by L M Adams
But I cannot deny him, not right now. I step closer to him, letting him lean back into me as I part him and rub his opening gently.
He groans low with pleasure; my cock hardens immediately, urging me to claim him again. I have not had the rose since our first time and Ra claim my soul if it is the last.
“Ra take me I want you,” I slip my finger inside of him just so I can hear him whimper with need to mingle with my own. My thoughts are filled with the memory of pleasure I received as I forced myself inside of him.
How tight and warm he was, the way he sounded and felt in my arms… all while he was imagining that I was his father.
He lets his head fall to my shoulder. I kiss his neck gently, “Give me consent,” I pull my finger from him and begin stroking myself, “promise it shall be only me in your heart and give me consent.”
“Rape me,” he whispers his evil desires, “please just rape me. Hold me down and fuck me into oblivion as I cry. I promise I will only think of you.”
“I wish it the soft way; I wish to make love,” I demand of him, “I will beat you after if I must, but I wish my way.”
“You promised you would, Lucien.”
“I shall, Capaneus, I promise I shall – but I need softness today. Give me consent.”
“Then no,” he pulls away and gets out of the water… leaving me with my dick in my hand, literally.
My chest begins to rumble as I consider doing exactly what he wants! Who the fuck does he think he is?!
It’s my rose by right and by might! I don’t need permission any fucking way.
As I step from the water, I realize that I am playing into his hands… the Bloodsucker knows how to play games, and he plays them to fucking win. Once I rape him, that’s it, he’ll win… feel vindicated that all men are the same. I’ll be just like his father, I’ll be just like the rest of the world and that world he understands, the world where everyone takes and he deserves to be this pensive, victimized, pity me of a fucking man.
I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Get dressed,” I stomp from the baths before I do something regrettable.
83
Lucien
“Luey!” The Wench calls from the balcony. I put on my pants and go to see what has her excited.
As I approach I see it’s a royal barge. A wide boat, sitting low in the water with two decks, upper and lower, no sails, no paddles at all. The wood is golden and red, the center lower deck has a large white cloth canopy in the center.
It is the conveyance of a king.
“That has to be for you,” she sounds amazed.
I grunt, “Don’t need all the fuss.”
She huffs, “You’re always after me to accept nice things… looks like it’s your turn.”
“You’re the Queen.”
“And you’re a King.”
“I’m your King, you are the world’s Queen.”
She turns and wraps her arms around my waist, “I’m happy just being your Wench.”
“Oh, aye?” I smile.
“Mm hmm,” she nods, “I’ll be your Wench in the sheets and a Queen in the streets.”
I chuckle low as I kiss her lips gently, enjoying her in my arms, but my thoughts and heart are still stuck on what happened in the baths between me and Capaneus.
She turns back around and settles into my arms to look out at the water. I inhale the scent of her deeply.
“You seem happy here, Wench.”
“I am, this is amazing,” it is easy to hear the excitement in her voice.
I want to ask her what to do about the Bloodsucker, but I do not wish to ruin her mood. She deserves to be happy and it would not be fair to lay my problems at her feet, demanding that she fix them.
If the Bloodsucker really wanted to be with me… he would, and he would do it without needing to feel like it was rape. I do not wish to only be wanted as a sadist; I wish to be loved as a man sometimes. For once I wish a thing and I will not sway from it, sometimes I deserve to have the things I need for happiness too.
There’s a knock on the bedroom door, I pull from the Wench to go back into the rooms, “Yes?”
The door opens, it is the young boy Keyon.
“Raja,” he bows low, “your ship has arrived. Master Henenu wishes to leave at your convenience.”
“We will be down shortly.”
“Luey! There’s a crowd forming!” The Wench comes back into the rooms… excited. “Keyon, how are you?”
He bows even lower at the waist. “Very well, Supreme Warrior Goddess and Queen of my heart, Jaevia.”
She laughs, “I seem to move up a notch every time I see you.”
“There are not enough words to describe your beauty and power, my Goddess,” he says still bent over.
I raise an eyebrow, “Do you have to enchant everyone you come across, Wench?”
“I’m Goddess Jae, did you not just hear him?”
I roll my eyes at the woman; Ra give me strength.
“Well stand up boy before you tip over,” I grumble low.
He stands up straight and takes a deep breath. “Raja, my Goddess, I ask to join you and serve you. I am born Isis, but I wish my heart song Atum… like you Raja.”
God, that is what I don’t need, the responsibility of a child. “You are still too young…”
“I am eleven summers; close now to my time of choosing. I would be of great service to you and your most beautiful Warrior Goddess.”
“Aww,” Jaevia gushes and rushes over to him to stand unified against me. “Isn’t he cute?” She drapes an arm over his shoulder and tugs him into her side… grinning.
How can I deny her when she’s standing there looking all womanly, bursting with a maternal instinct?
Ra help me, “You know how to seat a horse?”
He nods enough to rattle his brain around in his skull.
“Brush your teeth, keep yourself clean and the like?”
“He isn’t a baby, Luey!”
I huff.
