“They did love each other. You are complicating things. Your mother had one lover in all the years she stood as queen. Your father had many, but they did not have what you have. They had no Samir, either of them. They loved each other and that should have been enough, but it wasn’t. I often thought a third and mutual love could have joined them more than their volatile hearts could. Many Swithin live in pairs only, but in this one case, your parents could have done with a third. But your father would not have another male and your mother would not have another female to share their bed or their lives. Both were too dominant, and I don’t mean sex. Neither would give. Both saw their own sex as a threat.”
“Are Shavar destined to always live this way?”
“Do you not love your queen, then?”
That tone was a little too mocking for his liking, but Markis could think of nothing to say. Would it always be the way of Sonndre to answer back? Harton smiled.
“She brings a smile to your face. As many frowns, there are as many smiles.”
“That’s just women,” Markis retaliated.
Harton laughed. “It has nothing to do with it, and you know it. Uly and Ryanac do the same. Uly makes you smile the most.”
Markis shrugged. “Well…Ryanac…” He said that name as though that explained everything about the man and, of course, it did. “Sometimes I just feel as though I never knew my parents. Worse, I feel they didn’t know each other.”
“They knew each other more than either of them could stand.”
Markis failed to see how that was supposed to make him feel better. “Time is wasting. I have your first assignment for you.” He told Harton what it was.
“You want me to keep chipmunks from nibbling Uly’s toes?”
“It’s not chipmunks I’m worried about.”
Harton searched his gaze. “I know about the attack that Antal took on Uly’s behalf. We all do. Nevertheless, that’s not the only thing I see in your eyes. I don’t suppose you would like to tell me the size of the critter we’re out to catch.”
“I’m not sure. I’m hoping you might know it when you see it.”
“Ryanac, Antal, me. You’ve chosen…well.” Harton paused. If one could judge by his expression, it looked as if he wanted to say something, but had not the heart for it. “I will do what I can to keep Uly safe.”
Something muted the man’s voice. Harton sounded almost melancholy. Still, Markis gave him a nod in acknowledgement over his skill. It wasn’t ego, just the truth. He turned to leave the room, then paused. “Oh, I know what my father was like, but just so that you know, Ryanac doesn’t baby-sit me.”
Harton pursed his lips and smiled. He made an odd gesture with his head. “Whatever you say, Shavar Sardian. Whatever you say.”
Markis forced a grin. He didn’t feel like it. He wanted to argue. He just didn’t have that much breath or time to waste, no matter how long he lived.
Chapter Seven
“Are you going to be this sullen for the rest of the outing?”
“What? No.” Ryanac’s remark broke into Uly’s thoughts. He turned his head to look at Ryanac, frowning. “I’m not sullen.”
Ryanac gave him a look that said he most certainly was. Well, maybe…a little.
They were alone. When Ryanac had said he would take Uly out to the woods, Uly hadn’t believed him. After all that fuss, he didn’t think Markis would agree, even though he had explained how cooped up he felt. Ryanac had kept his word, though, and that made Uly suspicious.
“What are you thinking?”
“When did you and Markis decide to arrange this excursion? I have a feeling you discussed this for some time.”
Ryanac chuckled. “How fast they grow up.”
Uly looked at him, and it took all his restraint not to poke out his tongue. Part of the reason he kept his mouth closed was that he didn’t know what Ryanac would do at the sight of his tongue.
“You’re right, of course. We thought it would do you good.”
“Isn’t it dangerous?” Uly let his gaze wander over the forest.
“Not with me to guard you. None of us can stand to live in a cage permanently. Besides, we aren’t as alone as you think. Harton is out there.”
Uly gave a small start in surprise and once more scanned the trees.
“He’s not right here with us. He’s just keeping an eye on things. He’ll check out anyone who shouldn’t be in this part of the forest.” He’d already explained to Uly that this area was private to royalty or by invitation only, for conservation purposes. “No one else knows we’re here, though, and I don’t intend for anyone to see us. They think we have you shut in your room right now, and we were happy to let them believe so. They all believe Markis is mad at you for something, although they don’t know what and don’t really care. Some are uneasy. Some feel pleased by the prospect. They would like to see you in the wrong, see Markis angry with you.”
