by Holly Bargo
One of the young women approached and gestured to another of the small dishes. Corinne tried something else, choked on the spicy heat, and grabbed a goblet to drain it. The younger ladies laughed at their prank. Even the older women smirked.
“They try to kill you with their food,” her brother Samuel once told her after returning from overseas deployment. “Even your allies.”
She now understood what he meant.
She nibbled on the assortment of foods offered, all of it bite-sized and made for eating without utensils. She refilled the goblet and drank its potent contents in moderation. When Corinne had consumed her fill—and her head buzzed from the alcohol—the ladies drew her to her feet and led her to another chamber. Eager, bejeweled hands quickly divested her of clothes and pulled her into a large, cool fountain. The women gasped at the fae soul bond embedded in her skin, their inquisitive fingers tracing the intricate patterns of silver and black diamonds.
“Ouch! Stop that!” Corinne yelped when someone attempted to pry a diamond loose with a sharp fingernail. After a muttered apology, laughter and comments she did not understand flowed as the ladies bathed her and bathed with her.
Corinne felt thoroughly violated afterward.
Her hostesses chattered and debated among themselves as servants brought out a bewildering array of silks and jewels until finally Corinne found herself draped in filmy shades of blue and her wrists and ankles bedecked with layers of delicate gold chains dripping with blue stones. She looked and felt positively barbaric.
The older ladies fluttered and giggled as they, too, dressed in their finest garb. When a male servant knocked at the door to the women’s quarters, they assumed meek, sober expressions and directed their eyes to the floor. The servant glared at Corinne who dared meet his gaze.
They followed him down a long, airy corridor. A refreshing breeze blew through intricately carved stone screens, cooling the passageway. Corrine’s mind drifted into contemplation of the skilled craftsmanship needed to manufacture those screens and wondered if their host had imported the panels or the stoneworkers
The servant stopped at a doorway curtained by floor-to-ceiling beads which clacked as the ocean breeze wafted through the long strands. He barked a command and the ladies pushed through. They stumbled to a halt, mouths gaping and eyes flashing when Uberon rose from his bank of cushions to acknowledge the females.
“Mmmm,” the woman who taught the trade tongue to her daughters hummed her appreciation of the kilted, bare-chested fae lord who extended his hand toward his mate. She licked her lips and made it clear without words that she envied their guest her good fortune in having such a well-formed, handsome husband.
Even though she agreed, Corinne’s cheeks burned with embarrassment at the other woman’s obvious and lustful appreciation of her mate. It reminded her too much of the fawning, drooling looks directed at her brothers when they stopped by the college dormitory. She did not know whether her brothers ever accepted the blatant invitations; she did not want to know.
“Come, sit with me,” Uberon said.
Corinne stepped forward, conscious of the other women’s envy as she did so. Fidor Merogis barked a command at his two wives, obviously disgruntled by their distraction with the fae lord’s physical beauty. The women scurried forward to take their places at each of his flanks. Merogis’ meaty hands immediately grabbed and squeezed a breast on each woman. From their strained looks, he didn’t bother with a gentle touch.
“Cruel bastard,” Corinne muttered under her breath as she sat on a cushion beside Uberon.
“Do not interfere,” Uberon warned. “They will suffer the consequences.”
Corinne huffed her disapproval.
“Your woman is obedient,” Merogis observed with approval and a greedy glint in his eyes. “Do the Unseelie females look like this one? I would pay a ship’s hold of gold for such a rare beauty.”
“My mate is unique and has no equal,” Uberon replied. He shook his head. “I recommend you do not approach any fae with such an offer. Our females are few and precious to us.”
Servants approached carrying platters heaped with food. Savory fragrances wafted from the steaming rice, herbed vegetables, and spiced meat.
“Follow their lead,” Uberon murmured in Corinne’s ear as Merogis’ two wives moved to fill a plate for him. He spoke in English, the light accent sexy and distinctive. “Draw no more attention to yourself than necessary. Our host may attempt something and it’s best to lull him into a sense of false security.”
“I’d set fire to stone before I’d let him take me.”
“I know and I would add my fire to yours. But the women don’t deserve to suffer for their master’s perfidy and greed.”
Corinne had to agree.
“I do not recognize this rude tongue your woman speaks,” Merogis said in the common trade tongue as his wives fed him from their fingers.
Uberon answered in the same language as one of the women held a golden goblet to the merchant’s fleshy lips. “My mate comes from beyond the Unseelie Court. Her soul called to mine.”
“A woman’s soul? Has a woman such a thing?” Merogis laughed. “They are sweet to look at and good to fuck, but of little use otherwise except for the bearing of sons. And no man wishes to jeopardize the formation of his son, which requires a man to have multiple wives to slake his needs.”
Oh, I really do want to curse this pig!
Uberon’s chuckle reverberated inside her mind. Corinne felt no recriminations, no disapproval. She plucked a meatball from the closest platter and held it to his lips. He chewed.
“Excellent.”
Corinne ate a meatball and agreed.
