by Raven Li
Deliberately teasing, she slid her hands down to the hem of her skirt, drawing it up slowly. Her fingers brushed the soft skin of her thighs lightly, sensuously. She pretended that she could feel Elodan’s hot breath there, the quick caress of his tongue as he worked his way higher and higher. With a soft moan, she parted her thighs, fingers finding the swollen bud of her clit and tugging gently. Her folds were soft and slick, and she delved the fingers of her other hand into them.
She imagined Elodan’s arms around her again, his erection hard and hot against her back, his legs wrapped around her as he played with her. Her back arched as she tugged more insistently on her clit, the fingers of her other hand slipping between her labia to penetrate her slick cunt. Elodan’s teeth would scrape the back of her neck as he bit her, gentle but possessive, relentlessly bringing her to orgasm—
She cried out, body thrashing in a final spasm of pleasure. After, she lay still for a while longer, trying to sustain the fantasy of being held by Elodan for as long as she could. Then, with a resigned sigh, she straightened her clothes and stretched out on the paltry straw mattress. Elodan wasn’t there, would never be there for her again. But at least in her final hours she could remember all that they had shared.
Chapter Thirteen
“Up with you, vixen!” shouted a harsh voice.
Sasha blinked awake at the sound. She had not imagined that she could sleep, but sheer exhaustion had overcome her somewhere in the early hours of the morning. Her body ached from the uncomfortable bed, and there was straw stuck in her hair. Her mouth tasted like the bottom of an old boot, and her eyes felt full of grit.
Underground in the cells, it was impossible to guess what time it was or how long she had slept. Five Order mages stood on the other side of the door, two with torches and the other three holding chains. At a signal from the leader, a guard came forward and opened the door.
“Do not try to raise your magic against us,” one of the mages warned.
Sasha would have laughed had the situation been different. “I can’t believe you are so afraid that it takes five of you to restrain me.”
“Be silent!”
She shrugged. Trading barbs with a bunch of lackeys would make no difference. Although she doubted they intended for her to speak overmuch at her trial, she wouldn’t give them the excuse to silence her before it even began. Perhaps, if she had the chance, she might at least plant seeds of doubt in a few minds. It seemed the only thing she could do.
They shackled her hands in front of her, then her feet. A last length of chain connected the restraints, shortening her steps and her reach even further. Even though she was restricted to a shuffling gait, she forced herself to walk with her head held high, as if surrounded by an honor guard rather than one meant to subdue her. The mages exchanged uneasy looks; clearly, her attitude was unexpected and they weren’t sure if they should do anything to quell it or not.
Sasha had assumed that they would take her to the Gathering Hall, but instead she found herself being led outside into the courtyard. The sun was already high; birds sang, and she caught the scent of the flowers from the orchard. Two raised wooden platforms had been hastily put together; Arath and his cronies sat on one, while she was led to the other. Still determined to maintain her composure, she looked out over the crowd. Although those nearest to the platforms were members of the Order, to her surprise villagers and peasants made up the remainder of the huge gathering.
Jacie stood close to the platform, her eyes desperate. Sasha met her gaze, and for a moment it shook her. Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring her sight. Blinking them back, she forced herself to take strength from her friend’s presence. She wondered if every other gaze on her was hostile, or if there were any who sympathized with her plight. Even if there were, she could not count on them for help. She was in this alone.
Arath rose slowly to his feet, his white robes blowing around him in the spring breeze. His small eyes scanned her body, and she saw a smirk of pleasure on his mouth. No doubt he was enjoying the sight of a young woman afraid for her life. Determined not to give him any satisfaction if she could help it, she met his gaze coolly and saw a scowl darken his face.
“You have been called here to witness the trial of Sasha, former apprentice of the Order,” Arath declared loudly, his forbidding gaze sweeping over the silent crowd. “Because of the grave nature of her crimes, I have opened this trial to those outside of the Order, so that you may all see the consequences of disobedience. Hieromancer Farius, please proceed with the charges.”