Uly sighed. “Some will always think of me as a thief.” He frowned. “I didn’t think the Swithin would hold such prejudices.”
“You were…are a thief, Uly. It’s not a profession we take kindly to, even if you did it out of necessity, and even if Markis has made use of your skills. No one cares that you were poor. Now be quiet a moment.”
Uly looked once more to the forest. Ryanac had chosen this spot for a reason. Uly just didn’t know what that reason could be. Birds called to each other in the overhead branches. Trees taller than the palace did their best to block out the sky. Where it broke through in places, the sky was a rich, clear blue, and golden light beamed down in streams to the forest floor. They lay on soft mulch. He could smell nothing but rich earth. A lower canopy of leaves hid them from view so they could peer out unseen. What Uly didn’t understand was why they were hiding.
“Why are we wait ‑‑”
Ryanac lifted a hand and pointed. The animal walked sedately into the clearing. Uly had never seen such a creature before. It stood on four slender, fragile-looking legs. The animal’s belly appeared full and rounded, and it flicked a white tuft of a tail. The head was small and pointed with oval ears that swivelled about in search of a sound. The eyes were dark, gleaming. Spots adorned its back. As if anticipating his question, Ryanac said, “It’s a deer, or in this case a doe, the female of the species. It’s a young one, though. The male has antlers.”
Uly had no idea what antlers were, but he decided not to ask. He would find out for himself in the Swithin library. He learnt many things in the library, not all of them good. He would also look up more details about this strange creature. He watched it for a few minutes as, once satisfied the area was safe, it bent its head and began to nibble at something on the forest floor. After a while, he glanced at Ryanac. The man always carried a sword, but this time he had brought a bow as well.
“You’re not going to kill it?” Uly whispered. Ryanac looked at him, a grin playing about his lips. The man could be so infuriating. Uly frowned at him on purpose.
“No. We’re not hunting. Deer meat is tasty enough, but I wouldn’t take such a young, fertile creature unless we were desperate for food, and if I could help it, not even then. You try to kill the stags. That’s the males.”
“Why?”
“If you have too many stags to the number of does, they fight. They gore each other to death.”
“With what?”
Ryanac’s face drew down in obvious confusion. “With their…” He stopped and turned his head to look at Uly. “You don’t know what antlers are.”
To think he had tried to hide it, only to give himself away. Uly didn’t know what to say, so he shrugged. “If you were starving, you would have to kill one of the does, wouldn’t you?” He just wanted to change the subject.
“Not necessarily. There’s plenty to eat in the forest, though you might find some of it unsavoury.”
“Like what?”
Ryanac looked about. He reached out and lifted a piece of timber from the ground. Beneath, long, white bugs that
looked like caterpillars squirmed. “Good nourishment,” Ryanac remarked, and then put the wood back, silently laughing at the expression Uly pulled.
“I told you my title of Silas meant forest dweller. You might not like how I did it, but I would keep you alive out here and in worse conditions even than this. You’ve lived on the streets. I would have thought you had survived on some unsavoury things.”
“I have,” Uly admitted. “Not…bugs.”
“You’re lucky.”
“No.” Uly shook his head. “It never occurred to me, but I think the insects you would find where I come from would be likely to poison you.”
“What makes you say that?”
Ryanac sounded genuinely interested to hear his reasoning. The peculiarity of the conversation struck Uly as bizarre. “They…look poisonous.”
“You’re not far off track. Some insects have bright colours such as red or yellow markings to fool a predator, but most of those in your homeland you would find disagreeable.”
Now Uly grimaced. “Please don’t tell me you tried the insects while you were there.”
Ryanac laughed quietly, though the doe had wandered to the edge of the clearing. “No. I didn’t eat any of them, but I checked out a lot of the area and the things in it. I was there a long time, remember. Even as Markis’s guard, I had time on my hands. Besides, my reports were intended to be useful.”