“Yes, Raja, I can care for myself.”
“Very well, but just for the Ha’mara, and your mother must agree.”
“She will! You are the Raja!”
He throws his arms around the Wench’s waist hugging her tight and turns running off, I presume to get permission from his mother.
I raise an eyebrow at the Wench, she only smiles, “It will be good practice for our baby, Luey.”
My heart softens and my knees almost go weak. I love when she talks about our future… our future when she gives me the child I’ve wanted since first I thought to claim her as my wife.
I know in her secret heart she’s afraid she won’t be a good momma… but how could she not be? Just look at her. Fiercely protective, filled with warmth and love – and she could teach our daughter to be a warrior like her.
Capaneus, done with his sulk, finally joins us fully dressed and we leave the rooms to go downstairs. I don’t say anything to him, and he says nothing to me – the both of us caught in a stalemate of our own making.
Amalya, Keyon’s mother, is waiting for us in the main chamber, Keyon at her side. His small cloth bag already packed and ready, face grinning.
Although Amalya is getting on in her summers, she is still beautiful and strong and there is something about her that reminds me of my own mother, and if I’m honest, something about Keyon that reminds me of me.
“Mistress,” I bow my head to her, “I thank you for your care. This was a much-needed respite for us.”
Both Jaevia and Capaneus make me proud by joining in with my thanks, showing this woman of Isis our gratitude and respect.
“It was my heart’s pleasure and it would be my pleasure to send my son with you to learn the ways of Atum and discover his heart song, if you would have him.”
The kid is almost hopping from one foot to the other, filled with excitement. I don’t have the heart to crush his dreams, I know how powerful they can be.
“Very well, you
ng Keyon, you may travel with us to Atum to enjoy the Ha’mara.”
He screams his thanks, babbling wildly. The Wench laughs and reaches out, hugging the woman tightly and promising to keep him safe before taking Keyon’s hand in hers and promising the young boy a merry adventure. Is the kid stealing my lady?
The noise from the crowd outside grows and I know it is time for me to embark on the last leg of our journey. Excitement… or worry… or insecurity fills me. I’m going to the city of Atum, I’m going to my father’s people and I will stand in his presence… will he find me a worthy son? Will he see me and be proud? Will I wish to cut off his fucking head because he failed my mother? How could he dare live after my mother’s end? I would never be able to live if I lost the Wench, not a life worth living anyway.
We walk outside into the sun and the crowd, and I feel a rush of energy fill me. The city is alive, and it fills me with life. The buildings are filled with even more people, waving wildly from their windows and balconies all framed with colorful vines and flowers. This is a place of life; this is a place of giving.
Capaneus walks beside me with the Wench and Keyon in front of us. He’s wrestling with his ego, but none other but me or Jaevia would be able to tell he is anything other than a dutiful husband. Capaneus is far too apt at hiding his true emotions. Another difficulty in being married to him.
As we make our way through the crowd, I do my best to seem happy… or at least not so much like a lion with a thorn caught in its paw.
The street is packed. All with smiling faces, cheering excitedly, filled with joy – all here are happy to see me. But their happiness is fool hearted. I will not become their new Raja, I will not become the next incarnation of Ra. This is not my heart song; this is not my place.
Their joy, which felt so wonderful just moments ago, begins to taste of bitter ash on my tongue. They do not know of the horrors before them, the brutal fall that will visit upon them darkening the sky with the sins of Set.
I am not a man familiar with pretense, yet I do my best, because I find I do not have the courage to bring these people the knowledge of truth.
Finally, we reach the river and the barge. Our escorts, Nyrobi, Nassor, Kondo, Imani and Kwame – stand at the dock at attention, waiting for us… so much ceremony for a lost son.
Nassor comes over, grinning from ear to ear, as is his way. His face mostly healed from the intimate date it had with my fists not more than two hours ago.
“The people love you Hari!” He shouts above the crowd.
“Why?”
“You came back to us; the lost son has returned!”
I grit my teeth, someone needs to tell them that I’m not staying, that I will be gone soon after the solstice… someone needs to tell them. Yet I do not have the heart to.
“Why the long face, Hari? From the sound of things your ‘naughty boy’ gave you a merry time.”
The Wench covers her smile with hand looking away, Keyon looks on wide-eyed.
“Not in front of the boy, Nassor!”
“I don’t think there’s anyone in the city that didn’t hear it… or wasn’t jealous of it,” he gives me a disrespectful wink and his eyes slide to Capaneus as if he’s sizing him up.
“No, Nassor.”
“Fine, fine, but you can’t keep a man from looking.”
“I can if I beat your face in.”
He laughs and turns away, ushering us onto the barge. Keyon reaches out to take the Wench’s hand to help her on the ramp to the ship as if she was the most prized possession in the world – I cannot say I would disagree, but…
I huff looking to Capaneus, “I think we’re being replaced.”
“There’s a lot of that going around.”
His words shock me, “What does this mean?”
“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he seethes low and follows the Wench onto the barge.
Yes, today is going to be a hard day with the Bloodsucker.
84
Lucien
The barge is even more opulent than it seemed from the balcony of our rooms. The deck is wider than I first thought, plenty of room to move about. Fine wood polished high, the bannisters seem to be dipped in gold leaf and I can feel the majic vibrate from the wooden planks. This is a thing of power.
The Wench gets comfortable under the large white canopy in the center of the barge, laying out on the plump cushions looking like a queen of Ishtar. Royalty suits her, she may hate the aplomb, but my god does it suit her. She holds a naturally regal air.
Keyon kneels at her feet, asking her if she would like to remove her sandals. She tries to shoo him away, but he begs, wide eyed, and the Wench relents. He slips off her tiny sandals and she tucks her little feet under her, seeming so relaxed, and happy. A million miles… or years away, her world is falling apart; but here, here she gets to not have to be the savior to two dying worlds; here she can be wife to the Raja and live for once in harmony and peace with what she is.
All hearts grow tired of war, and all wars are not bloody battles with clanging swords. I am smart enough to know that some wars are lost and won all within our own spirits, and those battles can tire a soul faster than anything.
The Wench is tired, and here… here she gets to rest.
It does not take long for Nyrobi to join her on the cushions. The other woman has changed into a simple frock, much like the Wench’s – a long colorful dress, sandals, and an eye of Ra cuff on her arm.
“Sister,” Nyrobi whispers, smiling.
“Sister,” the Wench returns the greeting naturally.
Nyrobi’s voice drops lower, whatever she says, Jaevia appreciates greatly. The Wench lowers her eyes and nods, I can feel the Wench’s pleasure in the woman’s attention beating through the link.
I cannot blame Nyrobi… or Nassor, my mates are prizes, it seems I will be defending their honor for the entire trip, Ha’mara or no. I can be flexible when it comes to the Wench, and perhaps it is not fair, but I will not allow Capaneus to be with another man, I simply will not. Especially when I have yet to have him… really and truly. At least in the ways I wish him. I know in my heart the Wench loves me above all others. But the Bloodsucker? I have many questions in my heart. Would he cast me to the side for another that would give in to his darker desires? If another would beat and rape him the way he wishes would I find myself not so loved any longer? A man more like his Matthias would do these things.
I would be a fool if I did not acknowledge that the Bloodsucker’s feelings towards his ex-lover are still there, all wrapped up in his feelings for his ex-wife, his ex-father… his ex-life. Before there was a we, and us, and ours – there was a them.
Did he throw his lot in with me and now finds me unable to rise to the occasion?
Again, I wonder if I should just rape him and abuse him as he so wishes. If I should let him win this war between the light and the dark and learn to be happy with whatever I get in return.
I learned to be happy with sharing the Wench when I thought there would be no way that I could. But she had come to me finally, she had chosen me in that god-awful tent, in that god-awful bog. She really chose me, not because of the Kindred, or for power, or to be a Reaper. She chose me… to love and that let my heart be free. After that, the thought of her being with another, loving another did not terrify me so… because our foundation was strong.
What do the Bloodsucker and I have but stories of pain and curses to share? What else is there for us? What kind of foundation is that?
Capaneus slinks away to stand at the front of the barge. I go to the upper deck to join Henenu, wishing to give Capaneus the space he seems to crave right now.
The old master stands proudly, hands clasped behind his back. Dressed in a mourning thobe, all black with a touch of golden embroidery at the collar – does he mourn even still for my mother?
I think yes.
His long garment seems to move in the wind with the majics of the land, with the very spirit of the people.
“Master Henenu,” I greet him, bowing my head.
“Hari, come, do you remember your lessons?”
“Master?”
“Come now,” he slides one foot back, turning his body to the side and holds out a hand, level with the deck.
I don’t really wish to make a spectacle of myself but being disobedient to Henenu would not be honorable.
I join him in the stance, his back turned to me, his long graying locs almost sweeping the wooden deck.
“Breathe, Hari, you are too tense.”
I try to relax as I’m told. Let the stress wash away.
“Good, now close your eyes and open your third eye to see.”
How in the hell did he even know my eyes were open?
Again, I do as I’m told, I work on my breathing, settling my heart. I’ve never had trouble seeing the truth of a thing. Jaevia struggles with seeing auras, connecting to her third eye because she wishes to change things too much – she has hard time accepting things as they are. But I prefer it, I prefer to live in the truth of a thing, no matter how painful, accepting life as it is, the past, the future, the now… as it is, is easier for me.
Instead of seeing the wood planks of the barge, the railings, the canopy, I see the power and the form it has. I felt the majic of the boat when I first stepped on, but now I connect to it, I… remember it. Even odder, it remembers me – it seems waiting for me to give it… directions.
“Yes, Hari. And now a gentle push from the dock.”
Henenu’s body moves, folding in his outstretched hand and pushing with his left, away from the dock. I do not know how I know that, but I do, and I follow his movement… urging the boat to be obedient to my will.
I feel the ship float away from the dock; the wood groans low and I can feel the vibrations of the mighty boat run up my spine.
“Gently,” he whispers and I… pull back on my intent.
