Eielawyn [The Maidens of Mocmoran 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Wynette Davis

  Raenos sat in stunned silence. He swallowed hard, and then coughed to clear the frog in his throat. “H-how sure are you?”

  Shahneeris turned to look directly at him. “I was at the top of my class before I changed my major. I was the top. By looking at the symbols, and without being able to take my time to study and denote the subtle differences? I’m still ninety-eight percent sure that your mother has Mocmoran vaedra in her blood. And I’m also sure that it’s why you didn’t pass out after cumming.”

  “Shit,” he said softly.

  “If I were you, I’d be contacting my mother,” she said, starting the car before driving back down the winding road in the way they’d come.

  * * * *

  She could feel the slight chill in the air, as she walked home from the dance. Djee was coming to an end. Soon, guimith would surround them in its brisk morning air and chilly nights to remind them all that talal was to follow. But talal was her favorite time of year. In some years—those hard years—there would be snow. It promised to be one of those years, which was why it was so necessary to move Filkothinor from the cave.

  She wrapped her arms around herself, oblivious to her surroundings. She knew her way home blindfolded. It came from living in Yaesdrah. The town was large enough to contribute to the realm through fishing and shipping revenues, yet small enough to lend a homey and secure atmosphere. It was that security that let her walk home alone at night without fear of any danger. But Yaesdrah was no longer the secure, homey, small town it once was. There were strangers in town under the guise and promise of safety.

  She absently turned down the bend near the beach that led to her small cottage, running into someone head-on. “Oh!”

  She stared up to see Zhoardaeash’s sneer above her. “Out late, I see,” he said.

  Eielawyn glanced around to see if he was with any of his guard cronies. “Yeah,” she said, trying to walk around him and get into her house.

  He grabbed hold of her by the arm. “Not so fast, bitch. There’s a curfew on, you know?”

  She looked down to where he was holding her arm. “The curfew was lifted for tonight because of the dance. Move out of my way,” she said, pulling her arm free of his grasp and trying to walk around him again.

  “Maybe it was,” Zhoardaeash grinned. “Maybe it wasn’t. Seeing as I’m a royal guard, it’s up to me to say whether or not you’re breaking curfew. And…” He closed the small distance between them, pulling her close to his body. “Maybe I say you’re in violation of the curfew.”

  Fear creeped up her back. Something told her that he meant to do more than charge her with violating the curfew that was lifted for that night. “Then charge me,” she said, looking up at him. She took a step back, but he pulled her roughly by the arm, making her body slam up against his.

  “No. You need to be taught a lesson, bitch.” His fingers slowly traced down her arm, as he stared down at her bosom. His tongue came out to lick across his lips, as she felt the pain of his fingers digging into her flesh. “You need to be taught how to respect the guard.”

  She glanced around her, hoping someone—anyone—would come along. He was at least a foot taller than she was, and more than likely outweighed her by eighty pounds. “Y-y-you don’t have to do this.”

  His face came within an inch of hers. “I fuckin’ hate you, cunt!” he growled. “I hate all of you Mocmoran whores thinking you’re too good to fuck a real man. Do you honestly think you’re so special? Yeah,” he sneered, as she tried to turn her face away from him. “I saw that fuckin’ asshole, Raenos, go into your shop. You fucked him, didn’t you? You spread your fuckin’ legs for a half-breed piece of shit like him and look down your nose at me. Highborn! I’m going to show you what it’s like to have a real man fuck you, bitch!”

  She yelled out as Zhoardaeash grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her down the pathway and into a small alley to the side of her house. She kicked at him and yelled as loud as she could before he covered her mouth with his hand. She couldn’t think. The only thing she could think about was keeping that prick’s prick out of her. It was when she felt the most vulnerable that her gifts—her abilities—failed her. She tried to focus on him, but all of her energy went to fighting him off. And she did fight. She bit his hand covering her mouth, which only made him slap her across the face. Focus, she told herself. But it was then that she felt him trying to force her legs open, and his other hand started to pull at her dress.