Arath sank back into his chair, and Farius stood up. The look on his face was one of cruel pleasure. “The vile creature before us has committed so many crimes it will be difficult to name them all; therefore, I will restrict myself to the most grave. She has called upon the Hag to give her forbidden magic, allying herself with witches and demons. She has used this magic in an attempt to seduce her superiors within the Order, and when they proved too holy for her wiles, she then used her evil powers to call back the Dark Mage from his exile.”
The gasps that came from the crowd seemed oddly contrived, as did the shouts of outrage denouncing her. Sasha scanned quickly for the faces of the loudest, and recognized the Hieromancer’s most loyal students and friends. They had been dispersed throughout the crowd, perhaps to make their condemnation seem universal. A few other voices took up the cry, particularly within the Order, but the peasants were shifting uneasily.
The Hieromancer smiled at the sound of angry voices. “Yes, the Dark Mage,” he said slowly, as if he relished the words. “I have seen him myself. Of all the evil that this woman has done, surely restoring him is the greatest. She is a traitor to the very human race! The Dark Mage is evil incarnate; he will seek to destroy the Order and damn all others to hell on earth! He—”
“You lie!” Sasha shouted, unable to contain her outrage any longer.
Silence fell. The Hieromancer looked almost comically shocked that she had dared to interrupt him. Seizing the opportunity, she turned imploringly to the crowd. “Elodan is not evil. It is the Order that has gone astray! They—”
“Silence!” shouted one of her guards, raising his hand threateningly.
“No,” called the Hieromancer. “Let her answer my questions, then, if she is so eager to speak. You do not deny unleashing the Dark Mage?”
Her heart beat hard with fear, but she held her head high. “I do not.”
“So. You released him from his prison. If that was not an evil act, then why did you flee afterwards? Why were you so ashamed that you could not stay and face the rest of the Order?”
“Because I knew what your reaction would be.”
“Wrong. You knew that your own actions would condemn you in Osan’s eyes. You knew that what you were doing was against all goodness! Yet there is still time to redeem yourself.” A cunning light entered the Hieromancer’s eyes, and he smiled thinly. “All is not lost. Repent of your wickedness and forgiveness may still be had.”
Her heart went cold. “In exchange for what?”
“Simple, child. An act of contrition, nothing more or less. You will tell us where the Dark Mage has fled to. Tell us who has sheltered him.” He held up his hand quickly, before she could reply. “Think carefully. Do as I ask, and we will be lenient, for you will have shown your remorse beyond all doubt. Refuse...and things will go badly for you.”
A dozen writhing, screaming fire elementals appeared above his head, their eyes filled with rage, their flaming wings beating impotently. Sasha swallowed hard, recognizing his threat. If she did not comply, she would be burned alive.
Dear Osan. Dear Nyx. It was difficult to imagine a more horrible end.
Taking a deep breath, she looked one last time out over the crowd. “I will not recant,” she said, her voice strong and clear despite her terror. “I will not betray Elodan. He is a good man and I...I love him.”
Shrieks of outrage exploded all around her. The Hieromancer’s face flushed an ugly shade of
red, and he lifted his hand to command the elementals. “Then you will burn for your crimes!”
The guards who had been standing to either side of her dove frantically away before they could be caught by the Hieromancer’s rage. A hot wind came up in advance of the elementals, whipping Sasha’s hair back from her face. Bright sparks of fire streamed towards her, turning into a whirling maelstrom that would consume her utterly.
Power crackled through the air, and a cool breeze cut suddenly through the hot blast. For a moment, the fire elementals wavered, their cries of torment fading as they hung in the air. Then, with an abrupt pop, they vanished.
Sasha staggered against the rail around the platform, amazed to be alive. The Hieromancer stared at her in horror and rage, his eyes practically bulging out of his head. “You! How could you do that? You’re but an apprentice!”
