House of Lust

by Tony Roberts

  “What of those who gather to his banner, sire? They, too, surely are traitors.”

  Elas inclined his head. “We shall use the KIMM to bring this regrettable campaign to a close. I myself shall command them and deal with the traitor personally. After all, he is trying to usurp me.”

  “Indeed, sire. I shall put the KIMM on full alert in that case. Deran Loshar will know what to do.”

  Elas nodded, then steeped his fingers and placed his elbows on the table top. “Do you trust that man?”

  “Who, sire, Deran Loshar?”

  “Yes.”

  Lalaas shrugged. “I believe so. He had proven loyal to the empire so far, even if he is Tybar. I have no reason to distrust him.”

  “Just ensure he does not suddenly regain his loyalty to the tribes of the Tybar,” Elas said. “Very well, thank you Captain. I shall not keep you any longer.”

  Lalaas saluted and turned about. He knew when Elas was finished speaking to him and would already be returning his attention to his paperwork. The man’s cold manner was off-putting to many, but Lalaas was used to it. He wondered what he was truly feeling about the entire affair; but Elas was an odd fellow. Lalaas wondered if Elas ever suspected that the informant was in fact his own wife, and if he ever did then it would be no great leap of thought to realise why. He wouldn’t find it hard to reason that as she was an adulteress already another affair would be an easy step for her. What her previous affairs had done to their marriage behind closed doors was anyone’s guess, and Amne hadn’t said anything about it. He knew she had nothing but contempt for him anyway, both as a husband and a lover. He shook his head sadly and went back to his duties, checking on the security of the palace one last time before he retired for the night.

  Amne had gone to her chambers, greeting her two daughters, Kola and Stana. Kola was nearly three and very precocious, speaking her mind at all and every occasion, while Stana was quieter and happy to play on her own. She was only one year old so was not fully mobile yet, but could crawl all over the chambers. They had a nurse, a native Kastanian called Benitia, a short, stocky woman with a natural way of dealing with children in a no-nonsense, matter-of-fact way that Amne appreciated. Elas was distant but correct towards her and left any dealings with her to Amne.

  The two girls were almost ready for bed and Amne chatted to both for a while, but Kola was complaining she was tired and was rubbing her eyes a lot, so Benitia took her and readied her for bed. Stana was quietly concentrating on a small wooden block, turning it this way and that, and made little protest when she was picked up and taken to her small bed.

  Amne kissed both goodnight and then made her way deeper into her suite of four rooms. The fourth room, the nursery, had been added after Kola’s birth. Elas didn’t want the girls to be isolated from their mother. It was his belief that a mother should be with her children as much as possible. Amne tended to agree with him although she wished Elas would take a little more interest in his daughters, but that was the man all over. Aloof.

  The princess had two handmaidens, Kiri and Selana, and they knew the daily routine. A bath had been prepared for Amne and the princess peeled off her cloak and strode naked into the bathing chamber and sank gratefully into the warm tub. The palace had piped water, a relic of the days when the empire had been rich and full of innovative engineers. Those days had gone but the engineering projects had by and large remained. As she lay in her bath, she examined her stomach and legs. Her skin had tiny marks on them, stretch marks, a legacy of pregnancy. She sighed. She so wished her skin was as unblemished as it had been before she became a mother, but there was nothing anyone could do about it. She used oils and other natural ointments to try to keep her skin supple and youthful looking, and they did some good. She wondered what Dragan Purfin would have said if he had seen them, but so far they had only met at night away from sight. Some men were very touchy about the women they lusted after; they had an idea of perfection and a little thing like stretch marks sometimes put them off.

  She finished and allowed Kiri to dry her, standing before her bed. Selana readied the oils and Amne lay down on the bed and the two handmaidens began to apply it, rubbing it into every pore. She rolled over and the two women carried on. Amne lay there with her eyes shut, thinking. How she would prefer Lalaas to be administering the oils to her. She wouldn’t be lying there still like she was now. Despite herself, she began to be aroused, something the two servants noted, nudging one another and smiling briefly.

