by Tony Roberts
She did so, puzzled. His bare chest smelt odd. “Argan – what is that smell?”
“Metila,” he said. “She was using some potion and I was needed to help her. The Governor was there, too.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You will need a wash, Argan.”
“Yes. First though, hold me.” Argan held out his arms.
Amal looked surprised but readily did so, happily letting his arms close around her back and so she was pressed against his chest. “This is nice, Argan – but why?”
He looked down at her face. She only came up to his chin now. He was still growing and she was slowing down. “I want to know how it feels to hold you, how much I like it.”
“I like it, a lot,” she replied, snuggling into him, a big smile on her face. “You’re getting very strong – your muscles are growing.”
Argan stroked her hair and was fascinated by her reaction, a soft purr of pleasure and she pressed her head against him. “Amal, if I asked you to take your clothes off, would you?”
“Yes, Argan – do you wish me to?”
He was momentarily taken aback by her willingness, and then nodded slowly, not wanting to speak in case his voice failed. He stood there spellbound as she unfastened her dress and allowed it to fall down onto the ground, then her chemise followed, and finally her undergarments. There she was, naked, looking at him expectantly.
“You like what you see, my lord?”
Argan nodded again. She was not fully grown, if Metila was the example to follow. There were places she was not as rounded and her breasts were only half grown, but there was a similarity with Metila, definitely. “Turn round, Amal.”
She did so and he went up to her and adopted the same position as earlier with the other woman, and put his arms round her, making sure his arms went under her breasts. He inhaled her hair, and found the scent different. Not unpleasant but not the same. He supposed it was because Amal was not fully grown and did not have that lotion on them.
Amal’s heart raced. This was wonderful. What was this all about? The feeling of his arms about her was so comforting! “My l-lord…I-I….”
Argan kissed her hair. “It’s alright Amal, you don’t have to say anything,” he said, not wishing the moment to pass. “You’re a very special girl to me.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She felt weak, and the room was spinning. This was so unexpected and beyond her dreams. Many nights she had spent on her pallet bed hoping she would be invited to his bed to lie in his arms. True, they had done so on a few occasions, but only when she had felt particularly vulnerable or down. She wanted it every night. There was no thought of sex, for that was not yet part of her, but she yearned for his comforting touch and presence. “Oh… I…”
Argan turned her round and looked into her eyes. She looked up and a thrill ran through him as he saw the same look in her eyes as he’d seen in Metila’s when she had looked at Thetos. She loved him. Truly. He knew it then. His arms crossed over her back and stroked her flesh.
She sighed and arched into him, her eyes shutting. “Oh, Argan, I’ve longed for this.”
He smiled and bent his head, kissing her lips. It just seemed the right thing to do. She kissed him back, gently, slowly, longingly. There was no passion there, just the lingering beauty of love. They looked at one another, smiling, for a while, then he kissed her forehead. “I need that wash. Best get dressed and I’d better get to my lessons or I’ll be for it.”
She looked disappointed; Argan sighed and took her head in his hands. “Later we can be with each other after both of us have done our duties – even a prince has them, just as you have, my Amal.”
She nodded, and smiled at him. “I like you saying that, Lord.”
“I’m alone with you – remember it’s Argan when we are. Saying what?”
“’My Amal’. It makes me feel as if I belong. It’s comforting to me, Argan. A low-born Bragalese girl, belonging to one of the imperial family.”
“You’re no possession – you’re a very dear friend and I do love you.”
She smiled wider and hugged him, her head pressed into his bare chest. “Oh I’ve so wanted to hear you say that to me! Yes, later, and can I be really bold and ask you something really daring?”
“Of course Amal.”
“Can I sleep with you from now on? I want to hold you at night, I want to feel your arms round me, to comfort me, to tell me you love me. It would make me feel so happy, so safe. It’s all I want in my life.”
