by Hurri Cosmo
Diagus dragged his eyes from the shocked Joron and back to Aric. "You're not holding up your end of the deal yet, Tamusi. Even I shouldn't be able to get that close." He shot a look of lust back at Joron, turned on his heel, and after shouting out instructions to the guards still holding their prisoners, he headed in the direction of the main castle.
Aric pulled Joron close and headed toward the servants quarters. Once it was dark enough, they would leave out the side servant's door. Until then they would lay low, surrounded by Blade Rain castle servants. Aric cringed at the thought of having to rely on Blade Rain personnel. He'd escaped the king viper, but he was not even close to being out of the snake pit.
Chapter 5
The news King Aric was in Blade Rain reached the queen far later than she thought news of that caliber should have. She quickly called for her attendants and then, as quickly, sent for the man himself. So thrilled to have another chance with the man, she thought of nothing else. The death she planned for that little slut, Joron, would simply have to wait. She had yet to hear from her men. She told them it was fine to take their pleasure in him, whether it was beating the boy or raping him, she didn't care. She only wanted to make sure she was able to look into those eyes in his last moments. But Aric had arrived again and there could only be one reason.
He had finally come to his stupid man senses and had come for her.
But, of course, even she had to know it might not actually be the reason. There was some possibility he might truly be here to collect Joron or possibly her daughter. She had heard Liarta eloped, so she was no longer here for him to take. Plus, she had taken care of the problem Joron might have been, too. He would not have Joron as a choice any longer either. If he was on the move to claim a sex partner, he could do absolutely no better than the queen of Blade Rain. She would explain it all, as soon as the man made it up to her rooms.
Her servants tripped over themselves to be the first ones out the door, presumably to get to Aric and not out of any real loyalty to her. That was fine. They all still thought he was available. They all thought he still might be on the hunt for the servant he had been searching for the last time he was here. She had gone to him that night, thinking all he was truly looking for was someone to bed. She figured he would be shocked she came to him when her dead husband still lay in state in the throne room. She had been the one shocked, though, when he turned her away. She couldn't understand at all what a servant had that she didn't. A servant. Ha. Well, he needed no one. No one other than her. She would prove it if he only gave her an hour. Only one hour.
She hurried to ready herself. She didn't want to wash away all of her womanly aromas, but she wanted to look her absolute best when he walked into her private quarters. She presumed she had a few minutes. The only thing she had to decide was whether or not she was sexier covered or if she met the man at the door naked and ready.
Choices, choices, choices. She had certainly come a long way.
Betrothed from birth, Erora had never had any other path in life than to marry the Crown Prince of Blade Rain. She didn't love him. He didn't love her. It was simply a marriage of houses, to strengthen the royal house of Amar. From the first moment she could remember, she had been groomed to be the wife of a king. It happened all the time, marriages of convenience. They were always about money or power or land, or some combination of the three. Love was never a factor. It was no different in her case, except there was also the small detail of preventing an all-out war--something the betrothal did.
But things didn't always work out the way they were planned. Sometimes circumstances, coincidences, and sheer luck led to clandestine meetings and rendezvous. Sometimes the heart had its own agenda, and it did not listen to protocol and commitments it could not begin to understand or accept. Erora fell into such a situation. Though she was promised to another, though her future was set in unshed blood, her heart decided otherwise. Thankfully she understood the simple fact her virginal blood needed to be on the wedding sheets. Thankfully her wits--she was extremely intelligent for a woman--stayed about her enough for her to realize she needed to wait until after the wedding night to consummate her love for her lover. Her upbringing did teach her one thing--money and power were more important than any affair of the heart.
So she married King Oxys, though she was most definitely in love with another man. But she had understood from childhood that the king would have his concubines, his harem. The only obligation she had to her husband, the throne, and the kingdom, was to bear an heir. What she did beyond that, as long as she was discreet, would highly be unlikely anyone would care. So immediately after the wedding, after the virginal blood was presented, she took her lover.
It was too bad her secret lover was rather an important and recognizable man. In fact, he was Mormir, Duke of Stone Mire. It made it a lot more difficult to be inconspicuous. But they both understood and held fast to their mutual commitment to the crown.
However, she became pregnant a lot sooner than she expected to, and not by the king.
She knew what it took to get pregnant and also knew how to prevent it, but she'd become careless. The problem was, she'd truly learned to love sex--the act of it, the pleasure of it, the smell and taste of it. She loved every messy thing about it. She also liked control, and if she dared, she liked to use pain as well. But it was something she had to save for the young castle boys she could lure to her chambers, because neither her lover nor the king tolerated any of it. In fact, the king made it clear the only reason he came to her bed at all was his duty to the kingdom and his crown. He did not like the "husband's obligation" with her. She didn't understand it. She was beautiful, desirable, and extremely talented as well. But for some reason, the king had no interest whatsoever. It saddened her, but it didn't stop her from taking her pleasure nonetheless. Erora was a very selfish woman and sex was at the top of her list.
So she made sure every time the king did come to her bed, she took the herb to prevent pregnancy. Unfortunately, he simply wanted to release his seed into her, often times leaving her unsatisfied.
