The Morgannate: The Dregian Chronicles Book 3

by D E Boske

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Darian, but that was Declan and Betremen. They wanted to remind you of your appointment today.” Darian’s face turned red with rage.

  “Who do they think they are? Am I a nitwit then, that I cannot seem to remember an appointment?” Renlyss was nestled between Darian’s legs and he had her folded in his arms to protect her modesty as much as was possible. Nymdal could see her shapely leg rising out of the water to hang over the side of the tub and her naked back. His eyes traveled greedily over what little he could see.

  “That will be all, Nymdal,” the warning in the Mage’s voice was unmistakable. He caught Nym looking. The Gor Li’ Khan retreated and closed the door for their privacy.

  “What was that about?” she asked, catching the look in her lover’s eyes.

  “Nymdal likes you,” he replied, an edge to his voice.

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” she gently chided. “I think he’s just lonely.”

  “Don’t underestimate your powerful allure. I don’t think you realize how beautiful you are, Reny.”

  “Am I?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

  “Indeed,” his voice was low and captivating. He leaned into her until they were nose to nose.

  “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. And you’re all mine,” he said softly.

  “As long as you treat me right, Darian Brade,” she said, her voice soft, but firm.

  “Haven’t I so far?” he responded, bringing his lips to hers.

  “Yes, but it’s only been a day, Darian. I meant what I said before. Do not hurt me and do not sleep with anyone else, or I will leave you and no amount of begging will bring me back.”

  “Reny, I understand why you worry about my fidelity, but I tell you true, you have nothing to fear. When I’m with you, I don’t even think about anyone else, nor am I interested in anyone else, Tynuviel included.” His words shocked her and warmed her heart. Was he really hers?

  “Really, Darian?” she squealed in delight.

  “Really, Shazzi, but as you know, I require a lot of sex to keep me happy and satisfied. Can

  you keep up with me?” his voice was husky and soft. His intent thick and hard against her belly.

  She brushed his lips with hers and he took it from there. He was so sweet and romantic and she knew she was lost. Making love with him was almost agonizing because of the pleasure he gave her. Sometimes, it bordered on painful with the amount of feeling that coursed through

  her.

  The water was warm and inviting and he was so horny with her so near. He pulled her into his lap, her back facing him. She placed her legs to either side of him and braced herself on the tub. She felt his arms encircle her waist; his left hand splayed over her belly. Then she was full of sensation as she eased herself down atop him. She felt the fingers of his right hand dip between her thighs, gently stroking her and it was almost too much to bear. The overwhelming feeling of fullness along with his fingers was…

  “Mmm Darian,” she moaned.

  “I want you Reny, so much,” he whispered, as he began to move his hips. “Vazaalhen!” cried Darian gutturally, as her pace increased and she took everything he had and more.

  Neither one was able to last too long and gave in to their pleasure rather quickly. Which was fine with Darian since he had to see the stupid Mages.

  “Was that Shivvendari?” she asked, once she was clean and drying herself off.

  “Mmm, yes, but I will not tell you what it means. It is inappropriate.”

  She giggled, “You can’t be serious, Darian. Everything we do is inappropriate,” she commented, and he rewarded her with his brilliant smile.

  “Okay, you really want to know?” she nodded and he moved closer to her, leaned down and whispered into her ear.

  “Again?” she asked, with a wicked gleam in her eyes.

  “I would love to, but the assholes await,” he responded, his lips so close to hers.

  Darian led her to Aganor’s chambers with Kelindril, Nymdal, Floran, Gavil, Jevich and Gibron close on their heels. Darian let Kelindril have his way because it was easier than arguing over everything. Darian honestly objected to few things, leaving Kelindril to do as needed. He knocked on the door and did not wait long before it opened. It was almost as if they’d been hovering by the door and he smiled inwardly at the thought, but now was not the time for humor. Once again, he needed to put them in their place. Forcefully.

  “Darian, please come in. And who is the lovely lady?” asked Aganor, holding the door open.

  “Aganor,” Darian nodded respectfully. “This is Renlyss and she is an elven mage of great renown,” he responded.

  “What is she doing here? This is Mage business,” said Betremen, as if explaining to a dimwitted child. Aganor flashed him an angry look, but he realized that it was about time Darian put them in their place.

  “Oh, c’mon Betremen, it’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s diddling her,” said Alvos, a Dregian Mage.

  Before anyone knew what happened, Darian punched Alvos in the mouth. The blonde Mage fell backward, banging his head on the wall.

  “Do not speak so around a lady,” Darian said, quietly threatening.

  Alvos got up and came at Darian in a rage. Alvos was tall, not as tall as Darian, but tall enough. He had long blonde hair and golden green eyes. Renlyss found him to be stunning.

  Darian did not feel the need to use his magic to put Alvos in his place. Back in Mogan Dar, they’d always been at odds. Darian was a far superior fighter to Alvos, with weapons, wits, or fists. Darian used his body to block Alvos’s momentum and rammed his fist into Alvos’s midsection, dropping him again.

  Before he was able to stand, Darian straddled him, punching him relentlessly. Blood sprayed across the floor and spattered Darian’s clothes and face. Renlyss could not believe what she was witnessing. Was no one here going to stop this madness? She had the sickening feeling that Darian would end up killing him.

  “Darian, don’t waste anymore of your energy on this loser,” she said in elvish, as she laid her hand on her lover’s right shoulder.