  The door to the outer chamber opened and Elas came in. Kiri and Selana stood up, alarmed. “Oh, ma’am, your husband!” Kiri whispered, and both scuttled away, allowing Elas to stride past them, not acknowledging their curtseys. He had a definite place for each and every person in society.

  “I hear the traitor Purfin is to make his move,” he said coldly. “Please dress; I have no wish to look upon you like this.”

  “Why not?” Amne said in a husky voice. “I’m your wife. I’m yours to ravish. Any other man would. So Dragan is to make his move, is he? He’s a man, I recall from when he came here a little while back. He’d find me desirable, wouldn’t you say?” she said, a challenge in her tone.

  “He’s a fool, and you’re a whore. You disgust me.”

  Amne pouted and rolled off the bed. “My bad luck to be married to the only man in Kastania who does not lust after me.”

  “Don’t be so conceited, Amne. You may think men want you, but it is merely desire to copulate. There’s no love there.”

  “And what of you? You don’t desire me, or like me. I need love.”

  Elas snorted. He passed her a night-dress that was hanging on the bed frame. “I do not like you because you are far too wanton and lustful. It clouds your mind and judgement. However, like you, I am in a marriage not of love, but of convenience. Do not look at your own woes and be so selfish as to think you’re the only one it is happening to. Now, to business. Dragan Purfin.”

  Amne slipped on her night gown, allowing Elas to see her body stretched fully before him. She did it slowly so as to tease him. As it slipped over her neck she tossed her hair and looked at him, still aroused. She would even jump the cold and heartless Elas if given the chance, the way she was feeling. Her nipples were hard as iron and protruded through the fabric of her soft gown. Gods, how she wished he would ease the pent up frustration she was feeling! Just this once, please!

  “Did he indicate when he was going to make his move?” Amne asked with patience.

  “No – Captain Lalaas’ contact has not yet discovered that, but indications are it will be soon.” Elas looked thoughtful.

  “Lalaas’ contact is a whore?” Amne asked, a smile on her face. “If that’s so I’ll wager she must enjoy getting the information from him. Best way, I think.”

  “I’m not interested in the sordid minutiae of the agent’s – methods – in getting information from him. I merely wish for the correct information.”

  Amne considered his words. “So he said soon. Was it inferred I was willing to help in his bid for seizing power? Didn’t we agree that I will obey his wishes and marry him when he kills you? No doubt he would then think my father will be forced to accept him as my new husband and agree to him taking over Frasia.”

  “I must know when, Amne. It is important. I must know in order to strike first. I must know where, and when.”

  “Lalaas’ agent will get him to tell, don’t worry. If he wants proof of my loyalty, then perhaps it would be best if I meet him. Would you be happy with that?” she asked coyly, now trying to appeal to him in a different way.

  “Happy? I have forbidden you from seeing him ever again, and I will never go back on my word. I will be pleased when this whole regrettable matter is concluded.”

  “Oh, Elas, I would be so persuasive – I would even seduce him and convince him of my devotion to his cause. I would be good, too, having him begging me for more once I’ve finished with – “

  Elas swung his hand and slapped her across the fac
e. There was a moment, a heartbeat, of shocked silence, then Amne slowly put her hand to her face, already turning red. Elas fumed, for once his habitual mask of stony non-emotional expression gone. “You have gone too far, Amne. If you were not the mother of my children, I would force you into a temple home for the rest of your life. Be assured, I am going to send to your father a full report of what has transpired, along with my utter disgust at your personal conduct. He is emperor, and what he says goes. Be careful, for you may well discover that whatever favours and love he has for you have vanished through your continuing wanton behaviour. If it pleases him, I shall place you under guard so that you may never go anywhere without an escort. Good evening,” and he stalked out.

