by Keep, J. E.
She didn’t want to kill these people. She didn’t want to be responsible for their deaths, but she would do it. She believed in her God. She believed in Kulav. She knew there would be peace and prosperity that Ariste had never known before, welcoming in a new era of strength and devotion, rather than catering to the whims of the affluent.
And people would die because of it. Because of her.
“There’s much I need to do,” Mirella finally whispered, her vocal cords taut. “Thank you for your kindness.”
The man nodded and guided her back to the door, “I understand. We all have much to give so that we might live like people again,” he said. “Gods speed you, brave maid,” he said, snuffing out the candle before opening the door and releasing her back into the night.
Tears fell, and she did nothing to stop them. She’d been so brave and confident, ever since he’d left, yet every time she met with an Aristean, she left with tears. She mourned for them, for their insolence and for their stubbornness, but by the time she reached the Concubine-Warrior’s tent once more, her green eyes were hard once more.
The attack came in the middle of the night as Mirella predicted. They came through a gap in the wall that the quake had indeed created, though since the Raven Guard had sealed it up immediately in their immense discipline, she had to have it ordered reopened just for the trap.
From the palace parapets she watched with her sisters as the rebels advanced through the gardens. When she gave the order a blood curdling cry went up through her fellow sisters, they rose with bows at the ready as she’d intended and the rebels froze or ran for cover with futility. All the exits were blocked, and shield-maidens stood at the hole they came through with spears pointed at them.
It was over.
“People of Ariste,” she declared loudly, her voice carrying over the rebels. The working class. The poor. The downtrodden.
The nobles’ pawns, just like she.
“Your city has been taken, and will continue to be that way. As I speak, the nobles are being wiped out. There is no hope for them, but there is hope for you! I know it doesn’t matter to you who you serve. One hand is as good as another, and I promise you. Fight for us. Fight for your future, and you will be rewarded.”
She paused for a brief moment, “Food is scarce. Times are hard, but we can work together to make Ariste better. The Northerners lack agriculture, but you thrive at it. Stop fighting us so that we may work together, to rid us of our noble lords and their cruelties. Ariste can be yours. Truly yours,” Mirella finished, her stance, her voice, so utterly certain. She believed what she was saying.
There was silence for a while and she felt her sisters grow anxious. They were used to fighting and killing, not to negotiation. When things had gotten tense and she feared it was hopeless one of the Aristean rebels rose up and the recognized the voice from the aqueduct. “We surrender. Our families need food. That is why we’re here. There is no point in dying for anything less,” he stated, sounding glum but resilient yet.
She was so thankful for that one man, for that one voice, and she nodded. “I grew up hungry, without food. Sold from one family to another before I was finally brought here, and I remember it too well. You have suffered long, but I will help you become strong again,” Mirella said, her voice dipping at the personal nature of her disclosure.
There were no cheers this time. Her sisters did not understand her leniency but obeyed it, for she was respected now, and the rebels below were too battered, too desperate and broken to cheer such words. All they could do was wait.
Chapter 19
Svella returned to Mirella the next morning, “The job is done, sister.” She sounded so proud, the woman already looking more like the battle-hardened warrior she was before conceiving the God-King’s child. “The noble leaders were wiped out,” she declared with a slam of her fist on the table. “Damn it feels good to be back in action!” Mirella knew just how much it had troubled her that the giant of a woman had missed so much of the fight already.
She laughed, and for the first time in many days, she truly felt it reverberate through her. “I’m sure there will be more before he returns. Has there been any news?” she asked, that hope creeping into her voice. “What of the Seer?”
She wanted to ask what was her price. What had she paid for this? She resisted, though.
At that query the mighty Svella lost her spirit. “No further news, though the violence seems to be dying down now,” she explained. “And no, the Seer has not moved of her own accord since, I’m afraid.” It troubled her, for the Seer was a unifying force for the Raven Guard.
~~
The rebellion was quelled and the city returned to some form of peace following Mirella’s trap. However time dragged. She grew more and more swollen with her impending birth, and no news had arrived.
She’d spoken to the princess, told her the prince was reported dead though she had no actual word of what happened on the other side of the mountains. It confirmed it for her though, for the princess broke down into tears and sobbed about how she hadn’t heard from him since the week the attack should’ve happened.
So Kulav had succeeded on the field of battle. Just as she knew in her heart and as the Seer had said.
It had been useless talking to the delicate princess after that. She was a wreck, and would, with any luck, be ready for the God-King’s return.
It was as Mirella relaxed one day, the weight of her pregnancy exhausting her, that the excited Nimala burst in on her talking with Svella. “He’s coming!” She cried. “The God-King is returning from the west reaches of the mountains!”
“What?” she gasped, trying to stand far faster than her body would allow, sending her off balance for a moment, “When will he be here?” she asked, and already she was moving as if she could see him. Her heart fluttered, and excitement buzzed under her flesh.
They emerged out into the cool morning air, Nimala talking excitedly, “The outriders reported seeing his banners just hours behind them!” She said, a great smile on her face. “He’s coming back to us,” she murmured in a dreamy voice, and Mirella realized then this sister hadn’t had her opportunity to meet him before he went on his expedition.
Mirella smiled, as if her life had suddenly brightened. Become worth living once more, and she reached out to stroke Nimala’s hand. “As we knew he would, sister.” Her hand ran over her stomach, reassuring the child that stirred within.
Chapter 20
When the God-King’s forces returned at last, after being gone for months, the whole of the remaining guard were out in force in their full battle regalia. Horns sounded that echoed off the mountains and his banners fluttered from almost every building top. It was as glorious a return for the conqueror as she could muster, and she watched from the palace walls as his horse and following riders wound up through the city towards him.
When at last he led the way into the palace courtyard he looked as glorious as she remembered him. His armour seemed nicked and more worn, but he looked as stunning as ever. Those great raven plumes swaying in the air as he rode directly to her with confidence. She saw that grin on his face even before he slipped his helm free. He was back. Back for her.
Her movement was slower, her body nearly ready to burst with the heavy weight of his child, but that smile she gave him was nothing but radiant. Her love shone through, and that space she’d tucked aside, that deep loneliness was edged away.
As she moved through the palace walls, down and towards the courtyard, her heart swelled, and when at last her hands grazed him, her throat constricted. “Your Greatness,” she breathed out.
The mighty warlord put an arm around her pregnant form and with great strength and care scooped her up against him, kissing her before all the assembled soldiers. It was a deep and passionate embrace, and she knew that her longing hadn’t been one-sided. A well of intense desire was bubbling forth from him as that dark man kissed her deeply and stole her breath.
When at last he
broke their embrace he gave her a grin, slipping his dark gaze down over her swollen belly with intense pleasure. “Go. Run me a bath,” he commanded. “Bring a tray of fresh meats and a scrub brush, you shall tell me everything.”
Even though he’d made her swoon, she found a great pleasure in doing his bidding. Her almond shaped eyes gazed at him for only a moment before her feet found the ground and she was moving back through the castle. Excitement carried her and made her feel lighter on her feet, despite her advanced pregnancy, and she could already feel that familiar heat between her legs.
He was home.
Chapter 21
The tub which she set for him was formerly that of the royal family. It was heated from some vein of molten rock within the mountain itself, and the massive pool—for it was far too large to be a tub—was fit for a God. He reclined in the steamy water, his gorgeous physique, so brimming with hard muscle etched in perfect, detailed lines, standing out so prominently to her as she sat on the edge, scrubbing over his shoulder.
“You have done well,” he said in a husky groan, enjoying her touch, his long dark hair draped down his back as he rested an arm up around her. “You took control of a chaotic situation and kept the city under control. I don’t know if the Raven Guard could have managed that without you,” he said with a light, placid smile.
“I couldn’t allow you to come home to disarray, Your Greatness. Not after all the work you’d done,” her nose nuzzled him, that lovely olive skin brushing against his ebon flesh. “You deserve a bit of peace and relaxation after the battle. The Princess is aware of the Prince’s demise. I pray she is in a more malleable mood with the loss of her forces.”
All she wore was the scandalous mix of silver chains and transparent fabric. He scooped her up, taking control of her with such ease as he pulled her into the steaming water with him. He let it soak her meagre things as she was pressed to his lap, feeling that godlike manhood against her as he kissed her hard. “You have served me well,” he said, brushing her dark hair from her face and eying her with such desire and appreciation. “You were faithful when you could have turned against me and perhaps shifted the tide.”
It hadn’t even occurred to her, and her mouth found his throat, her body so eager against him. She was his, body, mind, and soul, and her arms wrapped around him, that pregnant orb pressing into his hard abs. “I mean every word I say to you, Your Greatness. You are the reason I exist. You are the tide, the spring rain. The one all should worship,” her mouth ran along his jaw. “We will have crops this year, and it is because of your graciousness. I offered them a stay of execution, but you are the reason they will live. Our lives, our future. We entrust these things to you. It’s only fair we mind them when you’re gone.”
It wasn’t the way of the Ka’reem to offer mercy or forgiveness. They knew nothing of farming, only hunting and tending animals. But he did not question her decisions while he was away, only offered his quiet acceptance.
And his throbbing desire.
Squeezing her in his powerful arms, those hard muscles jabbing into her all around, he was careful of the life in her womb, suckling her lip as he probed her mouth with his tongue. A hand came to one of her large breasts, squeezing the full mound, so tender with its milk.
There was such need in him, and he lifted her, rising up onto his knees in the steamy pool, turning her away from him and placing her hands on the edge of the stonework so that she bent forward. Feeling his dark hands run up her arms and over her full form was such bliss, and he felt out every inch of her, as if rediscovering her at last.
She didn’t quiet those moans, the sighs of pleasure and joy at his battle hardened hands, her body quivering against him. She wanted this, and had spent the long months of his absence craving him. Needing him.
Never had it occurred to her to bed with someone else, nor even to pleasure herself in the dark of night. It wouldn’t be the same, and how wet she was, even as the water tried to lap it away, attested to her built up desire.