  But it suddenly stopped, as something pulled Zhoardaeash off her. She only heard the scuffle, as her tears blinded her. Someone was beside her, helping her up. She glanced to her side noticing a woman she’d never seen before. She was a large woman with more muscles than she’d ever seen on a female before, but strikingly gorgeous. Her hair was styled in several braids adorned with silver jewelry. The woman led her to stand to the side away from the two men fighting in the brush.

  “You’ll fuckin’ pay for this, Raenos!” said Zhoardaeash, as he wiped away the trickle of blood from his mouth. “She was in violation!” Zhoardaeash pointed an accusing finger at Eielawyn. “I was taking her in to be questioned. She was out after curfew.”

  “Bullshit!” Eielawyn yelled. “He was trying to rape me!” Her anger welled up inside of her, threatening to overwhelm her. She was able to focus finally. And she focused her thoughts on Zhoardaeash. No longer having to focus her energy on preventing him from raping her, she was clear to suggest on him.

  Zhoardaeash suddenly frowned as he walked over to a small bench on the side of the pathway and sat down. Taking out his knife tucked into the side of his waist, he held the knife, placed his other hand on the surface of the bench, and began to stab his hand repeatedly. Blood spurted out with each movement, but Zhoardaeash remained as calm as if he were cutting an onion.

  The woman beside her gasped. “What the fuck?” she yelled.

  Raenos started to go to Zhoardaeash, but stopped in his tracks, glancing over at her. She stared back at him, and could almost see the comprehension in his face, that he knew she was doing it.

  “Get her into the transport!” Raenos said following them, as he looked back at Zhoardaeash continuing to stab into his hand.

  Eielawyn walked with the woman, seeing the large transport haphazardly parked by the pathway with the headlights illuminating the path and to some extent the alley next to her house.

  “No,” Eielawyn said. “My house is right over there.” She nodded to the small cottage to the left of the transport.

  The three of them made their way to the cottage, as Eielawyn opened the door. “Please, come in.”

  Raenos continued to stare at her. “Are you all right? Did he…?”

  Eielawyn shook her head, closing the door behind Raenos. “No. He didn’t, thanks to you.” She turned to the woman standing awkwardly in her living room. “Thank you. We haven’t met. I’m Eielawyn, clan of Nelglis.”

  The woman gave her a genuine smile. “Shahneeris, daughter of Linsthaeahboe. I’m glad we came along at the right time. Um…I know you’re Mocmoran. I can see that, but…are you vaedra?”

  Eielawyn could feel Raenos’ eyes on her. But when their eyes met, it wasn’t judgment that she saw, but understanding. “Yes. I am. As a vaedra, I have certain gifts. Powers. I wasn’t able to focus on Zhoardaeash while he was attacking me, but—”

  “Enough said,” Shahneeris said to her. “I doubt that piece of shit will be able to hold his dick to piss after this.”

  She felt Raenos’ hand at the small of her back and looked up at him. “I was angry. It was only supposed to be one time. I wanted him to stab his hand once, but I was so angry. But thank you again.”

  Shahneeris’ gazed traveled between Raenos and Eielawyn. “Well, um…I have to get the transport back to camp for…um…for—”

  “For the count?” Raenos said, nodding to Shahneeris before turning his attention to Eielawyn. “We kind of took the transport without formal permission.”

  “Yeah,” Shahneeris sa
id. “I needed to vent to my boy here. Personal shit,” she said with a laugh. “So, I guess you can walk back into town and get a ride from one of the guards, if you want to make sure she’s okay. Right?”

  Eielawyn couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up inside of her. Raenos and Shahneeris stared at her as if she’d lost her mind, considering the situation she’d just been through she might have. “Sorry,” she said. “But you’re struggling to give him a signal that you’re leaving so he can be alone with me, and I’m sorry for doing it, but your thoughts were saying he better fuck me or you will. Thanks. I appreciate the compliment,” she laughed aloud again.

  “Your gifts are reading thoughts and suggestion,” said Shahneeris. “Well, I mean it. So, I’m going to leave you two alone to…talk.”

  The awkward silence that remained after Shahneeris left made her feel like she was left alone with Coliafaedor after the middle school dance. “D-d-do you want anything to drink?” she asked, walking toward the kitchen.