  Amne rubbed her face, staring at his back in stunned disbelief. The door shut and she slowly sank down onto her bed. Never in her life before had she been struck like that. She had seen a corner of Elas’ temper lifted briefly and wasn’t sure whether she liked that or not. It proved he had emotions like anyone else, but were they dark and sinister? Was that why he kept such a tight control over himself? Was Amne better off keeping Elas as he was and not risking something awful by forcing him to lose his temper?

  The pain on her face diminished slowly, but her mind was still whirling. She was still sat there when the two handmaidens reappeared. They were concerned as to Amne’s well-being, and she softly reassured them that she was fine.

  She couldn’t settle that night, however, and after a watch had passed she sat up, frustrated. She lit an oil lamp and went to her desk and began writing letters of her own. If Elas could send messages, so could she. There were always two sides to every story, so her father at least ought to read what she had to say. Finally, having written and signed her note, she sealed it.

  Slipping on her cloak, she went to the door, tip-toeing past her sleeping handmaidens. She opened the door a crack and whispered out to the guard on duty to fetch Captain Lalaas. Even though Lalaas would be asleep, Amne needed him.

  It was a little while but Lalaas eventually arrived, entering the chambers without knocking. He made his way past the sleeping Kiri and Selana, and shut the inner door behind him. The sleeping chamber was still lit, faintly, so he could see Amne sitting on her bed, looking a little vulnerable. She was only wearing her night gown, and smiled as he appeared.

  “Please sit next to me,” she whispered.

  Lalaas did so and looked at her, not saying anything. He saw the faint marks on her cheek, unmistakably fingers, and guessed what had happened. He traced them, his finger just touching her skin, a mere breath of sensation. Amne looked up at him, her eyes watering. Without a word, he took her in his arms and she buried her face in his chest. They lay down and she snuggled into him, feeling more secure and protected. She didn’t weep, she didn’t want to. All she wanted was to feel this man’s arms around her, and a great weight lifted from her.

  Lalaas felt her settle against him. He reasoned she would now sleep in his embrace, and contented himself by stroking her hair for a few moments, then put his mouth close to her ear. “You can rest now, Amne, I’m not going anywhere tonight.”

  Her arms squeezed him in response, and a huge breath escaped her. “I only want you, Lalaas, I want you, I so want you. I promise I would never be with anyone else if you were mine.”

  Lalaas realised with a start that Amne’s loose behaviour was a substitute for his love, his physical presence, his union with her. “I can’t, Amne, you know that. If you were nobody’s, then perhaps I would, but you would have to give up being a princess. You know the law.”

  Amne nodded, another sigh passing her lips. “My children would have to give up their claims on the throne, too. I couldn’t do that, not until they are grown up and have their own claims to follow.”

  “Then you understand why I do not. It would be so much easier if we were of the same social position. But here we are, and I will not dishonour you or your children – or myself.”

  Amne clutched the captain. “I understand. But I will always love you, Lalaas. Stay with me tonight – please.”

  “I’ve already said I’m going nowhere. Now sleep – you need it.”

  Amne looked up at him, smiled, closed her eyes again and rested her head against his chest. He lay there for a while, thinking hard, until her breathing deepened and became regular. He waited a little longer, until he was sure she would not be woken, and gently disengaged his arms and rolled off the bed. He stared down at her, then pulled the bed sheets over her body. He kissed her head, blew out the lamp, and slowly made his way out to the corridor once more.

  The guards stood to attention, staring ahead. “The prince and princess had an argument, lads?”

  “Aye, sir. Nothing new though.”

  “No, I suppose not. Keep things to yourselves; we don’t want anyone knowing about all this if we can help it. Doesn’t do any good.”

  “Sir.”

  Lalaas nodded and made his way back to his own quarters.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Vosgaris was ordered the next morning to accompany the emperor on equine-back to tour the immediate environs of Zofela. He left his wife Alenna to sift through the latest paperwork in her office and reported to the stables where Astiras and three guards were waiting. Astiras was curt and said little else other than to greet him and to command him to mount up.

  Vosgaris assumed the emperor was still in a foul mood because of the strain between him and the empress, something he’d noticed even though both had been the perfect couple throughout the celebrations. Astiras pointedly stayed off the alcohol and Isbel, once the social rounds had finished, had sat down away from Astiras and had said little.