“But I am not,” said a deep, clear voice from the edge of the crowd.
Her heart leaping into her throat, Sasha turned. A huge black horse pranced at the entrance to the courtyard. On its back sat Elodan, his long hair streaming around his face, his black eyes fixed unwaveringly on his enemies.
“You dare!” cried the Hieromancer, aghast. “By the power of Osan, I bind thee, serpent of evil—”
“Spare me,” Elodan interrupted. “I have come here to unmask you, Farius, and all those like you.”
“Do not listen to him! He is the Dark Mage, the greatest of liars!”
“They have no need to listen to me—they need only remember what they have seen!” Elodan said, his voice carrying clearly over the crowd. He turned towards the gathered peasantry. “You who have suffered the most under Arath’s rule know the truth better than any. How many of your children have been killed as witches because the Order’s rulers wished to keep power in their hands alone? How many have hidden in your homes whenever a mage rides past, afraid of being denounced and punished for some imagined sin? How many of you have fallen in love, deeply so, only to be told that your feelings are somehow wrong and offensive to the Gods?”
There came an angry murmur from the crowd. Even some of the younger mages looked troubled by his words.
“He is nothing but a tempter!” shouted Arath, rising to his feet. “As he has corrupted this young woman before you, so he seeks to corrupt you all!”
“And is what he has done somehow worse than what you’ve done to me?” cried Jacie.
Sasha gasped, afraid for her friend. There was a determined look on Jacie’s tear-streaked face as she clambered onto the platform to stand by her. “Arath raped me!” she shouted, anger and shame and pain all twisted up in her voice. “He attacked me, and then made me feel like it was my fault! My fault, because he was more powerful than me, and older than me, and I trusted him!”
Jacie’s voice broke into helpless sobs, and she buried her face in her hands.
“Another liar!” Arath cried, but now he had to struggle to be heard over the roar of the crowd. “Kill them! Kill them all!”
A storm of elementals suddenly appeared: fire, earth, air, and water, all struggling and battling one another while the shouts of mages rang out. Jacie gasped, and she and Sasha both ducked down, making themselves smaller targets.
“We have to get out of here!” Jacie whispered. Sasha nodded, even though it would be difficult with her hands and feet bound. They both rolled off the edge of the platform; Sasha would have fallen had not Jacie caught her elbow as she stumbled.
All around them was confusion. Mages fought one another and peasants alike. Many of the peasants had come armed with simple weapons, pitchforks and scythes. Although they were taking heavy losses, they were still able to inflict terrible wounds against some of the Order.
The two women clung to one another, stumbling through the chaos, confined to a shuffle because of the chains around Sasha’s feet. Sasha ducked out of the way of a pair of young men she recognized as fellow apprentices, now locked in a life-or-death struggle with one another.
“We’re almost at the edge of it, I think,” she said encouragingly. “Just a few more feet and—”
A heavy blow knocked them both to the ground. Frantic, Sasha rolled onto her back, determined to fight even though she couldn’t use her power to Summon with her hands bound. Arath stood above them, his thin strands of colorless hair blowing in the wind. His eyes were lit with the fire of a fanatic, and a maddened grin stretched his mouth.
“You will not harm them!”
Elodan appeared as if from nowhere, on foot now. His clothing was slightly charred in places, but otherwise he looked unhurt. His eyes were narrowed dangerously, their obsidian orbs glinting.
“So here we are again,” Arath hissed, all his attention on Elodan. “Raise a hand against me, and I will kill these two. History repeats itself. What a fool you are, to fall for the same ruse twice.”
Elodan’s fine mouth was pressed into a furious line, but he made no move towards Arath. “Perhaps. But at least I have learned a few things since last we met.”
“Have you now? What would those be?”
“Many things, not least the power of love.” Elodan smiled suddenly. “Also I have learned patience. Patience, and the ability to step back and allow others to act when they are better suited to the battle than I.”