Argan nodded slowly, stroking her hair. “Yes, Amal, of course you can! It would be so wonderful having someone to hold at night, and to share my bed with. But we shouldn’t let it be known to others – some people can be ever so stuffy about that sort of thing.”
She agreed, and they kissed again, then Argan carried on searching for a suitable tunic. Amal picked one immediately and decided it was right. She got a cloth and washed it in the room’s bowl of water and wiped his skin, taking her time, concentrating on his body, thinking to herself what it would be like as and when she reached her Growing Through moment. Metila had been very precise in her descriptions as to what would happen, even though a Bragalese woman had little control over herself at that time. She would be a demon, possessed by an irresistible urge to couple, mindless of who it was. Argan had already promised he would be with her, and she didn’t wish it to be anyone else.
Having a tutor from the same culture and race there was an immense help; nobody could possibly understand the process unless they had been through it themselves. She cleaned the prince and sniffed. Yes, that was better. He didn’t reek so much of another woman now. Even though she knew it was Metila and therefore not a rival to her, she still felt jealous. If there was to be any woman’s scent on him, then it would her her’s. She still wondered how she would react to Velka Varaz when Argan took her as his bride. The worry was for her that Velka would pressure Argan to get rid of her.
She just hoped he would live up to his promise that he would never get rid of her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Kastan City beckoned to the two riders and their escort. Jorqel reined in and studied the distant towers, domes and rooftops. He was silent for a while, pensive. Vosgaris remained to one side and slightly to the rear, Gavan parallel to him and on the other side. The rest of Jorqel’s personal guard waited obediently behind, twenty of them.
Finally the prince turned and looked at his two immediate companions. “We shall soon arrive at the palace, and on the morrow I and my men will depart by sea for Slenna. Our time with you will be at an end, Commander. There are some things that I must discuss with you – matters of state.” He looked at Gavan. “Take point with two men, ride out ahead. We will walk so there’s no hurry. The rest to keep back out of earshot.”
“Sire,” Gavan saluted and gestured to two of the guards to go with him.
Jorqel looked at Vosgaris. “Commander, walk with me.” They resumed their journey, albeit at a leisurely pace. Up to now Jorqel had been polite, punctilious and proper, but had not been warm or that approachable to Vosgaris, and they had spoken only of trivial matters. Now it seemed Jorqel wanted to change that. He glanced at the silent Vosgaris. “I sense a change in you, Commander. You have been through some ordeal at the hands of my father, have you not?”
“Sire.”
Jorqel noted the tightness in the reply. He pursed his lips, then looked ahead. “Your post in Bathenia is extremely important, and bears a great deal of responsibility. I would be uncomfortable having you there if your – loyalties – are confused. Do not take what my father has done to you too much to heart. He was under the influence of an outside power, as you know, and wasn’t himself.”
Vosgaris nodded. He wasn’t merely antagonistic to Astiras just for that. He wanted Isbel and she wanted him, and the emperor was in the way. His loins ached for her. It was a frustration, and one of the reasons he had thrown himself body and soul into his duties was to try to distract his mind from her
. “Sire, do not worry that I will not serve the empire. My loyalty to Kastania is not in question.”
“I note you did not mention my father, however.”
Vosgaris smiled lop-sidedly. “What would any loyal Kastanian do if the emperor was of harm to the empire? Your father took that action himself, did he not?”
Jorqel stared at Vosgaris. “Are you saying you would kill my father if you thought he was doing harm to the empire?”
“What loyal Kastanian wouldn’t? The Koros have always said they fight for Kastania and against tyranny, so what would the Koros do if one of their number turned bad?”
Jorqel scowled. “You touch on treason.”
Vosgaris snorted. “Treason! The choice again, sire, is to one person or the empire. The Duras and Fokis fell because they put the wealth and comfort of the self before the empire. If your father fell under such a spell again and demanded you fell upon your sword, what would you do? Would you do what your father did, and save the empire from ruin, or allow the empire to fall just so an unfit ruler remained your lord?”