  When Darian stood, Alvos was a bloody, broken mess. The rest of the Mages gave them a wide berth and did not intervene on Alvos’s behalf. Alvos stood and spit blood out of his mouth.

  “You cockblocking bastard! Is that beauty aware of how much pussy your dick’s been in before hers?”

  “What did I say about your language?” asked Darian, quietly devoid of any emotion, as he delivered a powerful punch to Alvos’s head. Alvos dropped to the ground and lay motionless but breathing.

  “Anyone else have anything to say?” asked Darian. Then to Renlyss he spoke in elvish, “I’m sorry you had to see this, babe. I told you they were assholes.”

  “Mmm, so you did,” she said in the common tongue, which left them wondering. “Thank you for protecting my honor,” she said in elvish.

  “My pleasure, lady,” he continued in elvish. He kissed her in front of them all and she let him.

  Aganor showed them to a large table, where wine and glasses were already in place. Once seated, most of the Mages looked expectantly at Renlyss, as if she was to serve them all.

  “What?” she said to more than half of the Mages who were staring at her. “I am not some Order whore, here to amuse and serve you blithering idiots! If you want wine, pour it yourself.” She continued in elvish and only Darian understood how she berated them. He tried his best to refrain from laughing at their expense. But when she said “Arrogant, egotistical, small minded

  idiots!” he lost his composure. It was a rarity to see her so upset and it really turned him on.

  The Mages bristled at the way she spoke to them. She sat to Darian’s right, which was a place of honor and usually reserved for the Shangmarrum’s second in command. Yet Aganor did not put up a fuss.

  “I call this meeting to order!” Darian said. “First order of business, if any of you ever feel the need to come and remind me o
f an upcoming meeting again, I will strike you down where you stand. I am no nitwit. Do not treat me like one.” A few of the Mages looked around to see who he could be speaking of, but Betremen and Declan wisely betrayed nothing.

  “Why is she here, Darian?” asked Declan Rothbane, a Dregian Mage of considerable power. “It is against our laws and rules to have a woman present during our proceedings.”

  “No, it isn’t, Declan,” responded Darian. “It states in Order Law, Book I, page 56, paragraph 3 that, ‘No outsiders shall be present during intimate discussion of Order details.’ I do not intend to discuss anything that cannot be said out in the open. When you requested this meeting, you said it was to discuss our plans for the near future, including when we would be leaving and our destination. Now, unless I am missing something, none of this would be considered intimate Order details.”

  “Why is she here, Darian?” asked Declan again, flushed with embarrassment. Damn it! Darian was wily and intelligent, always better at everything than everyone else and it was really exhausting.

  “Because I asked her to accompany me. I don’t need a reason, Declan. We are in Kiri A’ Nouell by the grace of Galavad, lest you forget. Having a representative from the Ghinkar seemed like a wise idea. Especially if we are to rebuild the ties between us,” Darian explained. “Do any of you have a problem with her presence?” When none of them said anything, Darian continued, “Good. We have more important matters to discuss.”

  “I think it would be a mistake to travel to the Haunted Lands before trying to free the Mages, Darian,” said Graven of the Thurk order. He was tall and lean with long, light brown hair and blue eyes. The blood red robes of his order draped around him, making him look imposing.

  “I cannot help the Mages right now, Graven. I can do nothing for them until I find that book. The Dark Mage is too strong and he will kill us all. There is no way to know how many he has recruited, either.” More than one Mage was nodding in agreement with Darian’s words.

  “No Mage in their right mind would consort with him,” said Graven.

  “You forget the obvious,” Darian said in a tone that was not harsh or meant to be a rebuke. “He will force as many as he can to join with him. Those that refuse, he will kill.”

  “How do you know this? How can you be so sure?” asked Graven.

  “Because it’s what I would do,” said Darian, matter of factly. His assessment made their blood turn cold. But it didn’t stop there. It was Darian’s quiet tone and his self-assuredness that

  was really disturbing.

  “What do you suggest we do then, Darian?” asked Aganor, taking the conversation away

  from the other Mages.

  “We need to begin planning for the upcoming journey. I would like it if some of you came with me, but I will not force you to go. Where I go, it is extremely dangerous and death is a very real possibility for any who join me. However, I also recognize that I cannot do this alone. I would appreciate your help. If we succeed in this, then we will go after Mogan Dar,” his tone turned from conciliatory to venomous.

  He was doing his best to try to win them over to his cause. He wasn’t entirely sure it was working. Only a Mage of The Order could so completely hide what they were thinking and feeling.

  “Do you honestly think we have a shot at winning this, Darian?” asked Alvos from behind them. He was leaning casually on the wall as he listened attentively.

  He’d obviously imbibed a healing potion before returning to them, as he was healed and whole once more. The blood was gone from his clothes and face and he gave Darian his full attention. Darian motioned for Alvos to take a seat at the table with them.

  “Strangely, yes I do,” Darian responded, once Alvos was seated.

  “What will our course be?” Alvos queried, leaning back casually in his chair. He was tall and lean and his black pants fit him snugly. The unbuttoned white shirt he wore revealed his firm, tanned chest. His blonde hair hung down his back to graze his hips.

  “We must travel through the wilderness and over Blavven Krill to Kaleika Bay. From there, we must board a ship that will take us to the Haunted Lands,” Darian replied.

  “Is there no way to circumvent Blavven Krill?” asked Alvos, golden green eyes intense.

  “No, Alvos,” replied Darian. “To do this would cost us too much time. Time we do not have to spare. Besides, I think we can handle whatever’s in Blavven Krill. