by Tony Roberts
“Coward,” Amne smiled. “I’ll teach her the ways of respect. Now don’t look like that, Lalaas! Let us go see these people. I expect they want patronage.”
“That’s usually the way, ma’am. Best way of buying their loyalty, isn’t it?”
“Cynic. They might be loyal to us regardless.”
Lalaas smiled briefly, then led her down the stairs to one of the reception chambers. Guards bowed respectfully to Amne as she passed. Lalaas glanced at her as they reached the door to the chamber. She had become even more of a woman since the birth, so he thought. Becoming a mother had taken some of the edge to her temper away, and the atmosphere in the palace was slightly more relaxed.
“What?” Amne asked, catching his look.
“Just thinking you look particularly beautiful today,” he said, confident she wouldn’t be outraged by his daring.
She paused and gazed at him. “And I’m not usually?” she challenged, a twinkle in he eye.
“More so than normal, ma’am. I was thinking motherhood agrees with you.”
“Oh, flattery from you? Well, the day promises much, in that case. Thank you, Lalaas. What about Elas?”
Lalaas looked about and lowered his voice. “No change.”
“I thought not. He’s still an insufferable bore, and has the charm and personality of a corpse.” She sighed. “I so wish he could show me some interest.”
“You get enough from the young officers, ma’am.”
“Shhh! You know I only go there for relief!”
Lalaas nodded. As security chief he had to make sure Amne’s nightly indiscretions were kept from Elas. Lalaas reported to the Prince that Amne was not, as far as he knew, liaising with anyone. A lie, but Lalaas was realistic enough to know what Elas didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. He had no chance of stopping Amne from doing what she wanted, so he had arranged to make things easier by acting as a go-between for the young men of the KIMM, men who had been told to keep their mouths shut or end up hanging from the noose in the courtyard. Lalaas so far had arranged for Amne to see two of them, but he was becoming aware she had her eyes on a new potential conquest. Her appetite had got worse since Kola had been born. However, it may be that part of her new happier attitude was down to getting satisfaction from the young officers.
Lalaas hoped that Elas didn’t find out. Luckily he was too busy buried head deep in ledgers and correspondence. He opened the door and looked in. Two people were standing by the fireplace, looking at a large tapestry depicting a battle that the empire had been victorious in a number of centuries ago. With them were a guard and the new Major Domo, a thin man with a pair of hooded eyes who went by the name of Masar, a man who had been selected from the existing group of paper shufflers who had been left behind. So far he had proved to be effective at his job, if somewhat distant and vaguely disapproving of everything around him.
Lalaas announced the arrival of the princess and the men came together and bowed as one. Lalaas took his post inside the door and dismissed the guard to his post outside the room. He then took on a disinterested air, peering at the windows.
Amne advanced to the two minor nobles, smiling. “Ah, Dragan Purfin and Kontas Dekan, so delighted to make your acquaintances,” she offered her hand. Both men bowed again and in turn, kissed the back of it.
Dragan was a well-built, serious looking man with dark hair and a smooth complexion. His brown eyes surveyed her without a hint of pleasure or displeasure. Amne guessed he was late twenties and looked fit and athletic. An interesting man. Kontas was much older, white-haired, possessed a rugged face and a thickening around his waist that spoke of good food and even better wine.
“Please be seated,” Amne swept her hand at two empty chairs facing the one she was preparing to sit in herself. Masar stood close to her side with a wax slate and stylus at the ready. For quick notes in Kastanian shorthand, nothing could be better.
The two men took their seats and looked at her. Dragan the more visibly relaxed while Kontas appeared slightly nervous.
“So what is it I can do for you?”
Dragan cleared his throat. “If I may begin,” he glanced briefly at his colleague who inclined his head. “I am honoured to be here and to have met you, your highness. The reason I am here is to plead for the returning of some privileges my family enjoyed in the time of the previous emperors. Our estates in Frasia were once much greater, but I’m sad to say my father foolishly sided with the Fokis and their sponsored emperor, and lost much of his land when your family ascended the throne.”
Amne acknowledged the facts. She had been prepped by Masar briefly on the respective families’ histories. “And in return for these grants, what is it that the House of Purfin can give to Kastania?”
“Our loyalty,” Dragan smiled, spreading his arms wide.
“Nothing more? Loyalty is to be expected, not something to be honoured as if it were a special act.”
“Ma’am, many Houses show loyalty, yet most are not rewarded while others are, for no apparent reason. To my eyes, at least.”
Amne coolly appraised the man. She tossed her blonde curls – she preferred them to straight hair and had her stylist curl them even more every morning – and turned her attention to the older man. “And is the reason why you are here the same, Kontas?”
“Oh, no, your highness,” Kontas said in a gravelly voice. “I am asking that my grandson, Nikos, a bright young lad of fourteen, be allowed to enter the service of the Temple here. We – my family and I, that is – would be very happy if he were allowed to be taken in and trained up to be a priest to serve the gods and Kastania.”
“I cannot see why not, Kontas. I shall have a word with the priests here and I’m sure it is something we can arrange. I understand that your House owns tracts of land in Makenia bordering the Aester Sea, and that as a result you have sea harvesting rights?”
“Yes ma’am. I can send the best catches to the palace here if you so wish for a nominal cost.”
Amne smiled. “I think that would be a very satisfactory arrangement.” She looked up at Masar. “Arrange it, and make sure the priests accept Nikos Dekan into the Temple to train up as a priest.”
“Ma’am,” the major domo sniffed, clearly showing his disapproval of such a blatant act of favouritism.
“So, Dragan,” she turned back to the younger man. “Your family owns land that is arable, so I am led to believe. Very fertile land, which means plenty of produce. The markets of Kastan City would be a perfect place to sell such, don’t you agree?”
Dragan made a non-committal gesture. “Should we regain our lost estates then perhaps that may come to fruition – excuse my pun,” he added with a brief smile.
Amne bowed her head slightly. “You seem to think that your estates will be returned to the Purfin family on a non-committed promise. I can assure you this will not be the case. Without any firm commitment from your House I cannot possibly see how I can persuade Prince Elas or the emperor to return lands confiscated from the Purfin dynasty through their backing of false emperors and traitors.” She leaned back and coolly appraised the nobleman. “I believe you and your House will have to reconsider your vague conditions and bring me something more specific and of value to Kastania.”
Dragan scowled for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I might be able to come back with something your highness may find suitable,” he winked at her, unseen by the others.
Amne raised an eyebrow, then smiled briefly. “I shall be interested to hear of this new proposal. You shall remain behind in the palace.” She stood and the others did likewise. “Thank you for your submissions. The House of Dekan will hear from us shortly.” She made her way to Lalaas and the captain opened the door, allowing her to leave the room before he followed close behind. The major domo then took over, explaining to the two as to what was to happen next.
Dragan Purfin was shown to a guest room and he threw himself onto the comfortable bed, liking the feel of it. He was ambitious, determined to bring his
family back to a prominent position it had enjoyed under the Fokis. The recent death of his father had propelled him to the top and he was aching to use his pent-up frustrations and energy to the benefit of his House.
A short while later a smartly-dressed woman knocked on his door and entered, summoning him to an audience with the princess once more. Dragan followed, passing through long corridors with marble and stone busts of past people of note, and legendary figures. Tapestries adorned the walls and everywhere stood reminders of Kastania’s glorious past. He smiled sardonically. Kastania had that, but not a glorious present, and an uncertain future. Unlike the Fokis or Duras, he was not one who favoured the success of foreign powers – he wished to drive them back from former imperial lands like the Koros, but he would do that as emperor himself.
Amne awaited him in a small chamber off to one side of the main corridor. A bedroom lay beyond a half-open door, he could see. The door closed behind him and they were alone. Smiling, he advanced on her, took hold of her by the shoulders, and was kissing her ardently. Amne flung her arms round him and kissed back hungrily, pressing her body against his, thrilled by the muscular firmness of him. Dragan evidently kept himself fit.
He used his hands to roam her vibrant body, feeling each contour. This was a woman in the full glory of her physical beauty. Not one piece of unwanted fat was found anywhere. Nice hips, firm, full. Her tongue was driving him mad. He pulled away with some effort and peered at her. “You’re not one to hold back, are you, ma’am?”
“Shut up and make love to me, Purfin.”
He chuckled and picked her up. She was heavier than he expected and held his breath, centering his attention on his stomach muscles. Best not to say such to her or it would kill the moment. He carried her into the bedroom and dropped her onto the bed, falling onto her before she could move. Pinning her to the bed, he began kissing her down her throat. Amne moaned in pleasure. Now he started sliding his hands over her breasts, feeling their roundness and size. Nice, very nice. No wonder people talked of her beauty.
Amne hissed and took hold of his tunic and began frantically unbuttoning it. Her face was red and beginning to sweat. She was working herself up into a passion and wanted this man. Now.
Dragan helped her, revealing his torso to her in no time. He was proud of his physique which had taken some tough work to tone up, but he practiced hard with a particularly heavy two-handed sword, and chopped wood to work off some energy on his estates. It had resulted in a muscular body which he knew thrilled women – he had a string of lovers which he usually seduced once then discarded. He got bored easily. The thrill was the seduction and once achieved, most women lost their allure to him. One or two were worth a second or third go, but he’d never stayed with one for long.
He was now at an age where he ought to take a wife, especially now he was head of the family, but he wanted a little more fun before turning his attention to the boredom of marriage. He had no interest in staying faithful, and knew Amne was that sort, too. Rumours often had at their heart a truth. As soon as he had winked at her and she had reacted in the way he’d hoped for, he knew she would be his latest conquest. In her case, he was prepared to keep the affair going for his and his House’s benefit. Who knows what favours could be showered onto him for being the princess’s lover? Perhaps one day he could take Elas’s place? Disposing him in single combat and as a prize, taking his widow? The thought appealed to him even as he tugged her under garments off.
Amne ran her hands over his hard body. This was superb! The man clearly had a passion for her, and he had position, and looked how a prince ought to look. If he ended up as good in bed as he looked, and was as good with an army as her father, then this was a man worth persisting with. She shut her eyes as his mouth found her hardened nipples and a warm feeling of pleasure rose up inside her.
Outside in the corridor, Lalaas stopped in his latest check on security, with two guards, and frowned. The presence of Amne’s handmaiden sat opposite meant the princess was in the room, and judging by the sounds coming faintly through the gap at the bottom of the door, she was enjoying the pleasures of yet another man. He raised an eyebrow at the woman who shrugged. “Dragan Purfin,” she said.
“By the gods’ teeth,” Lalaas muttered, “she’s getting herself into trouble now.” He curtly jerked his head to the guards to follow him. If Amne had hoped to fool him by selecting a neutral room and not attracting attention by having no guards outside, she had failed totally. Thinking with her libido and not her head. Something men were accused of all too frequently. He checked on a few more locations, then ordered the two guards to take up their new posts, relieving their comrades by the top of the main staircase.
Lalaas tapped on the painted woodwork of the rails. Should he tell Prince Elas? Why should he? Why should he not? What consequences would there be for the dynasty if Elas did find out and took whatever action he felt appropriate? How would Elas react? The Purfin family were Fokis supporters – the Fokis were now clearly the main opposition to the Koros following the demise of the Duras, and they would not need much of an excuse to whip up trouble again. Lalaas had the impression the Fokis were merely waiting their moment, lying low after the failed attempt to kill Amne at her wedding. If news of Amne’s infidelity got out, it would affect opinion of them all.
Damn her! He gently thumped the rail and looked back at the corridor. What did he owe Amne? Was his duty to the empire greater than his protection of the princess? What should he do? He determined to try to keep the whole thing as quiet as possible. He would speak to Dragan Purfin and see if he could dissuade him from any further visit to the palace, and maybe try to stifle the affair before it really got going.
What was clear was that under Elas the palace had become less colourful and more formal. Things were done much more efficiently but with less ‘enjoyment’. Lalaas didn’t mind that so much, as long as everyone knew what they were supposed to be doing. Efficiency he welcomed – indifference he didn’t. People seemed to be a little more dour of late. He therefore had to keep on making sure everyone was still doing their jobs. A little more life wouldn’t go astray but he guessed under Elas that wasn’t likely. Still, he would do the best he could.
It was late, just before he was due to turn it in for the night, when Dragan Purfin appeared, a pleased expression on his face. He was making his way to the main doors when he was asked to present himself to Lalaas in his office. His guards had been given clear orders not to let him out until they had been ordered specifically to do so by Lalaas.
“Captain?” Dragan asked, a slight tint of insolence to his voice. “I presume you have something of importance to say, otherwise why detain me from my duties?”
Lalaas stood up. He wasn’t going to let this nobleman intimidate him, and so he stood facing the man. “I am aware that you entertained the Princess this evening.”
“What of it? And it is none of your affair, either.”
“It is, sire. I am in charge of security and of the personal safety of all of the imperial family, and unscheduled appointments, whether formal or private, need to be seen by me first. It is my duty.”
“As you say; I do not need your permission to conduct my private affairs as I see fit, and neither, I believe, does the Princess. You’re nothing than a hired soldier from the dregs of society. One wrong word from you and I’ll see to it you’re thrown back into the gutter where you came from.”
“So go ahead, Lord Purfin,” Lalaas said quietly. “But until I am relieved of my command I am putting a ban on you entering the palace on security grounds.”
“You’re – what?” Dragan hissed, leaning forward, his face dark with anger. “Who do you think you are? What do you think you’re doing?”
“Protecting the interests of the imperial family and the empire, sire. What are you doing here, other than protecting the interests of your House?”
“Damn you, Captain, by the time I’ve finished with you I’ll have you in chains. Mark my words, you’v
e made the wrong man an enemy. Watch your back.” He swung about and jerked the door open, his face tight.
The guards hesitated as he brushed past but Lalaas waved them to let the man through. He pondered on the situation thoughtfully, then, his mind made up, packed his papers for the day, put them away, then made his way to his room, diverting however to Amne’s door. He knocked and waited.
Selana, one of Amne’s handmaidens, answered it. “Oh, Captain. The Princess is preparing for the arrival of the Prince.”
“This will only take a moment,” Lalaas said.
“Who is it, Selana?” Amne’s voice came to him.
“Captain Lalaas, ma’am.”
“Oh, let him in!”
Lalaas smiled and passed into the chamber. Amne was brushing her locks, sat at her dressing table, peering into the reflective surface before her, looking at Lalaas. “Hello, Lalaas, what can I do for you?”
Lalaas cleared his throat delicately and eyed the two handmaidens. Amne turned around and waved them into the adjoining room.
“So, this sounds serious, Lalaas.”
Lalaas sighed. “Yes ma’am, I’m afraid it is. I had – a conversation with Lord Purfin a few moments ago, expressing my concern at him meeting with you without my prior knowledge. Security concerns ma’am – especially after the Fokis attempt on your life,” he added, seeing Amne’s mouth open.
“And what did this conversation achieve?”
“A difference of opinion, leading to me barring Lord Purfin from the palace. He subsequently threatened to have me removed from your service and placed in chains.”
Amne sat quietly, red stains on her cheeks. Her hands were in her lap. Lalaas stood waiting for a moment or two, then Amne stood up. Her eyes were flashing with annoyance. “Lalaas, you had no right to bar Lord Purfin from the palace.”
“I considered him a threat to security, and threatening the Head of Palace Security is not a good move from anyone. Of course, ma’am, you could overrule my decision whenever you like, however this would have to be brought to the attention of Prince Elas.”
