Crown of Destiny

by Bertrice Small

  “Nay,” he said.

  “On one occasion he might request that of you, my lady. You should be aware of it. Tonight he wishes to couple, and I will take your place. Your lord will tell you when you must release his cock, and you must obey immediately so as not to spoil his pleasure or yours in the future.”

  Nyura listened carefully, all the while sucking hard on Kolgrim’s thick and lengthy cock. She had taken Mava’s advice and made a strong effort to relax her throat. When she did, she was able to take him all in. From his heavy breath and soft groans she knew he was enjoying her first efforts.

  “Cease, Nyura!” His voice was rough and hard.

  She immediately released her hold on him, and as she did she realized that Mava had taken a position upon a low double couch. Nyura sat back on her heels to watch.

  “Well done, my lady,” the Pleasure Woman complimented her. “Now watch as my lord Kolgrim fills my sheath with his cock, and we take pleasures together. This is what you will be expected to do in two nights,” Mava told her as Kolgrim now covered her ripe body, sinking his cock deep into her, causing her to sigh with delight.

  Fascinated, Nyura watched as the two bodies moved together in a wild rhythm. Kolgrim’s cock flashed back and forth, and as it did Nyura felt a tug in her own nether regions. The woman beneath her betrothed began to moan as her crisis overtook her. Her legs wrapped themselves around the Twilight Lord’s torso. After a few moments her body shuddered and convulsed. Kolgrim withdrew from her. His cock was still hard.

  Nyura stared, fascinated. “She did not pleasure you, my lord?”

  “Aye, she did, but I need more,” he told the girl. “On your knees, Mava,” he told the Pleasure Woman, who immediately complied, and reentering her sheath, his hands gripping her plump hips, Kolgrim pumped and pumped the woman to a shrieking crisis. Still his mighty cock stood hard and straight.

  “If she cannot pleasure you, my lord,” Nyura said nervously, “how can I?”

  Kolgrim chortled. “You and I will enjoy pleasures together, my love. I am particularly lustful today. On your back, Mava, with your legs over the edge of the couch, my girl,” he instructed the Pleasure Woman. Then standing, a single hand upon his partner he thrust into her, moving back and forth, back and forth until with a deep groan he released his juices even as Mava cried out her third round of pleasures.

  Mava’s eyes opened, and she sighed gustily. “Thank you, my lord. I admit to you that I have never enjoyed fucking as much as I have just enjoyed it.”

  He smiled at her, raising her into a seated position now. “You are an excellent instructress, Mava.” Then he turned to Nyura. “Did you enjoy your lessons, my love?”

  “I did, my lord, very much,” she told him.

  “Excellent then, let us move on. There is a punishment room, I believe,” Kolgrim said. “Sometimes when passion grows old, gentle pain can be introduced to revive it. Is that not so, Mava?”

  “Indeed, my lord, it is. Perhaps your lady could benefit from a small lesson,” Mava said. “I suspect our interlude has aroused her, but she forces it away. She should not deny herself or you, should she, my lord?”

  “She should not,” Kolgrim agreed. He took Nyura’s hand. “Come, my love.” Following him into another room, Nyura saw several of the guests partaking in rather bizarre activities. One man’s bare bottom was being flogged by a woman holding a tied bunch of birch twigs. His buttocks were scarlet yet he cried to her, “More! More!” A beautiful woman was having saw-toothed clips attached to her nipples as she was suspended from manacles that hung from the ceiling. There were two women shackled and bent over padded bars while two gentlemen plied thick leather straps to their posteriors. The women cried out as they were whipped, but neither sounded as if she were in pain. Then one of the men threw his strap aside and, lifting his robe to display a rigid cock, began to fuck the woman he had so recently punished.

  “Fascinating,” Nyura remarked. “What have these people done to merit punishment from their partners.”

  “Little, if nothing,” Kolgrim told her. “The pain they inflict or have inflicted upon themselves restores their lusts. And some of them grow to enjoy it. Come,” he said, seating himself. “I will give you a tiny taste. Put yourself over my knee.”

  “I do not think so, my lord,” Nyura said. “Such activities do not appeal to me.”