  Raenos touched her gently on the arm, and she turned to look up into his eyes. “I do want to talk to you,” he said. “I need to apologize for the way I stormed off earlier. I don’t—didn’t—I didn’t understand what a vaedra was, or what gifts of a vaedra were. Shahneeris explained it to me.”

  She nodded, walking over to her small loveseat on the far wall to sit down. “Yeah, she seems to know a lot about vaedra.”

  Raenos nodded. “I can’t lie. You freaked me out, Eielawyn. I’ve been up close and personal with a lot of supernatural—”

  “I’m not supernatural,” she interrupted. “I’m just vaedra. I have gifts—”

  “Powers,” he interrupted her then. “They’re powers. You can read people’s thoughts, and make them do things. That’s supernatural.”

  “You’re making me sound like some kind of witch or creature. I’m human, Raenos!”

  He seemed to think about what he was saying. Taking a deep breath, he softened his expression, as he gazed over to her. “I know you are. That’s not what I was trying to say. Being with you—no—I wasn’t just with you. I made love to you.” He walked closer to where she sat on the loveseat. “That isn’t something I do every day, Eielawyn. I wasn’t just getting my dick wet.”

  “Thanks,” she said derisively. “I appreciate that.”

  He took another deep breath. “I’m not saying any of this right. I thought you’d used something on me to make it so…so fuckin’ pleasurable.”

  Eielawyn shook her head. “I’m vaedra, Raenos, but I can’t make sex any more than it’s supposed to be. I released my aura. I can’t explain what it is exactly, but think of it as an enhancement. If a connection is there, my aura surrounds the two of us and heightens our pleasure.”

  “And I was supposed to pass out.”

  She wasn’t prepared to tell him her entire sexual history. She wasn’t ashamed of it, but some men dreamt of sex with a vaedra. They had fantasies of having the unbridled, carnal, erotic sex with a woman that could unleash the hidden sensual and uninhibited part of sex they secretly craved and wanted a woman to be. They all wanted that, but they didn’t want to take that same woman home to meet the parents. That was reserved for the meek, timid virgin that they all married.

  “It’s happened every other time,” she said, staring unwaveringly at him.

  He seemed to think about what she said. He was still standing in front of her, not taking a seat as she’d done. “I’m not about to ask you how many that is, since you are vaedra.”

  “So, because I’m vaedra, you’re assuming I’ve been with thousands of men?”

  He suddenly looked afraid, shaking his head. “No. No…I…shit, that’s not what I meant.” He grimaced. “That’s a lie. That is what I thought. But I don’t need to know about your sexual history, Eielawyn. That’s all I’m trying to say. I don’t have any right to ask about any other man you’ve been with. I don’t know you. You don’t know me.”

  “No, I don’t,” she said softly, looking down at her rough-hewn wood floor. “I never thought I would say this, but I want to get to know you, Raenos. And I don’t say that to many royal guards.”

  He smiled and laughed softly. “Then maybe we should take the time to get to know each other.” He sat down in the chair next to the sofa.

  Their eyes connected, as they gazed at each other. She nodded to him. “Get to know each other. Yeah, I’d like that.”

  Raenos sat back into the chair, as they began to talk. Not sex. They’d already discovered that part of each other. This was a deeper connection. It was that one step that they’d skipped over, and she was happy to retrace those steps with him.

  Chapter Nine

  “You lied to me!”

  Balaedras sat unmoving on her throne, staring unflinchingly at King Dothmeadon standing in front of her. The jowls of his face shook with each word he spoke. His anger didn’t worry her. Neither did the fact that she’d made promises to him that she had no intention of keeping. He was a chess piece. And if he were too naïve and too stupid to believe that she loved him and would make him her king, then…checkmate.

  “Yes,” she said slowly, smiling confidently down at him. “I did. But you, Dothmeadon, your ignorance is solely on you. Did you actually believe that a few whispered moments and a couple of blowjobs meant I was in love with you?”