“Isn’t that a little too like work? What did you do for fun?” Uly’s face grew warm and he lowered his gaze. Knowing Ryanac as he did, the question was no doubt foolish. Ryanac now watched him, not the animal. “That is…”
“Sex, Uly. When I wasn’t working, I had sex, or I would read. Yes,” he added as Uly’s eyes widened. “Ryanac. Can. Read. He can also write or dance if you play the right tune.”
The thought of the big man dancing caused Uly to bark out a laugh. The sudden sound startled the doe, and she darted off.
“She would have gone soon, anyway,” Ryanac said, rising. He held out a hand and helped Uly to his feet. “You didn’t have to laugh, though.” He took Uly’s hands in his and twirled him around. The large man was surprisingly light on his feet. Where the leaves made Uly slip, and the roots threatened to trip him, Ryanac might as well have been flitting about on solid ground. This time when Uly laughed, it was closer to delight than surprise.
Ryanac stopped moving, pulled Uly closer, and lifted his face by the chin. His thumb stroked back and forth. “Do you know how good it is to hear you laugh?”
Uly couldn’t help feeling pleased, but lowered his gaze. “So everyone keeps saying.”
“There’s the truth of it, then.”
The moment grew quiet, containing a strange intimacy, almost poignant. Uly swallowed, unnerved. If Ryanac had kissed him just then, he would have let him. He wasn’t sure he didn’t want the big man to do so, despite his ambiguous feelings towards him, but Ryanac stepped back.
“Come on. Let’s try to find you a stag so I can show you what antlers are. We’ll stop for lunch soon.”
Uly fell into step. “So long as it’s not bugs,” he said.
The other man laughed, turning as he walked to look back, yet still managing not to trip up. He might get the hang of it eventually, but this was Uly’s first experience of such terrain, and he would have ended up on his backside. He couldn’t believe how jealous he felt. “Not bugs,” Ryanac promised, patting the pack he carried. “I brought provisions.”
* * * * *
The Swithin preferred to divide rooms with screening decorated with intricate fretwork. Markis and his entourage segregated their private rooms in the usual way. This allowed cool breezes to move more freely. If anyone required privacy, the Swithin used heavier, more complex screens, or attached drapes to the light ones. This also allowed for easy reorganisation of the area if one required it or grew bored.
Tressa’s dressing area lay to the rear of her bed. Markis sat down and waited. He had an awareness of his groin almost as though it was the dominant area of his body. Right now, maybe it was. He had no idea exactly what was going on in Uly’s room. Ryanac and Uly had returned from their day out in the forest. He both itched to know what was happening and longed for ignorance. His frustration grew in part because he felt irritated by his own emotions. Markis loved them both, and the Swithin way dictated there was no cause for jealousy. He partly longed for the two most important men in his life to make love. It might cure all this uncertainty. It should, anyway. Markis feared it might do the opposite. He longed for the act of love to bring them together, but deep down, he believed it would take more than that. Uly and Tressa weren’t Swithin. They were an unknown equation that complicated his life no matter how he felt, no matter how much he needed them, even if that need was for disparate reasons.
Markis had always thought, if the time came for Ryanac and Uly to come together as lovers, that he would be part of it. He imagined sharing an evening, and lust getting the better of reticence. Ryanac had said he harboured no plans to seduce Uly tonight, but then he said he had no plans for that any night. How the big man could be so calm about this was beyond Markis. Ryanac would just grin that grin of his, and assure Markis if it were going to happen, it would happen in its own good time. All Ryanac intended to do tonight was present Uly with their gift, just as Markis now intended to do with Tressa. Setting the crystals aside in the padded box, specially made to contain the vibration, Markis stood up and paced. He did not have long to wait. Tressa emerged from the dressing area, stopping short when she saw him and gasping a little.
“I did not hear you enter.”
In truth, he had been deliberately quiet, wanting to ambush her. That small sound of fear made his heart rate increase. Why a woman often instilled that in a man when she squealed or whimpered, he had no idea. So saying, sometimes he experienced the same reaction with Uly, and especially with Ryanac. If he managed to make Ryanac lose his self-control, it seemed only fair some part of his body should celebrate it.