But she was used to that as well. She simply handled it herself. With his fevered pounding, even in the missionary position, she still became excited and wound up, enough so that later--when she allowed herself release--they were some of her most powerful orgasms. So having him come to her as often as possible was very attractive, although he himself was not. Becoming pregnant now would make that unnecessary
Besides, having the king in your bed did have its privileges. Erora cashed in on every one of them.
But being less knowledgeable about what being in love could do, she was unprepared with her lover. They played with fire right from the beginning, with all of the sneaking around and doing it without the protection she had so painstakingly learned by heart. They constantly lost themselves in the throes of passion. Afterward, every time, she would mentally kick herself and hold her breath, hoping once again she would get away with it. She would pray her monthly would come and all would be right with the world. But finally, of course, it happened.
The king had no knowledge at all she took an herb to prevent her from letting his seed take root, but her lover did. The only other one with such knowledge was the old witch who provided the herb to her. She was a scheming and devious old woman, too, who promised to create trouble for her once she guessed the queen was with child. She was, after all, loyal to the crown--or so she said. What she was, was calculating. She simply saw a means of support for the rest of her days which, of course, ended up being a lot fewer than the old witch expected, thanks to a moonless night, a dark, overlarge cloak, and a well concealed knife.
Erora then turned her thoughts to the reaction of her lover, once he found out. Would he come for her immediately and whisk her away to live happily ever after, far from the dark walls of Castle Blade Rain or would he stay quietly proud that the son he fathered would sit on the throne? Then, of course, she was concerned about whether or not she truly carried a male child.
If indeed it was a son, he would be the king of the land, once the present king was dead and buried. The irony was not lost on her that it would not be of the king's bloodline at all and there would be nothing the fool could do about it. But if it was a girl, she would be given a second chance at producing the true heir. At the time, she still did have a conscience, a few scruples that had not been torn and stomped on and turned into something ugly. Not yet anyway.
But it would come--and in two ways.
First it came in the form of her lover's betrayal.
Mormir had obligations, which was something she understood, because she did as well. He was a powerful man in his own right, which had always been a huge attraction, and she knew he intended to use his relationship with her to obtain better deals directly from the throne. Why not? Power was power. But she had no idea his ambitions entailed control of the pass. It had been a slow recognition and once she grasped it, her immaturity didn't allow for her to accept it. He was her lover and she thought--in her total inability at the time to comprehend treachery and deceit--he truly was in love with her as well.
But he was not. He had an agenda, as did all men. It was subtle at first, a mention or two of how she could bring a small amount of gold and silver each visit she made--not much, nothing noticeable, keep it simple. It was, after all, for their future together. Or at the many royal banquets Blade Rain castle would have, his chair moved up, much closer to the king. Oxys never noticed but others did, and, of course, that was the point.
But his greed grew, and as soon as he learned she was pregnant with his child, he became ravenous and insatiable--and not for her. She soon was risking her very life with how much he wanted from her status as queen. But her lover didn't seem to care about her plight. In fact, that was when it turned into blackmail and her world started to crumble.
What he didn't understand--what he didn't comprehend--was that she had done everything out of love for him. She loved him, but he didn't love her. He only loved that she was the queen. Again, something she thought she could put up with.
But then she saw him in bed with another woman. There he was, rolling around with her, spouting how much he loved her. "What about the queen?" the bitch had cooed.
"I've done as you said, my love. She is putty in my hands," he had murmured back. "She'll do anything I ask."
"Good. Then the plan is almost set."
Erora had no idea what the "plan" was, but it didn't matter. Her heart was crushed. The man she believed loved her, obviously did not. She had risked everything for him and he was laughing behind her back with some ugly peasant trollop who wasn't worth spitting on much less the silver it took to have her skinned alive and left for the wicked hungry creatures in Raven Bog. Oh yes, Erora was livid enough to commit murder. Slow murder. Painful murder.
But even that kind of death was not good enough for Mormir. She wanted to see his suffering.
Before she had done away with the herb witch, she had learned a thing or two about many useful things--seduction, torture, relief from some of her own burdens, and what mixes of herbs it took to kill. They were odorless, tasteless, and nearly invisible in any liquid. All she needed to do was slip them into his wine every night and then watch while he slowly, agonizingly died.
Her lover figured it out eventually but far, far too late. She even let him know what had happened to his ugly whore.
And then the second way this chain of events made it impossible for her to ever believe happiness for her was attainable was the betrayal of her own husband.
She went into the marriage, of course, knowing he would have others in his bed. She didn't care. As long as she was the queen, her position was not threatened, and she was able to bear an heir, she truly did not care. But she was not at all prepared for the moment when she was informed there was a woman who had become pregnant by the king and had not suffered the same fate as all the rest who had simply either disappeared or had become ill for a time, some even dying. This woman had been allowed to go full-term with her pregnancy. In fact, she had already had the child, a son, prior to Erora ever finding out she existed.
Though the knowledge the woman had become ill naturally and would most likely die, did not give her the needed relief she truly wanted. What it did was make her husband formulate a plan that would affect the kingdom for the rest of eternity.