  “Nyura,” Kolgrim said in a low even voice, “you cannot disobey me, my love. Now put yourself over my knee, for you are to be spanked for this disobedience.”

  “Oh, do not make me,” she pleaded mischievously, for she sensed he would enjoy forcing her to his will.

  “Wench, you but compound your misbehavior,” he told her, reaching out and yanking her over his knee.

  “Oh! Oh!” Nyura cried softly. Then she gasped as he pulled her gown up, and she felt the air upon her backside. Then his hand descended, delivering a stinging blow, and she squealed, wiggling wildly.

  He placed one hand in the small of her back and continued spanking her until her bottom was a fine glowing pink. Turning her over onto her back, he pushed two fingers into her sheath, which was already dripping with her juices. He thrust the two digits back and forth until she moaned her surrender to him. Then sitting her up, he kissed her a long, slow passionate kiss, his tongue insinuating itself into her mouth to stroke hers. She moaned again against his lips as he withdrew the two fingers. “Was that exciting?” he murmured in her ear as he drew her gown down.

  Nyura opened her eyes. “Aye,” she said.

  “When we are wed I will strap you now and again,” he promised her. Kolgrim was pleased. Nyura was proving herself to be worthy to be his wife. Her lusts were great. Untutored, she was an eager learner, and he would enjoy her briefly before impregnating her. He wondered what she would say when she discovered his two cocks. Would that make her fearful? But no, he decided. She would relish them, and give him everything he desired. This girl, he decided, would never bore him. “We had best return to the dining chamber, my love,” he said to her.

  “I am eager for our wedding now more than ever,” Nyura told him.

  THE DAY WORE ON, AND THEN as night fell it came time for the bride and groom to be put to bed. Much merriment ensued as Palben and Divsha were escorted to their bedchamber. Once there, the gentlemen divested the Lord High Ruler of all of his garments, leaving him naked, while the ladies did the same to Divsha. There was a great deal of good-natured bantering back and forth by the guests.

  Then came Lady Laureen bearing in her hand a large-footed gold cup, its base studded with rubies. Standing by the bed, she offered it first to Palben, and when he had drunk his fill Lady Laureen presented the goblet to Divsha, who also drank deeply. “May your union be fruitful,” the First Lady of Hetar said in a neutral voice. Then turning, she left the bridal chamber, followed by the rest of the guests. Her mouth tightened as the door closed and Divsha’s voice was heard saying, “Oh, my lord, you are so virile!”

  Kolgrim watched, amused, as he accompanied Nyura. His eyes met those of Lady Laureen, and he nodded almost imperceptibly. Finding Grugyn Ahasferus in the crowd of courtiers, he brought Nyura to him. “I am returning your granddaughter to you, my lord, lest I be tempted before our wedding night,” he told the magnate. Then he kissed Nyura’s lips gently. “I shall not see you until our wedding ceremony, my love,” he said. “Dream of me until that day.” Then he left her.

  “You are an extremely fortunate girl,” her grandfather told her. “And your good fortune has already enriched this house more than I could have ever imagined. Divsha, Palben’s bride. You to wed the Twilight Lord. And now I have received an offer for Yamka from the Dominus of Terah’s son. All three kingdoms related by blood ties through the children you will bear your husbands. I could have never envisioned such a thing, Nyura. The house of Ahasferus will not only be the richest house in Hetar, but our power will be increased threefold.”

  “Yamka is to be married? She said naught to me today. Indeed she did
nothing but complain,” Nyura remarked.

  “She does not know yet, and you must say nothing.” Grugyn Ahasferus chuckled, well pleased. “I must speak with her parents for she will have to live in Terah. But one day she will be Terah’s Domina. They will have to pay a premium for her, of course. She is a most valuable commodity. Still, he is a most handsome young man, Prince Vaclar. Yamka will not be displeased.

  “Lord Amren brought him to the wedding today, introducing him to your grandmother and me. Then Ambassador Cadoc made the suggestion that a marriage between our family and his would be a profitable venture for us all. I would not have thought Lord Cadoc that astute for I find him narrow-minded. I suspect the whole thing is my friend Amren’s idea, but it is an excellent one, don’t you think?” He actually didn’t care what she thought, but Nyura was his favorite granddaughter, and she was surprisingly intelligent for a female.

