in the morning, to catch up from yesterday. She was greeted with more caution by some, more respect from others, and still wove through some contempt.

  At her third appointment, she could tell when Akisa’s network had kicked in. The mutters about Donte as an outcast even among his own kind slung round her, slicing at her heart. One of the whisperers got too close.

  “—marks on his face weren’t there when he arrived. They hate him so much that—”

  Moriko lunged forward and slammed the woman’s shoulder with her hand. “Shut your vicious mouth, Ahndi.”

  Gasps of horror and delight flew through the busy street, as everyone near paused.

  Ahndi staggered and whirled, clearly shocked Moriko stood there, fists clenched.

  Pointing one dagger finger down the alley toward the city gate, Moriko shouted in the woman’s face, loud and clear for benefit of the crowd. “You dare bite and nip about his past when he is out there risking his life this very moment!” Rage held her prisoner. “Guards!”

  Her friendly shadow, named Tok, hurried forward.

  “Escort this woman out of the compound. She leaves with the clothes on her back.”

  She shook her short black curls, eyes wide. “No, Moriko.”

  “That would be ‘Yes, Princess’.” Ahndi worked in the gardens, as an herb drier. Moriko had spoken to her a few times about mundane things. No doubt she’d been born into the Chatelaine’s Guild, lived here all her life. Last she knew, the woman wasn’t married, but Moriko didn’t care. “Maybe a night on the streets among the darkmages will make you more grateful for the safety Donte has given us all!”

  Ahndi burst into tears and Tok put his arm around her gently. Even he looked surprised.

  Moriko spun on her heel to stare at the goggle-eyed faces. “Do I have to make you get on your knees when I pass by in order to silence your endlessly swinging tongues! Shall you remember I am the Queen’s niece for one moment so that I may not have to listen to your snickering torment?”

  Everyone stayed frozen except a child who dove behind his mother. Now she was frightening children. Moriko kicked at a nearby bucket of water, frightened of herself. Stomping had never felt so good. She clomped around the corner, enjoying how they melted away from her.

  When she threw herself into the cannery, Von-wu looked up, surprised. “Such a temper! Have
they been whispering about the Queen again?”

  Moriko shook her head. “No. This time it is my husband.”

  Von-wu straightened up in her chair, her lined face softening with kindness. “Ah, Moriko. Even I hate this place sometimes.”

  She clasped her arms around her middle. “May I use your back room?”

  Von-wu looked around at her two assistants, both young ladies. “None of my handsome grandsons are here today.”

  “I won’t need them.”

  Von-wu shrugged. “Of course you may go in, Moriko.” She reached for another crockery jar.

  Moriko slammed the door. Then she slammed it again. Then she took her shoe off and threw it at the door. Her nipples throbbed and her clit sang. Bracing her hands against the wall, she tried to calm her racing heart. But she knew that right now, in the street, they were laughing at her, carping how unfair she was to Ahndi. Akisa and her horrible almost-truths always, always won.

  Plunking herself onto the low stool, she stared around the workroom blindly. Neat rows of shelves were full of waiting jars. She’d never seen it so neat, actually. Because there was no extra food to can. Everything that was coming in or being harvested was going directly to the kitchens. Because the darkmages had disrupted the Cities’ supplies.

  Oh Earthmother, the stress. The anger, the fear. Her skin twitched.

  Looking around the room, she studied all the things lying about as sexual possibilities. Nothing looked promising. From her pouch on her girdle, she took the hairbrush. Feeling like an idiot, she lifted her skirt, pulled off her underwear, stirred the handle through her folds… And felt nothing. No spark of eagerness, no naughty thrill.

  She beat the bristles against her knee in frustration. Then paused. Her knee sizzled, prickling. Slowly, she pulled her skirts up her thighs, baring her smooth legs. Dragging the brush down one shin, she assessed the feeling. Dragging it up one thigh a little harder made her shiver. Using her first two fingers, she opened her private skin. Lowering the brush to her folds, she pressed the bristles into the soft tenderness. They bit and stung.

  She paused. A short stroke caused her to choke in pain. All right, no dragging movements here. Pulling it away, she repositioned it and pressed it to herself again. Yes, a thousand nips spread across her entire valley. Her shoulders eased, her urgency fading. She took the brush and put it back in her pouch, put her underwear and shoe back on, and enjoyed the chafing she felt between her legs.

  She left the room. Avis now joined in the staring. “What?”

  “Do you need me to send a message for you?” Avis nervously turned a pencil.

  “No. I’m fine. That was all the break I needed.”

  Avis craned her neck to see into the room.

  “There’s no one there. What? Must I be so predictable?”

  Avis nodded, then realized she was insulting her and shook her head urgently.

  Moriko laughed. “What news?”

  “The Queen has called for a Royal gathering.”

  “Now?” Moriko boggled. Usually a message was sent to her so she could ready the room.

  “Now. It is in regards to … the new laundry master.”

  Ah. How strange that three days ago, Silva had attacked her.

  “I must race to my room and change.” She curtsied to Von-wu. “Ma’am, I’m sorry we did not get to our weekly visit. Is there anything you require?”

  The matron shook her head. “We are well here. Aside from things being slow, as you know, we prepare for when they improve. Go, dear.”

  Moriko nodded and left. “Any news about my outburst?”

  “Ahndi was taken out of the gate, crying. She’s still standing there, crying.” Avis glanced at Moriko as they hurried through the streets. “Will she really remain outside all night?”

  Moriko just gave the optimist a quelling look. “Go on to the stone mason and see how the work is coming on the laundry repairs. It will be good to have current news for whoever is appointed.”