Arath threw back his head and laughed, incredulous. “So! You abandon this woman you claim to love, leave her and the other bitch to die in your stead while you flee!”
Elodan shook his head. His eyes went briefly to Sasha, and she saw fierce love burning like a fire in their obsidian depths. “You mistake me,” he said.
Then he turned towards the swirl of elementals swarming above Arath’s head. Flinging out his hand, he cried, “In the name of Nyx, Goddess of the Night, and Osan, God of the Sun, I unbind you! Go free, and do as you will!”
A deafening crack shattered the air as the binding Arath used to control and torment the elementals broke. For a moment, the cloud of fiery beings stilled, their shrieks silenced at last. Then, howling in rage, they turned and flung themselves on their former tormentor.
Arath’s screams rose above the din of the battle as the elementals transformed him into a living torch. The freed spirits attacked without mercy, leaping from mage to mage, seeking out those who had enslaved them and freeing their kin who were still held in cruel bondage. Shrieks of terror filled the air, and in a moment the battle had become a stampede.
Elodan touched Sasha’s chains, and they shattered like glass. Pulling her and Jacie to their feet, he dragged them out of harm’s way. Relieved beyond all words, Sasha flung her arms around him. His own arms tightened around her, crushing her to him. His mouth was hot on hers, lips and tongue frantically exploring hers, as if to make certain she was real.
“I was so afraid I wouldn’t make it in time,” he gasped.
She leaned tiredly against his chest, remembering how certain she had been that she would never know his touch again. For a moment, she wanted only to shut out the entire world and hide herself away with him. Then, sighing, she reluctantly lifted her head and looked around.
The battle was over. Little remained of Arath and his chief mages save for ashes that vengeful wind sprites were even now scattering. Those of the Order who remained stared blankly, their entire world crumbled into ash along with the First. Behind them, the peasants sent up a ragged cheer.
“Now what?” Sasha asked, echoing the thoughts of many of her peers.
Elodan settled his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Now we begin anew,” he said.
Chapter Fourteen
Sasha leaned against the windowsill and watched the sun go down. The shutters were flung wide, letting a cool breeze into her old tower room. That small change was just one of many that had overtaken the Order in the days since Arath’s defeat, and there would soon be even more. Those gifted with power but not of noble blood had already begun to come to the castle, cautiously seeking the training they had long been denied. No longer were restrictive head-t
o-toe coverings required for women, although a few still wore them, as was their right as free people. Old statues of the Goddess—many of them very valuable—had been found locked away in the personal vaults of Arath and some of the others of the old regime. The last of these had just been restored to a place of honor at Osan’s side in the main chapel.
Elodan’s boots tapped softly on the stone floor as he came to stand behind her. “What are you thinking, my love?” he asked, his breath stirring the fine hairs on her neck and making her shiver.
She smiled wryly. “Just how much things will change. And how some will always resist that change.”
“True enough.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him so that the bulge of his erection pressed against her rear. “But we’ll face them when the time comes. With you at my side, how can I worry about the future?”
She grinned and rubbed her body suggestively against his. With a muffled moan of passion, he turned her around and kissed her deeply. His mouth left hers, trailed kisses down her neck, nibbled on her earlobe until she whimpered.
She ran her hands over his strong shoulders, then found the laces of his shirt, untying them eagerly. He took a step back, smiling seductively, and stripped off the shirt. His skin was hot and tight against his muscles as she ran her hands over his chest, then down over his belly. Dropping to her knees, she tugged at the ties of his trousers with her teeth. He moaned as she slowly pulled them free, brushing her lips over the bulge of cock as she did so. Once done, she tugged off his boots, tossing them casually aside.
Standing up, she pushed his pants free of his hips, so that he stood before her naked. His cock pressed into her belly as she leaned against him, winding her arms around his shoulders and sliding her hands through his hair. His hands roamed freely over her body, pulling at her clothing until skin met skin. The hard peaks of her nipples rubbed against his chest, sending shivers of pleasure through her.