  “My opinion does not matter, Grandfather,” Nyura said, confirming his faith in her, “but I think you are a brilliant man to arrange such stellar matches for us. The House of Ahasferus will be well served by our unions. I know Divsha and Yamka will do their best, as will I, to continue to serve the house of our birth.”

  Grugyn Ahasferus patted Nyura’s delicate little hand and nodded. “You are a good girl,” he told her. “And cleverer than the other two. Lord Kolgrim is powerful, Nyura, and he means to be even more powerful once he has Ulla’s powers. Tread carefully, girl, and obey him without question except when it interferes with us.”

  She smiled at him. “Of course, Grandfather.” She did not tell him of her decision to withhold Ulla’s powers from Kolgrim. Nyura sensed retaining Ulla’s powers would guarantee her a greater measure of safety than giving them up. Suddenly she was alert, and a tingle raced down her spine. She thought they were being watched, but glancing about, she could see no one.

  “I will take you home myself,” Grugyn said to the girl, and called for his litter.

  Lara and Kaliq listened to Grugyn Ahasferus and his granddaughter from the shadows, invisible to the two Hetarians. Satisfied that all was going as it should, Kaliq whisked them back to Shunnar, where the sun was just rising across the desert sands. The air was clear and cool, and in the skies above a hawk soared screeching loudly as he flew. Seeing it, Lara was reminded of Vartan of the Fiacre, her first husband, a mortal who could shape-shift taking the form of a hawk when he did.

  “Anoush’s prediction will come to pass,” Kaliq said. “You have united the worlds, Lara, my love.”

  She was silent for a moment. “Aye,” she replied. “But this world is small, Kaliq, and eventually it would have all come together. It is true I have touched each part of it. Hetar. Terah. The Dark Lands. But my influence has faded away now. Why? The magic world tried to teach these mortals who inhabit these lands that war was not a solution. That there was enough for all.” She laughed bitterly. “At least that lesson took, after the era of the Hierarch. Hetar sees that all its people are fed, clothed and housed. But none of them has any purpose. The magnates and the merchants continue on as they always have. The Crusader Knights are few now for there are no challenges left to conquer. I had hoped Hetar would change and grow. It has not.”

  “I know,” he replied. “Change is difficult, Lara. It takes courage for a leader to stand up and effect it. Such men and women are not being born into Hetar or Terah.”

  “I cannot just give up, Kaliq,” Lara told him. “But for the first time in my existence I do not know what to do. If I curse Nyura’s womb, or put a spell upon her so that she does not produce Kolgrim’s son, he will know the blame lies with me. He will harm Marzina. Oh, he will not spill her blood, but dropping her into the bottomless ravine would be worse than death for Marzina, and for me. And I will not give Kolgrim that pleasure, for to see me in pain would pleasure him.”

  “He wants you to love him,” Kaliq said. “That is natural for he is your child.”

  “How can I love him?” she asked despairingly. “I hated his father. His birth, and that of his twin, was an aberration.”

  “The birth of your sons has helped to keep the darkness at bay for over a century,” Kaliq reminded her.

  “To what purpose, my lord? Cronan says that Hetar is doomed. That within the next few months the darkness will claim it, and the light will go out of this world,” Lara said. “So why did the magic world use me to birth Kolgrim and Kolbein? One has lived to rule. The other lives imprisoned. What has it all been for, Kaliq?” She gazed up at him, her beautiful faerie green eyes wet with her tears.

  “You gave the world of Hetar the opportunity to turn back from the brink of its own destruction. You showed them the way when you defeated Kol, the previous Twilight Lord, in the battle for The City. For a few years, I believed that they could make this world the place it should be. A place of peace and plenty. A place where all races, mortal and magic, could live together, respecting each other and our different customs. A place where we would all have a purpose and that purpose would be to the good. But it did not happen, despite all we did to make it so.”

  “So now we will desert Hetar because it hasn’t lived up to our expectations?” Lara asked him. “How does that make us any better than the mortals we have tried to protect, my dear lord?”

