House of Lust

by Tony Roberts

  The walls of Turslenka seemed in fair condition, Vosgaris mused as he rode slowly up to the wide gate, guarded as it was by two towers. Guards stood ready at the entrance, the portcullis raised behind them. They seemed smart and attentive enough, but were they professional or lax?

  He came to a halt and was challenged, as was expected. He produced a scroll and passed it to one of the guards. “Captain Vosgaris, Zofela Imperial Guard, on the emperor’s business. I need to see the governor.”

  The guards looked at one another in surprise. One of them bowed and passed into the city through the gateway, clearly referring the situation upwards. Vosgaris sat patiently for the moment, looking at both Arkanin and Hendros, but both displayed no emotion, stolidly waiting for an event or order.

  Footsteps broke through Vosgaris’ contemplations and he turned back to see the guard returning with an officer, an under-captain, the most junior of officers in the Kastanian army, commonly referred to as a lieutenant. “Good morning, ah, Captain,” he began, smiling widely to reassure his important visitor. “This is indeed an unexpected but pleasant surprise. How may I be of service to you?”

  “I am here to see Governor Olskan. Please provide me with an escort to the governor’s residence. Those orders you have there are for his eyes only, signed and sealed by the emperor.”

  The lieutenant looked at the scroll as if it had suddenly sprouted there, then hastily handed it back to Vosgaris. “Of course, sir!” He barked at two men standing on the other side of the gate, and they stepped out ready to lead Vosgaris and his two men into Turslenka.

  The two officers saluted one another and then Vosgaris led the other two under the gatehouse into the paved streets of Turslenka. Most of the walls were still of wood, he noted, and so would not repel any determined attack. Kastan City, Zofela, Slenna and Niksos were the only places he could think of that had stone as the norm. The empire was still vulnerable to anyone who had the force to back up any great ambition against it.

  The road ran in between two rows of houses, an array of differing sizes and shapes, and it wound gently first to the right, then the left. Some repair work was going on which Vosgaris noted. That was a good sign. After going up a slight hill they levelled out and emerged onto the main square. This was evenly paved and the governor’s residence loomed on the far side.

  Vosgaris thanked and dismissed the two guards from the gatehouse and went up to the gated entrance of the residence. Two more guards stood to attention, and Vosgaris dismounted and introduced himself.

  In a short time indeed he was sat in Thetos’ room, the governor and the notorious slave girl Metila standing to his right and slightly behind. Both Arkanin and Hendros were comfortably settled in a small barracks, and the equines were stabled. The captain studied Metila. Yes, she was an attractive woman, not the most beautiful he had ever seen, but there was something about her that drew attention. She had that – lusty demeanour – that pulled men towards her. The promise of sex, and damned good sex at that, oozed from her. He could understand why Astiras had succumbed to her will, especially if it had, as the emperor had stated to him, been embellished with potions and lotions. He’d had no resistance to the girl’s advances. Metila returned his look with a neutral if slightly arrogant stare.

  He looked away from her. “Governor, this is from the emperor, for your eyes only.” He passed the scroll to the one-handed governor.

  Thetos smiled behind his bushy, grey-flecked beard. “Metila is my confidante, administrator, advisor and everything. A slave she may be, but she knows more than any other slave does.”

  Vosgaris shrugged, and caught sight of Metila’s slight smile. It sent shivers up his spine. By the gods! She’s getting me excited even at this distance! Vosgaris watched as Thetos flicked the seal open with one hand and began reading the ink. His eyes widened and he looked up at the captain for a moment, then resumed reading. Finally he sat back and blew hard. “Well that’s fucked everything up, hasn’t it?” he declared. He looked up at Metila. “Some Kivok has found out about you and the emperor and is announcing it to anyone who wants to listen. It’s caused a right old stir in Zofela.”

  Metila looked shocked, then hurriedly looked at the captain. “What they say?”

  Vosgaris pointed at the scroll. “Whatever is written there, but I don’t know what it says.”

  Thetos hummed to himself, re-reading it. “The emperor commands that the Captain here is given full backing in looking into the source of the leak, and there are two families here who are under suspicion. I am to give the Captain every resource in order for him to carry out his duties. Nothing much else, Metila. Just that someone in Zofela got to hear of the three times you and the emperor had a liaison. He or she is using it to undermine the Koros regime.”

  “Who else knew other than you two and the emperor?” Vosgaris asked.

  “Only General Teduskis,” Thetos said. “I told no-one. We had tight security on those occasions.” He looked up at Metila. “Nobody else knew, did they?”

  “No, not even Empress. You know who told?” she asked Vosgaris.

  “No,” Vosgaris lied. It was clear where the initial leak had come from, but now he wanted to find out which of the two suspects he was chasing, the Anglis or Mirrodan, had been told and was spreading the fact for their own purpose. “I must visit the homes of both the Anglis and Mirrodan as soon as possible and ask them a number of questions. Can you tell me when this would be possible?”

  Thetos rubbed his chin. “Hmmm. The Mirrodan won’t be a problem – they are in town. The Anglis are not here at present, Lord Anglis is up in Zofela, funnily enough, and the rest are at their country estate outside town.”

  “Can you arrange a visit to both? I need to do this fairly quickly, as the emperor has asked me to get to the source of the trouble as fast as possible, and he’s not one to disappoint, is he?”

  Thetos grunted. “No he is not. Very well, leave that to me.” He turned to Metila. “Show the Captain to a room, you witch.”

  “You order, I obey,” Metila said huskily. She pushed away from Thetos’ side and stood over Vosgaris. “You come.”

  The captain heaved himself up out of his chair. “My belongings?”

  “Metila will take care of that, too,” Thetos waved the issue away irritably, as if such things were beneath him. “They are with your equine, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Metila, you know what to do then,” Thetos said.

  “Yes, I fetch.” She opened the door and waited until Vosgaris passed her before following. She came alongside and pointed to a door along the passageway on the other side. “You will stay there. I go fetch your pack.”

  Vosgaris let himself in while the slave girl went the other way. The room was furnished, and reasonably comfortable, with a slightly worn rug in the centre of the room, a bed with a straw mattress and clean sheets and a couple of chests and a stand for clothing. Vosgaris grunted. It would do. The single window looked out onto Turslenka’s houses. He was still looking out over them when Metila returned with his pack, and dropped it onto the floor by the door.

  Vosgaris gave her a surprised look. She stood there daring him to say something. “I hope nothing is broken,” he said.

  “I will speak to you.” She walked past and stood by the bed. “Did letter say anything else?”

  “Not about your child, no,” Vosgaris said. “It would seem whoever is spreading the fact you and the emperor have had an affair does not know about your child.”

  Metila stood for a moment and thought about that. “Only he, you and me know. Thetos not know, I not want him to know.”

  “I understand.”

  Metila stepped up to Vosgaris. The scent of her filled the captain’s senses. “I not nice if I angry,” she said in a deep, husky voice. “I very nice if you please me,” she said, pressing herself against him.

  Vosgaris recalled the warning not to let her get close to him but that was no good here and now. He felt his mind spinning and th
e growing excitement in his loins. Metila ran her hand over his manhood and smiled, her mouth parting. “You want Bragalese slave love?”

  “Uhh…”

  “I show,” she whispered and knelt before him, unfastening his breeches. Suddenly his lower parts were exposed to the air, and that delicious feeling of a woman’s mouth closing over his swelling rolled over him. She sucked and licked and Vosgaris couldn’t stop her pleasuring him. She withdrew and looked up at him. “You want better?”

  “Ahh…” he nodded.

  She smiled, slipped off her lower clothing and turned round, ending up on all fours. “Take me,” she commanded. “Hard.”

  Vosgaris couldn’t stop himself; his head was full of lust and he knelt behind her, then penetrated her hard. Metila gasped and then coo-ed in pleasure. “Yes you give hard!”

  Vosgaris was a man possessed, the waves of hot pleasure that rippled through his body and mind were like nothing he had felt before when making love to a woman. Was this typical of a Bragalese woman? He didn’t know. He thrust hard into her for a long while, before climaxing with a deep groan and gasp. Metila remained on all fours for a while, her eyes closed, a smile on her face. Then, suddenly, she got up.

  “You good. Me help you. I come later. You wait here, more love. I want.”

  Vosgaris sat on the bed alone, wondering just what in the name of the gods had happened. Had he dreamed it or had he actually rutted with that exciting woman? He guessed it hadn’t been a dream. It was too vivid and his body was still coming down off the high. With a groan of reluctance he got up, cleaned himself, redressed and then went to his pack. He had to get himself organised.

  He just hoped to the heavens that nobody found out he had coupled with that girl. What would Alenna do if she found out? He was filled with guilt – but he hadn’t been able to do anything to stop that woman from seducing him. What was it she had? Had she cast a spell over him? He sat and thought over it for a time, then knew he had to do something to take his mind off Alenna and the possibility Metila had bewitched him.

  He located a small table in one corner and dragged the one chair in the room over to it and began examining the parchment he had with the known details of the Anglis and Mirrodan Houses.

  The Anglis were one of the long established families in Kastania. They had risen over the years to prominence, not quite at the top but not far off. Based in Makenia now, they had formerly been landowners further east where they had owned extensive farms and had many tenants which was where a lot of their wealth had come from. They had supplied the empire with many generals in the past although currently they were out of favour, not having had any army commanders over the past twenty to thirty years or so.

  The Mirrodan were relatively new, only having come to notice in the last two generations. It was still unclear as to how they had managed to amass enough wealth to buy houses and land, since they had no pedigree and hadn’t married into wealth either. One rumour was that they had been fishermen from Pelponia who had lucked in when a ship had foundered and been dashed ashore on the coast where they had been fishing. The wreck had been carrying some valuable cargo and the family had used it as a basis for getting away from their basic lives and had become land owners.

  Whatever the truth of their origins, they had in a short time propelled themselves up into the minor nobility, and although the traditional Houses looked down on them and regarded them as vulgar newcomers with no class, they had enough money to attract plenty to them for whatever reason, and they had quite a fair bit of support. Their factional alignment was still unknown; would they be in the army camp, or the merchant’s? Would they support spending on defence, or trade? Were they supporters of the Temple? Would they follow the Koros, the Fokis or another of the leading Houses? Would they set themselves up as a new power in Kastania? That would be something to watch, as that could upset the checks and balances amongst the Council.

  Vosgaris pondered on the variables for a time. The Anglis were a family who had never been at the top but had been very careful whom they had supported in the past, making sure they were never amongst those who were disgraced and disadvantaged in any change in power. They were in the middling range of Houses, rich enough to be taken note of but not at the top so they were not seen as leaders of any given faction. The top factions always vied for the support of houses like the Anglis, so they had quite a bit of political clout.

  He would have to be careful with both but for different reasons. As a member of the Taboz family, he would have some rank with them – not as high as the Anglis but higher than the Mirrodan.

  He was still putting his plans together on how to speak to both when Metila returned. Vosgaris went on his guard at once, watching her carefully as she shut the door and came across to him. She was holding something in her hands, an object underneath a small green cloth. “What is that?” he asked, momentarily forgetting her powers.

  “Good plant,” she said, placing the object on the small table and taking the cloth off. Vogaris saw it was a small brass bowl and within it was a small amount of some kind of dried plant, a couple of twigs and crushed leaves. He got a whiff of something spicy from it.

  “What is this for?”

  “Best love,” she said and slipped off her clothing. She stood naked there, quite brazenly. She smiled, with a touch of arrogance that said everything to Vosgaris. She had control over him and both knew it.

  “Why? Do you do this to every male visitor?”