Jorqel’s fingers drummed on his leather riding breeches. “I am not pleased that you would be prepared to betray my father if you felt it necessary to do so.”
Vosgaris shrugged. “I am quite clear in my conscience, sire. I will support you should you become emperor but only if you do what is right for the empire. Do not believe I would follow anyone blindly just because they occupied the throne.”
“And should you believe you are the one to save the empire?”
Now Vosgaris laughed. “Oh, sire, do not fall into the same old trap of thinking anyone opposing a ruler does so only because they covet the throne themselves! You’re welcome to it – and the hazards that come with it.”
Jorqel gave the commander a long, considered look, then halted. Vosgaris did likewise, the guards behind stopping a safe distance away. The prince glanced left and right. “I could have you arrested for such talk, you know. Why speak to me such? Surely you are taking a huge risk.”
The commander waved his left hand idly. “I have been constantly told by those who know you – your sister for one – that you are a fair and just man. You have a reputation of being a thinker, and not prone to irrational acts of passion. Therefore I judged it safe to discuss my feelings to you. I do hold an important position as you said earlier, and if the emperor had not recovered from the hold that these people had over him, and you would have then been forced to take the throne, I would have come to your side with my men. Your father would have had the Army of the East but you would have had the Army of the West and my Bathenian regiments.”
“Even though my father had appointed you to that position?”
“Irrelevant, sire. I would side with whoever I judged was acting in the best interests of Kastania.”
“And if neither were?”
“Then I would have stood aside and finished off whoever survived.” Vosgaris smiled mirthlessly. “I would have backed Prince Elas.”
“Elas!” Jorqel leaned back in his saddle and thought for a moment. “As emperor?”
“What other choice is there at present? Next year Argan comes of age so if it comes to it he would be the one I’d back. He’s a good one, sire, and one whom I’d gladly pledge loyalty to.”
“Would you now? Interesting that he’s Prince of the West, Commander. He would most probably be appointed to Niake to take charge of the very forces you are training up. Would you resent that?”
“Not at all, sire. I’d be happy to serve as one of his generals. But I would ask you this: are you happy to have me where I am, or would you prefer it if Governor Extonos were given the post back?”
Jorqel grunted. “I see. Putting it like that I would prefer you there. I am still doubtful as to your reliability, Commander. I admire your frankness and honesty, and for that I thank you. However, my problem with you is that your judgement is called into question, and by that I mean that you may see some things that I do as being contrary to the best interests of Kastania, even though I may be actually doing the empire a huge service. I would not like to think that should I take one small step that would appear wrong; I’d have you and your regiments marching on me.”
Vosgaris shook his head. “No sire, that I would not do – I wait. One act does not make a man good or bad; rather it is a series of acts. I judge you to be honest, fair and equitable, and as such an emperor – as and when that time comes – to follow and stand alongside, very much as I do now. My only complaint is against your father, but I would not turn against him now as there is little cause for me to do so. Sending me off to Niake is a good thing in many ways.” He looked at Jorqel. “You can count on my regiments to rally to your standard if there be any cause for you to need them.”
Jorqel breathed out in relief. “Then may I ask for your pledge of loyalty, Commander?”
“Insofar as you act in Kastania’s best interests, yes.” He bowed and held up his right hand. “I so swear by the gods that I pledge my loyalty to you, Prince Jorqel Koros of Kastania.”
Jorqel studied his companion, then extended his arm. Vosgaris grasped his forearm and Jorqel did likewise. Then they broke the hold and resumed their walk, the guards setting off, too. “It will be good to see my sister again; she will be very pregnant by now.”
Vosgaris nodded. “She seems to be much happier, sire. I’ve felt at times she’s been seeking something that she can’t find or doesn’t know what it is.”
“I do not know – sadly I have not been that close to her in the recent past. I do hear stories and get letters from various people, but it isn’t the same as seeing it for yourself. Tell me, Commander, you’ve been close to her over this time. Are the stories true about her infidelity?”