  “Perhaps that has been our mistake,” Kaliq told her. “Mayhap we should not have interfered in their growth. But we did. We tried to help, and it only made it worse, for mortals, it seems, are their own worst enemy. We did not create them so we cannot accept all of the blame for their behavior.”

  “If we leave them, what will happen to them?” Lara wondered.

  “The darkness will overtake the world of Hetar. But even in the darkness, my love, there is always a pinpoint of light. And if that tiny light is strong and someone nurtures it, it will grow, and perhaps one day it will overcome the darkness that will take this world shortly,” Kaliq said.

  Lara put her arms about his neck, and laying her head against him, she wept softly. Finally when she had eased her grief she asked him, “Where will we go, Kaliq?”

  “First to Belmair, for the darkness will not touch that world for many centuries to come. The magic that lives on this world will evacuate Hetar and regroup there to consider where we will make our new home. The Cosmos is vast, Lara, and there are many worlds. I think, however, we will find one that is not inhabited, or perhaps make one for ourselves. We will cloak it from mortal eyes so we may live in peace without fear of the darkness,” Kaliq told her.

  “I will not leave until I must,” Lara said. “Perhaps I may foil Kolgrim, if not entirely, a little bit.” She nestled against him, breathing the familiar fragrance of him. It soothed her, and she was overcome by calm. Lara still could not quite believe with all of her heart that the world of Hetar was doomed. Perhaps there was something she might do to buy her world more time.

  “You are plotting,” Kaliq said. His voice held a hint of amusement.

  “It isn’t polite to intrude on another’s private thoughts,” Lara scolded him, but she was smiling. Then she said to him, “We are going to Kolgrim’s wedding, Kaliq. It will please him, and perhaps I can in that way delay the inevitable.”

  Kaliq shook his dark head. “You are not a faerie woman to give up easily or without a fight, are you, my love? Very well, we will go to Kolgrim’s wedding.”

  “Is Lothair still serving on the High Council?” Lara asked.

  “He is for the interim, but when our brothers depart for Belmair, he will withdraw, too,” Kaliq said.

  “Have him inform Grugyn Ahasferus that the Twilight Lord’s mother and her life mate will attend the wedding. Then he is to tell Palben that we will expect accommodation for several nights at the palace. We will arrive tomorrow,” Lara said.

  Kaliq laughed heartily. “We will create quite a stir amid a kingdom that espouses an official policy that magic does not exist. Shall we make an entrance like we did last time, my love? Or shall we be polite, and just pretend we are normal guests.”r />
  “That will depend upon our reception,” Lara said. “I think Dominus Cadarn and his wife, the Domina Paulina, should also attend Kolgrim’s wedding. Have Lothair tell the Lord High Ruler that they will also need accommodation. It is time my descendants met face-to-face. Perhaps if they know one another their blood tie will help them in the darkness that Kolgrim means to bring. Oh, I wish I could prevent his wedding, Kaliq. Is there no way? No way at all?” she asked. Then her eyes narrowed.

  “I gave him life, Kaliq. Could I not take that life away?”

  “At the cost of your own soul, my love? And it would change nothing, for with Kolgrim’s death both Kol and Kolbein would be freed. Their joint reign would be a far more violent and cruel one than Kolgrim’s will be,” Kaliq told her. “Despite his strength of will, Kolgrim has inherited some of your good, Lara. He shuns it, to be sure, but it still exists deep within him. It is why he showed you Marzina’s fragile prison, and gave you the opportunity to be reasonable with him rather than just simply releasing his sister into the bottomless ravine, and then demanding Nyura’s return. Kolgrim is the child you created from the one Kol gave you. Kolbein is his father’s son. He inherited nothing of you, Lara. He is pure evil. Far worse than any Twilight Lord ever created, even Kol,” Kaliq explained. “When you split the unborn child within you, most of the evil remained with the first infant, Kolbein. Only some of it burgeoned with the second baby who was Kolgrim. That is why he has always felt an affinity for you where his twin did not. And that is also why you have felt an affection for him that you could not, would not admit even to yourself, Lara.”

  “He is Kol’s son, Kaliq,” she quickly replied.