  Metila stopped in the act of fumbling for a small vial of a liquid in one of her tunic pouches. “No! You think I some kind of whore? I not sleep around like some!”

  Vosgaris resisted the urge to laugh cynically. It seemed odd coming from someone like her. “Then why me?”

  “Ah, you think you not special? Maybe not normal times. You know secret, I love with you to keep you loyal to me, yes?”

  “You mean – to make sure I tell nobody about your child, you seduce me and make me have sex with you?”

  Metila’s eyes narrowed, then she laughed briefly. “You Kastanian – no understand Bragal ways.” She placed the vial on the table and looked at him, kneeling down. Vosgaris’ eyes roved over her smooth skin, the pert breasts, the narrow hips. There was no real evidence of having had a child. She tutted. “Long ago, Bragal men treat women like slaves, like animals. They beat, have many wives. Lots of fights. Then Bragal women learn to be good at love, to make men want them more for love. We then control men with love.”

  Vosgaris sat back and thought on that. “You mean…. through the act of sex, the art of lovemaking, you could guide men’s behaviour?”

  “Not in all things, but in behaviour towards women at first. Women became leaders in house, no do things in house, no love. Beat women, no love. Men who no beat women had more women.”

  “How did that stop the fighting?”

  “It did not, but over years Bragal villages came to agreements. Husband and wife love, if woman beaten or not like husband she leave and love another. Stay married to husband but allowed to love others.”

  “Sounds complicated,” Vosgaris said, frowning. “So what skills did the women learn?”

  “Good love making, good use of plants, make love making better! Women became so good it became normal in all Bragal women.” Metila smiled. “Some had good knowledge of plants and so became Okloka.”

  “Okloka?”

  “What you Kastanians call witches. Okloka know all potions, plants. Knowledge passed down to a few. We use natural love knowledge and knowledge of plants together! Powerful. People fear.”

  “I see,” Vosgaris said. “And you use this power over me.”

  “Yes. You easy.”

  Vosgaris sighed. “I guessed as such. To a witch like you it must have been almost child’s play.”

  “Child’s play? Easy, yes. You not strong. You easy controlled. I make you desire me very much.”

  “Yes I remember I did – I wanted you very much. How did you do that?”

 
“Secret. Like this,” she pointed at the bowl. “I add liquid to plant in there, give off smoke, we both want each other very much. Very good love.”

  “What? You’re going to use a spell?” Vosgaris backed away, aghast.

  Metila laughed. “Oh, you silly like most Kastanians. Superstitious. You no turn into herd beast, you enjoy very much. Make body desire love lots. Best love making. Promise.”

  “A love potion?” Vosgaris’ heart was pounding away, through a mixture of fear and curiosity. “Is it dangerous?”

  “No, it safe, I use many times. Like it lots,” she smiled widely. “Make mind have no fear.”

  Vosgaris stared at the inert bowl. Then he looked up at Metila. “You said I was weak; what do you mean by that? I’m a soldier!”

  “Ah, not weak in body; weak in mind. You not strong like Thetos, he strong man, like Landwaster – he strong mind. Bragal women like strong mind. Kastanian young men all weak mind, too much worry about hurting people. Pah.”

  “Um, you mean, considerate? Thoughtful?”

  “No, ruthless, strong minded. Not bad ruthless, good ruthless.”

  Vosgaris was fully confused. “Now I’m lost.”

  “You not worry. You take clothes off and breathe in smoke.” She opened the vial and dropped a small amount of the liquid into the bowl. Almost at once there came a crackling sound and a thick, grey smoke began flowing up into the air. Metila put the vial out of the way and knelt before the bowl, then bent her head towards it and inhaled deeply through the nose, tipping her head back, eyes closed, and a wide smile spread across her face. “Ahhh! Good! I like!”

  Vosgaris watched fascinated as she breathed in again and her face began to take on the look of a woman locked in passion, and her nipples hardened, and sweat began to break out over her body. “Ooh, you get clothes off now or I rip them off.”