  “I-I-I signed over my realm to you,” said Dothmeadon, as he stared straight ahead of him in stunned acknowledgment of his actions. A small line of drool began to fall from his lips, suspended in midair, as he remained slack jawed. “My…my wife. My people,” he whispered. “I’ve betrayed them over you.”

  “Yes,” Balaedras agreed. “Pity. But it was all perfectly legal. You signed the contract, Dothmeadon. Jroan is mine.”

  Dothmeadon began to look around the throne room at the guards standing at attention along the perimeter. “No! No, I won’t let you take my kingdom without a fight, Balaedras! I’ll die before I let you do to Jroan as you’ve done to Drisa.”

  “Oh, good,” she said as if she were soothing a small child afraid of the dark. She nodded to one of the guards to her right. “I was so afraid we wouldn’t see eye to eye on this.”

  The female guard walked over to where Dothmeadon stood glaring up at Balaedras, took the knife from her side sheath, and as Dothmeadon started to protest, she slit his throat. Dothmeadon’s hand went to his neck as if he were trying to stop the steady spurt of blood shooting through his fingers. He fell to the floor, gasping at the empty air with one hand, with his other still protectively at his throat, and died.

  Balaedras stood up from her dais and walked down to stand near Dothmeadon’s body, careful not to have the hem of her dress bloodied in the process. “I suppose I could have done all of this in Jroan, but he was insistent to see me.” She turned to smile at the nearest guard. “Well, he saw me. Take his body to Poliapoth, the royal butcher. He knows what to do. I’m going to send the royal court of Jroan some meat for their anniversary feast tomorrow.”

  She thought about the acquisition of Jroan. In the past year, all of her chess pieces had yielded exactly what she’d wanted. Drisa was proving to be a bit difficult, but all she needed to do was tighten the chokehold she had on the kingdom, and King Noesmaneon would buckle. Ja’Kahl was hers, but then, it always had been even if King Zonsbroael never knew it. Tulor was weak, and had quickly pledged fealty to her. It was a tenuous pledge, but a pledge nonetheless. And as she began to think about who had pledged to her, her anger began to build. She had Jroan, Tulor, and Ja’Kahl. Three small, insignificant kingdoms that added up to nothing. She needed the others if she were to show any kind of strength to attack Jahmerikahl.

  The timing was right. She had to implement the plan to attack the town of Lolsthrokith on the border of Balknae. It would mean certain death to all of those that lived in Lolsthrokith. It would also mean death to some of her troops. The people of Lolsthrokith would send out a call for help not only throughout Balknae, but to the closest neighb
oring ally. Zinvia. At least she hoped they would.

  She walked back up to sit on her throne, staring down at the blood left from Dothmeadon’s body. “Send for Generals Altheahs and Duhr,” she said to no particular guard, but one near the door immediately snapped to attention and left.

  She saw the looks on the other guard’s faces. Fear. They knew what summoning the two generals of the combat units meant. And because many of the guards Balaedras chose to have as her personal security were from the combat units, they would be sent to fight with their units.

  “Your highness,” one of the newer guards dared to speak. “Is it wise to initiate tensions with the current situation unresolved in Drisa?”

  Balaedras had never thought she would be the type of ruler to like death. She would never have grouped herself with the likes of Gaeldos or King Draugotin. They’d been cruel and sadistic. She wasn’t like that. She believed that what needed to be done must be done. But she also had to admit that over the course of the past year she had become accustomed to some of the more distasteful dealings she’d had to institute. The killing. At first, she’d felt a pain in her gut—a guilt—or so she thought. But now she knew that it was only because she’d had to get used to it. Death was so very, very easy.

  She glanced over at the tall, muscled female guard. She noticed how the guard’s brown hair curled around her ears, even pulled into the tight top-knot she required them to wear. Her dark, brown eyes were intense, and quite beautiful, if Balaedras dared to admit it to anyone. It was with those eyes that the guard stared back at her with concern.

  “What is your name?” Balaedras asked. “You’re new here. I believe you were given this detail due to your battle experience, yes?”

  The other guards seemed to know what was about to happen. They stared straight ahead without any attention on the conversation between Balaedras and the new guard.