He brought the whore and her bastard son to the castle.
The rumors flew in every direction. She could only be thankful Diagus had already been born a mere three years earlier. Since he was the son the kingdom had hoped for, and since there was no need for a second, although she pleaded for "a spare heir" and Oxys complied for a time, the king no longer came to her bed. But clearly, this woman and her child were different. The king seemed to enjoy their company. He seemed to be genuinely concerned for the woman's health. And then the biggest humiliation of all came in the form of bad news heaped on good news. The woman who had become a thorn in her side, died. That was the good news. The bad news was the king made a formal announcement the child was his and was second in the line for the throne.
The hell of it was, no one but Erora objected.
No one.
She was not only a woman enraged. She was no longer only a woman who was furious.
She was a woman scorned.
* * * *
Aric was nervous, and not because Blade Rain people were hovering all around them. He was told the queen had called for him. He had hoped he could get in and out without her ever finding out, and it proved at least one of the servants they had encountered was working directly for her.
She was in lust for him. But even back when he welcomed such interest, he would have never welcomed Erora Amar. Not only because she was too old for him, not only because she was too recently widowed, but because, mainly, she turned his stomach. He despised her arrogance. He understood those idiots who were so low on life's ladder that clawing up to her level might look inviting, but even if he were beneath her in status, bedding the queen of Blade Rain would never be something he would even consider.
Thankfully he had Joron now. He closed his eyes in a silent, grateful prayer. They had almost been too late. He wasn't sure what the goal had been, but death would have been at the end of those soldiers' sick games. His heart did somersaults over the thought he could have lost Joron forever if he had been one more hour. He shivered.
Plus, it would only be a matter of time before the queen decided she had waited long enough for him to have answered her summons. The very fact the queen knew he was in the castle was proof it was as Diagus feared--they could trust no one. What he should have done was to have covered the prince and left immediately from the wing of the castle they had come from. But there was no telling now if word had also gone to the queen that Joron had been rescued from her clutches. If that was the case, an army of men could be soon descending upon them. He looked around at the servants who were milling about. Some had the guts to look him in the eye but most avoided eye contact. He had to admit he didn't feel any negativity at all. There were no murmurs he could detect behind his back, no quick movements that might betray a queen sympathizer. Though he thought they were more or less safe here for the moment...
It was time to go.
Joron was dozing on Aric's shoulder, Aric's strong arms around him, holding him tight. He nudged him gently and whispered, "Hey, sorry to wake you, but I think it's time to go."
Joron came instantly but groggily aware. Aric tightened his hold until Joron came enough awake, enough to remember where he was--safe in Aric's arms. "What?"
"Time to go."
Joron looked around them, still trying to make things make sense. "Why? Where?"
"Just leave it to me." He stood, bringing Joron with him. Joron, finally becoming coherent, kicked out.
* * * *
"Put me down. I can walk."
Aric tightened his hold. "Be still." He growled out the words, making it clear Joron had no choice. Joron realized quickly not to argu
e. He was so happy Aric was here and holding him, taking him away. He settled into Aric's shoulder again, not wanting to make his rescuer angry or hinder what he intended on doing. It no longer mattered to Joron. Whatever the man decided was fine with him.
Joron tightened his arms around Aric's neck. Aric had come back for him. It was all his mind could comprehend, all he could see. It was fine that Joron was no longer needed here. He was thrilled now that was the case. He suddenly had a real life in front of him. He suddenly had a chance to be happy.
"I'm putting you down now." Aric swung Joron down to his feet. "Stay close." He grabbed Joron's hand and held it tight, pulling as they left out the side door. Joron could hear horses and people moving around. It was not quite dark, but it would be soon. Aric launched himself up on his horse. Then he reached down and easily lifted Joron up and into the saddle to sit front of him, wrapping one arm around the young man to steady them both.
"Move out," he shouted over his shoulder.
* * * *
Soldiers pulled out in front of them and instead of moving slowly, like a mass of soldiers were known to do, they moved fast. Aric tightened his hold around Joron as he urged his horse to a faster trot. His intent was to travel a few miles from the castle and stop for the night. His men were exhausted, as was he, and since he was not running from anything in particular, most of all Diagus, he felt safe doing it. Diagus would have his mother, her minions, and the castle, well under his total control in a matter of a day or two. He had nothing at all to worry about.
Diagus had seen Joron needed Aric. Aric's heart swelled for the new king. Diagus had relinquished ownership of Joron to him--a very brave and sacrificial thing to do. It was something he himself could not do. He chuckled. Diagus hid it under the guise of protecting his beloved brother. Diagus simply wanted, needed, Joron away from the castle, away from the wicked witch. Aric understood that very well and happily complied. And though Aric needed the boy in his arms and in his bed, too, he would risk waiting for that pleasure. His men had to have rest and so did he. He didn't so much mind if he ended up falling asleep before he reacquainted himself with Joron's body, to overwrite anything Joron's brother may have done to him, but if they had the rest along the way back to Claymoor Doom he planned on, it would be a very doable thing when they finally did reach the privacy of his quarters. All that mattered was Joron was back in his arms. He was alive, he was healthy, and he was his.