“Your Greatness,” she whimpered. “I missed you.”
One of his fingers hooked into her flimsy undergarment, pulling it aside to reveal her puffy, darkened folds. She felt one of his arms hook up in under her chest, his hand palming one of her large tits, squeezing as she felt that bulging thickness press to her.
So sweet were his dark, gravely words in her ear, “I thought of you often when need shook me,” and she knew it was true. He was above false compliments; he didn’t need such things with her.
Pushing into her she felt that massive cock, so far beyond any other man’s, pry her folds open again. Though he had never been able to fit his full length inside her, even less fit now as her full womb pushed down, yet it didn’t keep him from moaning with his own satisfaction at that tight cling.
She’d been so faithful to him, and yet she was surprised by how much it enhanced the experience. She almost felt like a virgin once more, untouched and innocent, even as she swelled with his child. Her moan was one beyond any other sweetness, beyond pain or simplistic, animalistic pleasure. It was love and devotion, bliss beyond understanding, and her hands gripped the edge of the bath.
“Every night, you were the first thing I dreamed of. Every morning, you were the first thing I saw. I knew you would make it home before your child was born,” she said.
It was wrong in the eyes of her sisters to spill the God-King’s seed fruitlessly in an already pregnant womb, but it didn’t stop either of them from doing so and enjoying it. His hand grasped her teat, squeezing so delightfully, the other moving down over her generous hip and ass as he began to pump his godlike length into her.
He was so gentle for a man of his size and with his need, careful of the life within her, but still that throbbing dick beat into her with a fast increasing pace. His husky voice such a delight on her ear as it groaned each word out, “None of the young ones can hold a candle to your devoted lust. To your beautiful form,” he bit her neck then, inhaling deeply through his nose as he stifled his moans on her flesh.
She whimpered with her need, and his words made her cunny tighten around him, those muscles massaging him so lovingly. She swallowed against his mouth, against the feel of that warm, heated breath over her olive flesh, and she knew she was in heaven.
She’d been waiting so long for just this, to be his once more, and it felt so right to have his body pressed against hers so tightly. Mirella fought back an overwhelming urge to cry his name, to tell him all she’d done, all she wanted to do just to have him back. Of the fear when the mountain collapsed, of that sense of failure and worry, but she didn’t.
All she did was cry out his name, his true name, in a husky, lust ridden voice, following it up with “Your Greatness.” The words—his name, his title—were one in the same. He was born of a woman, but that didn’t lessen who he was. What he was.
He came in her then, clenching her tit and bucking his hips. Kulav, the God-King, spilled his seed within her fruitlessly, but so satisfyingly. His pleasure was thick on the air, and she knew she brought him such joy. More even than the pristine young virgins he took, her mature form, so ripe with his child, milked him of his essence and made him shake with satisfaction.
It didn’t stop though, his long absence drove him on and he pumped his shaft into her without pause. She knew it wouldn’t end then, or soon. He had to have her again. Again.
Chapter 22
The God-King’s return went fluidly. He never showed the slightest displeasure with her choices while gone, did not countermand a single one of them. He went about revitalizing his forces and getting the city into shape.
“From the north we’ll bring in our remaining herds,” he explained to the chieftains gathered around his command table, pointing to a map. “We need the extra meat and cheese to help feed the citizens as best we can.”
Mirella was kept with him at nearly all times now. Nothing was kept from her, she’d proven her worth. Though as he spoke she felt it happen. Her water broke
and pregnancy was upon her at last.
She thought back, for that brief, surprised second, and what she’d said to Svella those weeks ago.
Finally.
Her grin broadened and she felt no shame for being in such a delicate position near such powerful men. Instead she touched her God’s arm, and as he turned to her, giving her his attention immediately, he seemed to understand everything with just the look on her face.
Chapter 23
The pregnancy had been hard. If ever she doubted Svella’s hard time—which of course she hadn’t—that was put to rest when she birthed yet another son for her God and King.
Kulav had kept near her much of the time in the week following her birth, and she saw the light glimmer of pride in her and his new son as she cradled the boy. He kissed her head and looked to the child against her bosom, so dark. His skin, though so fresh and new, nearly matched that of his fathers. He was far more like Kulav than Svella’s child had been, that woman’s pale northern skin having diluted his tone.
Mirella had been lucky enough to have known bliss before, but that completion of her family, that natural process of creating something from both of them was different. She knew how pleased he was, and she’d always wanted a child. She had tried to push it aside as it grew less likely, but now that it was finally a reality, she let herself feel true joy.
“He looks like you,” she murmured, that sleepy, happy daze making her eyes look lustier.
With a soft kiss to her forehead, the powerful Kulav stroked her hair tenderly. “You will name him Kulav’ar,” he said firmly, for though it was tradition for the Ka’reem women to name their children, his mind was set. “It means Son of Kulav,” he explained, and the significance of such a thing was not lost. How could it be? For though he had seeded many women—all of the Raven Guard and many more—none of the children had he claimed his own in any manner.