Where he stood, shadows swathed the room. As Tressa turned, Markis moved towards her until he was close enough to grasp her by the shoulders. Tressa gave a small cry that sounded like surprise. Giving her no time to resist, Markis dipped his head and nuzzled her hair, and then her neck. The tension in her eased. Tressa softened, leaning her head back, her weight taking her into his embrace. It also put her into contact with the hardness at his groin. At once, Tressa reached for him, but Markis deftly caught her hand, laced her fingers with his, then brought them up to his mouth and kissed them.
“Not tonight,” Markis said, though in truth he didn’t know if he would be able to abide by what he intended. Tressa’s brow drew down in puzzlement. “Let me please you tonight. I have something for you.”
Markis guided Tressa, persuading her deftly into undressing as they moved. As each inch of skin manifested, his eyes feasted, and so did his lips and tongue. He nibbled and licked her elbows, both at the back and in the tender spot of the bend. He sucked her collarbone. He gathered the sweat that had collected between her breasts, and cooled the heat beneath them with his tongue. He bit at her stomach, drawing the soft tissue between his lips. He slathered her hips and kissed her thighs, mouthed the backs of her knees and ran his tongue along the arch of each foot. He made her jump and twitch by turn, but finally she lay on the bed, languid. He kissed away every line of tension but one.
Finally, Markis lay over her and fed from her mouth, his fingers entangling in her hair. When he broke the kiss, she stared up at him, frowning.
“Why do you still have your clothes on? Why are you not naked against me?” A mischievous grin stole over her face. She wiggled her hips. “I can feel you want me.”
He swallowed in order to stifle a groan, and it made his throat hurt. “I told you I have something for you. I want you to just lie back and enjoy it.” He stroked her temples as he said this. Her gaze asked the question. Markis reached for the small box and showed her its contents. He began to explain how and why the Swithin
used the crystals.
While he talked, he removed the crystal from the box, set the box aside, and then turned his full attention to her. Beginning with a gentle stroking, his fingers worked towards probing her sex. When he did, he found her wet. Markis smiled. Despite Tressa’s apparent reluctance, anticipation won out. Azulite women had their toys. Their men just pretended they didn’t; the women hid them so well, they seldom found them. This was a toy they didn’t have. It occurred to him that despite the cost, they could have a new export.
Shaking off the idea, although it had the desired effect of easing his personal discomfort to think of mundane matters, he turned his attention to where she needed it most. Markis couldn’t help it. The sight of her gaping, slick folds made him bite his tongue. He desired to taste her. The moment he did, he lost what little respite he had gained. Lying between her legs, Markis pressed his length into the coverlet. The garments he wore were loose, but still it felt as though he might tear a seam from the pressure of his hard-on alone. He gave himself a mental shake, determined to stick to his plan.
To begin, he held the crystal, letting the vibration pass through his hand into her body to soften the sensation. Still she gasped, all too soon writhing; therefore, he slipped the long, wide crystal into her sooner than he had expected, but she was ready. She tossed her head, clutched at the covers, sent the pillows flying. The moment he added his tongue to the game, Markis sent her over the edge. Tressa squealed without apparent shame. By the time she opened her eyes, her bosom heaved with life, but her gaze and the noises she made remained incoherent, even dazed.
Markis drew the wicked instrument out of her, allowing her respite until she calmed. Finally, her dark eyes moved down until her gaze settled on him. He shook his head, though truly he had no idea if she silently asked a question or pleaded with him to stop.
“We’re not finished yet,” he told her.
Tressa’s eyes widened, but he eased the crystal back into her and began to corkscrew it, pull, and plunge. Her first orgasm had made her sensitive, so he kept away from the most obvious and distended part of her sex, not wishing to cause her pain. When she made a small sound of complaint, he pushed the crystal into her and set his finger behind it, pushing it towards the front. As she fought this new sensation, he reached out and took hold of the second crystal.
The Swithin Chronicles 3: The Comet Cometh Page 10