  Avis peeled away and Moriko ran to her room. Dressing in a frenzy in a deep orange tunic with an overlay of embroidered cream, she checked her face and hair then hurried to the entrance to the main hall.

  Avis hovered. “The laundry will need one more day and needs testing before it can be filled with boiling water. Ahndi’s mother has joined her and is shouting she will face death with her daughter and that you are a vindictive bitch. The guard is taking her away.”

  Moriko nodded. “Thank you. You should get lunch now. With this delay, our schedule will have to be adjusted.” Lifting her chin, she entered the large room.

  The Royals near her greeted her, but then quickly looked away. She saw why when she came to the middle of the room. Akisa stood before the Queen, her head wrapped in a dramatic turban of white gauze. She was dressed in Royal blue, the deep cerulean Moriko associated with her grandmother, Idivay’s mother, who wore it every day as a mark of being the maternal force behind the Queen. For once, Akisa was not yelling. Then again, the bandage said it all for her. Moriko had to move quite close before she could hear her.

  Mother stood on the floor off to Akisa’s side. Moriko went up to her. Mother turned with a frozen face, eyes like ice. “You will cost your sister the throne, mark my words.”

  For the first few months after Akisa had been named Heiress, her Mother’s snapping, belittling, and open favoritism had stung. Then it had only ached, and finally Moriko had remembered that she was a woman in her own right. She no longer allowed her Mother’s digs to pass. “Only Akisa can cost herself the throne. It is the Queen’s decision.”

  Akisa rambled on in elegant formal language about the sanctity of the Royal family, their long history of service, and their traditions of respect.

  Shebu floated onto the dais and bent to the Queen’s ear, then faded back.

  “Thank you, Akisa, that will be enough. Please hand me my token.”

  Every Royal in the room held their breath.

  “Your token, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes. My token. Give it to me.”

  Akisa slid her ring off and held it out with a low curtsy.

  The Queen leaned forward and took it. “You are no longer an Heiress.”

  Akisa was not the first of the chosen to be stripped of that status. She knew better, but still she said, “A thousand pardons, Aunt. How have I failed you?”

  “You never failed me, Akisa. I needed a cold, manipulative foil to stir the Court so that I could see the ways my Heirs and Heiresses responded. You were never a true Heiress, and the time for games is done when life is this dark.”

  Moriko heard her mother’s moan and put her arm around her waist. Her mother leaned into her.

  Akisa stood frozen, so beautiful, her ruby hair a coronet of curls today. “Your Majesty, I have always loved you.”

  “You have and for that I will not whip you when I should. Even though you were ever ridiculous in your pride, you never worked against me.”

  Gasps and whispers rang out around the room.

  The Queen stood and they all shut off. “I made it entirely clear over the last two days. The Bear Donte is to have all Our support. I repeated myself several times and I married him to Our Chatelaine, the keeper who has kept us well all these many years. Short of giving him my own daughter, who is too young, I could not have shown him more favor. And yet this morning I find he’s been driven into an altercation with you upon leaving his bath.”

  The Queen stepped down off her throne’s pedestal and walked up to Akisa. Then she shouted in her face. “Before he left my home to do battle with evil, he had to battle my family!” She jabbed her staff into the stage with a resounding boom. “Get on your knees!”

  The whole room knelt. Moriko knew just how the woman felt. She trembled inside, so grateful to Idivay tears pinched her eyes.

  “Your M-m-majesty—”

  “Silence.” The Queen bit the word off with complete control. “I am issuing a decree. The Bear Donte is mine. All whispers about his statu
s, his scars, his tattoos, and his marriage will cease. This moment. Do you know why? Because I do not care. I do not care if the man murdered his mother, if he eats with his toes, if he wants to dye his hair purple. He is Our Executioner and will always have a home with me. Can I be any clearer?”

  Wisely, there wasn’t a sound. When the Queen descended to sarcasm, people usually got whipped.

  “Dismissed. All of you. Moriko, come to me.”

  Swallowing, Moriko squeezed her mother, stood and firmed her knees, then went to the stairs. She paused, keeping her gaze on the mosaic floor as Akisa passed. Hurrying up the stairs, she curtsied before the Queen. The hall was emptying rapidly, but the whispers were low and fast, and there were still people close enough to hear.

  “You cannot keep throwing our people into the City or soon Our Guild will be empty.”

  “I am sorry, Your Majesty. I will cease at once.”

  “I have done what I can to protect him.”

  Moriko thought of the heads she’d gone to see on the wall today and disagreed. Such a provocation would not help Donte.

  “You must not keep problems between him and our subjects quiet. Deal with what you can on your own, but if it is serious, tell Us immediately. While he may fall to darkmages, he will be comfortable here.”

  She curtsied again. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Donte would not fall to darkmages. It wasn’t possible.

  The Queen leaned forward. “And that goes for when you are no longer Chatelaine, as well. I’m sure when you are replaced, people will think it safe to attack you, and they will be wrong. Mark me, Moriko.”

  “I am ever the Queen’s servant.” She knelt because she wanted to. The Queen was ruthless and truly a sovereign to admire.

  “You are too soft, dear. This is why Silva thought he could play you, because when he tested you, you danced with him instead of destroying him. You have discovered brutality, but too late.” Louder, she called, “Bring Silva.”

  Moriko stood while the older man, the bane of her daily schedule, was stripped. She stood, flinching only that first time, while he was whipped a dozen times. When he collapsed after the fourth stroke, they continued while he lay on the ground. Then they carried him away.