  Many hadn’t noticed and were still sleeping off their hangovers. Vosgaris, as security chief, had abstained, and had gone to bed once the imperial couple had gone. Teduskis, the right-hand man of Astiras, was not there either, and it was possible he was worse for wear.

  They rode out of the castle into the streets of Zofela. The debris of bunting, stalls and flowers littered the place. They could have ridden in either of two directions to get out of the town, and Astiras indicated for the riders to take the north route towards the Frasian Gate. They followed the line of the outer wall, keeping in its shadow from the rising sun, before turning left and taking the road that ran behind the north wall. The gate loomed before them and Astiras waved to the guards to raise the portcullis.

  Once outside, Vosgaris waited for the emperor to say something. Instead, he led the others down the long, wide slope that went from the gatehouse to the plains outside. Not wanting to look on the stern visage of his lord, Vosgaris took a long look at the peaks of the mountains and rises that bordered the valley in the distance. They were rounded, softer versions of the peaks that lay to the south.

  They walked slowly away from Zofela, until the emperor stopped. There was silence, save for the sounds of the avians seeking food and flying back to their nests. It was the time their eggs hatched and the little creatures would be busy now for the season.

  “Wait here,” Astiras said to the three guards. He looked at Vosgaris. “You will accompany me, Captain.”

  With a thudding heart Vosgaris followed, wondering what in the name of the gods was going to happen. He could almost see the black thundercloud floating directly above the emperor’s head.

  After a few moments Astiras stopped once more and turned to face the rising sun. He shut his eyes and breathed in deeply. Vosgaris waited patiently. He glanced back to where the three guards remained, well out of earshot.

  “Captain,” Astiras finally said. “There is a very serious matter which I must speak to you of.” He regarded the younger man seriously, his lined face showing weariness and, to Vosgaris’ surprise, sadness. “I have to ask you firstly, do you know the cause of the – distance – between the empress and myself?”

  “No, sire. I assume it’s a domestic matter and nothing to concern myself, or anyone else.”

  Astiras snorted, a half-smile crossing hi
s face for a moment. “Very well. But before I tell you, I must order you to never reveal this to anyone. Anyone, you understand? Or else I shall personally remove your balls and feed them to you.”

  Vosgaris shivered. “I understand sire, and you have my word.”

  “Hmm. So. I have been – indiscreet.”

  “Sire?”

  “Oh, for Kastan’s sake, man, I’ve fucked about. And now the empress has found out.”

  “Ah.”

  “’Ah’? Is that all you have to say, Captain?”

  Vosgaris thought rapidly. “I don’t think there’s much else to add to that, sire. I assume it means the marriage is in trouble?”

  “Something like that, yes. That does not concern you, though. I shall endeavour to work on making things good with the empress. My charge to you is to find out who informed her of it.” He tugged out a folded sheet of parchment and passed it over to Vosgaris. “Read it and let me have your thoughts on who you think it could be.”

  Vosgaris opened it and scanned the message. To the Empress Isbel Koros it began. Your husband Astiras Koros has been voluntarily carrying on an affair with the Bragalese woman Metila, slave of Thetos Olskan of Turslenka. He had been doing so for a few years. The Governor Thetos Olskan knows of it and permits it.

  “Well?” Astiras said sharply.

  “Well written, unsigned, of course, fluent Kastanian. Educated, trained in calligraphy, too. Metila – she saved Argan’s life, didn’t she?”

  “Yes. That witch seduced me the first time, using some potion. I was a man possessed and couldn’t help myself. But after that….” He shook his head. “I couldn’t stop thinking of her. She’s an irresistible sexually desirable woman. I have to go to Turslenka occasionally to satisfy my lust. She’s done something to me. And there’s something else.”

  “Oh?”

  Astiras gently thumped his pommel. “I have fathered a child with her.”

  Vosgaris sat with his mouth open for a moment. “Oh, no.”