Merogis turned the conversation to matters of trade, negotiating to secure exclusivity on supplying the royal court of the Quoliálfur in what was sure to be a long-standing, lucrative trade agreement. Uberon met the wily merchant’s negotiation with an utter refusal to promise the profitable trade deals Merogis so clearly desired. As the males ate and conversed, the merchant’s wives chatted quietly with each other while tending to their master. They lapsed into resentful silence when he offered the Quoliálfur king all five of his daughters in exchange for exclusive trade contracts.
“While your offer is most generous,” the fae king replied as he stroked a hand down his mate’s red hair, “I neither need nor want another female.”
“A virile man like you? How could you not need multiple women?” The merchant’s eyes gleamed as they roamed over the sculpted muscles. His gaze shifted to run up and down the fae king’s mate. “A single woman who can satisfy the appetite of a man like you must be insatiable.”
“Fae mates crave only each other,” Uberon replied.
Reviewing the conversation between the merchant and the king, Corinne had an idea. Offer him gold for his daughters.
Did you not—
I heard you and appreciate it. Really, I do. But if we take these girls, then we can give them an education, a better life.
What will they do with that education? What careers could they take that would allow them to retain their dignity?
Your kingdom is new. Why not open opportunities for women?
Like your homeland?
Yes, but without taking a few hundred years to do so. She huffed. Uberon, you’re the king. Make a law.
Not even a king can override culture.
Perhaps not all at once, but you can decree that women not be denied the same education and opportunities as men. Let these girls be the vanguard of that.
Have you asked them whether they wish to be the vanguard of anything?
She huffed again, hating his cool logic. I can barely communicate with them. Only one of the women speaks more than a few words of the common language, and I don’t speak their native tongue.
Stroking a fingertip along her jaw, Uberon said in English, “If these girls give their consent, then I shall buy them and see them educated and employed in Quoliálfur.”
Merogi
s clapped his hands, which set his jowls to jiggling. Three women clothed in little more than strategically draped chains strutted through the beaded entrance. A flautist and drummer followed them in and took their places in a corner of the room. Skirling music set the three women to dancing, which involved much rolling of hips and shaking of bosoms and tossing of hair. The merchant watched with rapt attention as he pulled one of his wives into his lap. He growled a command and she opened the front of his robes. At another command, she bent over his lap and took his soft penis into her mouth.
“I can’t believe this,” Corinne murmured and averted her eyes. “Even when Gus was touching Oriel right in front of me, he protected her. He didn’t lust over some dancer and use her to get his rocks off.”
“That, beloved, is one distinction between human and fae.”
“No,” Corinne argued with a stubborn shake of her head. “My father would never treat my mother like that.”
Uberon conceded the point.
“Lord Nochnaya, show me how a fae female pleases her master,” Merogis beckoned, then groaned with pleasure as his fat hands clenched the woman’s hair and pushed her head into his groin. Corinne flinched at the sound of the woman gagging.
Uberon directed a cold, silver gaze at the man who forced the woman to swallow him. “Some things we fae keep private. But I would be grateful to be excused so that I might enjoy my mate’s company without distraction.”
Merogis licked his lips and nodded, a wave of his thick hand granting consent. Uberon rose to his feet, drawing Corinne up with him. He bowed and, taking his mate’s hand in his, departed for the sumptuous chamber the merchant had assigned him.
Corinne spent the night in Uberon’s arms; but, after their host’s postprandial display and the gagging sounds echoing in her ears, she found no enthusiasm for conjugal relations. The fae king said nothing, he merely gathered her close to his body and urged her to sleep without fear.
She awoke alone, wrapped in a thin wool blanket.
After taking some time to remember her location, she washed and dressed in her cleaned riding habit. Corinne stepped into the hallway and looked both ways. The coast was clear.
She glanced back at the door to the room, then again in both directions down the corridor. Making a decision, she walked.
Where are you?
Negotiating with Merogis.
She inhaled with anticipation. The girls?
Aye. Your compassion and idealism spark the better part of me.
Where are you?
At the wharf.
Corinne tore off at a run, startling the servants she passed. Sailors swiveled around to watch as her booted feet thumped down the wooden planks. She saw the merchant’s brightly colored robes flapping in the wind and Uberon’s long black hair unfurling like a flag. Standing in a cluster of fearful uncertainty, Merogis’ daughters alternately watched the two men and looked at the waiting ship as they conversed in quiet tones.
Though he did not raise his head to acknowledge her, Uberon extended his hand toward her. Corinne skidded to a stop and grabbed his hand, willingly allowing him to reel her in and tuck her close to his side. He bent down to press a kiss into her hair and returned his piercing gaze to Mergosis.
“You are indulgent,” the merchant commented. “Women require strictness, else they make trouble.”
“They are now my trouble,” Uberon reminded him with a shark’s smile. “Have their belongings brought aboard, along with my horses and packs.”
Merogis shook his head. “Lord Nochnaya, you purchased the girls, nothing more. I consider myself generous in allowing them to go with the clothes on their backs.”
At Corinne’s outraged gasp, Uberon tightened his hold on his mate, signaling to her to let him take care of the situation. He lifted his gaze to take in the merchant’s prosperous compound. Looking back down at Merogis, he said, “What a pity it would be if the wards protecting your estate were to fail. The Quol has no mercy for its prey.”