Vosgaris looked sharply at Jorqel. What to say? Be honest or lie to cover up for the princess?
Jorqel smiled thinly. “I see – you are loyal to her. Commendable. Do not say anything more, your look told me enough. A man loyal to my dear sister is someone I consider a friend, for I love my sister greatly. Anyone doing her harm would have to answer to me.”
Vosgaris nodded. “She has a number of champions, sire. Myself and Captain Lalaas for two.”
“She does seem to attract men willing to fight for her. She is a striking woman, would you say?”
“Sire – a truly beautiful woman. Your birth mother must have been stunning to look at.”
“My memories of her are vague, but those that knew her said she was an exceptionally attractive woman. Father still cannot bring himself to speak about her without upsetting himself.” He frowned. “And what of my step-mother, the empress? What are your opinions of her?”
Vosgaris sucked on his lower lip. He could hardly say he’d bedded the woman and wanted her right now. “Capable, intelligent, sensible, someone you could rely on. Sometimes too emotional when it comes to Argan and Istan but that’s understandable.”
“And what as a woman?”
“Oh, a bit old for me, sire,” Vosgaris said lightly. “But I can see what your father saw in her. She has a certain charisma.”
“Hmmm,” Jorqel said thoughtfully. “She and I have never been that close. Oh, we’re not in opposition, it’s just that we don’t see eye to eye on many things. Amne does not get on with her either.”
“That is true – I witnessed many disagreements myself. I must say though that I’m far happier out in the provinces away from the palace. The atmosphere there is – thick with intrigue.”
“Something I intend discarding when I take up the throne. Kastania will no longer be an empire ruled by courtiers, but by soldiers.”
Vosgaris pursed his lips. “Dangerous, sire. History tells us when that happens much more powerful rivals tend to rise. If they are courtiers then all you have to worry about are tongues. Warriors tend to have swords and lots of heavily armed retainers.”
“And so do I – and I have your sword, too.”
Vosgaris nodded, smiling. “Prince Elas will support you too, i
f I gauge him correctly, and he has the Kastan City militia and the KIMM. Prince Argan will most likely be with you too, with whatever retinue he commands.”
“And I have both the Army of the West in Lodria and the RIMM on Romos. A formidable array of forces. But yes I understand what you say. Do not worry, I intend keeping my generals firmly under my control. I will though reduce the influence of the Court.”
The walls of Kastan City came into view as they rounded a corner, passing an outcrop of rock. Jorqel waved Gavan and the other scouts to return. “A useful discussion, Commander. I shall keep sending you messages when we both return to our posts – it is important to remain in constant touch. The Tybar may be quiet at present but I do not trust them and we must remain vigilant.”
“Agreed, sire.”
They finished their conversation and once more took up their respective positions and rode to the city. Flags were broken out and the small group of riders rode into the capital, cheered by citizens as they caught sight of the prince. Jorqel waved back, his face smiling. Vosgaris noted he rarely did smile, so it was clearly an image he presented to the populace. They were allowed entry into the stables at the rear of the palace and by then word had reached it that Jorqel was on his way. The KIMM was drawn up in two lines on either side of the wide path, flanking the arriving group.
Jorqel acknowledged their salute and stance and dismounted, taking the obeisance from Deran Loshar and Lalaas. Vosgaris grinned briefly at the captain as he climbed off stiffly. The equines were led off and Jorqel and his party walked towards the entrance into the palace. Lalaas escorted them, leading them to Prince Elas in the main reception room rather than his normal day office. Amne was there too, her belly very swollen.
Jorqel took the bow from the prince and an awkward curtsey from Amne. “Sit, sit,” Jorqel waved to the pair. “Amne, you look very healthy. Pregnancy going well?”
“No – I’m tired of being sick, feeling like I’m overheating, dizziness, backache, looking like a fantor and having skin problems. Argh!”