Merogis’ swarthy skin turned ashen.
“I should think such a doting father would wish his daughters to be comfortable with their familiar possessions around them.”
“A father with valuable daughters commands a high bride price to ensure they live in comfort,” Merogis retorted.
“Ah, but I’ve already paid and have the bill of sale in hand.”
“A bill of sale for female flesh and nothing more.”
A haunting cry echoed from the distance where the dark jungle lurked. Sailors paused in their work to make signs against evil or murmur silent prayers for their safety. Fidor Merogis glanced toward his home.
“The wards remain viable at my will,” Uberon said. “Your daughters deserve the comfort of their belongings.”
“They own nothing. They were my property and property cannot itself own other property.”
“Do not allow your greed to destroy you.”
“The wards have stood for over two centuries and no exiled fae lord is strong enough to dismantle them. You have what you paid for, Lord Nochnaya. Please take your cargo and go.”
Uberon nodded. “Come, beloved. The girls will need your support.”
Corinne clenched her jaw, knowing that Merogis had just sealed his doom and that of many others. A sailor led the two horses up the gangplank, another following behind carrying saddles and saddlebags. Two more sailors herded the girls onto the ship. The girls cast frightened looks at their father waddling back up the wharf, barking orders as he went and not once turning back to bid them goodbye.
“They’re better off without him,” Corinne said. “But I feel sorry for their mothers.”
“They’ll not mourn for long.”
“You mean they’ll die? You’d actually let the wards fall?”
“Beloved, if a king does not keep his word, then he loses his authority.”
“But that fat jerk doesn’t know you’re a king!”
“He knows I am highborn fae and that is sufficient.”
“But what about all the other people here?”
“If they’re smart, they’ll sail off before the Quoli overrun the compound.”
Corinne shuddered and gripped the railing so hard her knuckles turned white. “They’ll all die.”
“Aye.”
“And Merogis won’t lift a finger to save them.”
“No.”
“You can—”
“I can, but I shall not.”
Tears glistened in Corinne’s eyes as she looked at the towering male who treated her with such tenderness and generosity, and yet condemned a veritable village to death. This, she realized once more, was the Unseelie king, a fae whose icy heart struck fear into thousands of generations of people.
Over the snap of sails, the creak of wood, and the splash of water, she heard thin, high shrieks of triumph as the wards protecting the merchant’s compound cracked beneath the pressure of the Quol’s mindless hunger and the withdrawal of will and energy that created and sustained them. Corinne could not bear to ask when the wards would crumble and the mysterious Quoli would swarm toward the water to reclaim their territory.
The ship’s captain approached the fae lord to confer with him. They spoke in low tones and in the captain’s native tongue which Corinne did not understand. She did, however, examine him covertly and determined from his orange and purple hair and pointed teeth that he was either not human or perhaps only partially human.
“What is he?” she finally asked, her voice subdued.
“Maltani. On the continent, they are more commonly called witchbreed.”
“Not fae?”
“Remotely fae. The Maltani emerged as an amalgamation of races that interbred over thousands of years to eventually become a distinct species.”
She nodded, not knowing how to respond or even if a response was needed.
“Come, beloved, let’s show the girls to their cabin.”
Corinne blinked, startled by the abrupt shift back to the Uberon she knew and
loved. Yes, loved.
CHAPTER 16
The girls clustered around Corinne as Uberon led them to their cabin, large enough for two portholes to let in fresh air. Subdued in the presence of the wealthy male who’d purchased them from their father, they maintained a fearful quiet.
I wish there were a way I could learn their native tongue quickly.
You have but to ask.
Corinne’s eyes widened with astonishment. Can you—will you—give that gift of their speech?
Of course.
Corinne thought there was no “of course” about it. Then will you? Please?
She felt invisible fingers stroking inside her brain as though rifling through mental files. More invisible fingers stroke elsewhere, making her squirm as her libido sparked and hummed like a well-tuned car under the hands of a skilled mechanic.
You’re playing dirty.
You like it.
Well, she couldn’t very well deny that and wondered if she and Uberon had a separate, private cabin.
Of course, we do. I plan to ravish you properly tonight.
A shudder of desire rippled through her even as a headache pressed against her skull. She supposed that the sudden dumping of knowledge would strain the capacity of her mind. At least that explanation made sense.
Uberon’s arm wrapped around her, drawing her back to his front. He bent down and nibbled at her earlobe and whispered, “Listen and speak. You will understand and be understood.”
“Did you just—?”
“Every living language I know you now command,” he said. “And I shall take great pleasure in fucking you in every one of those languages.”
Corinne wanted to moan as arousal slicked her thighs. Uberon nipped her neck and straightened. She sighed and gathered her composure and wits, although the girls who watched with wide, knowing eyes did not misunderstand the interaction between the handsome fae lord and his exotic looking mate.
“This is your room,” she said, carefully enunciating the unfamiliar sounds and syllables as she pushed open the cabin door. “No crew are permitted in here while you occupy the room, so you must take responsibility for keeping it clean.”
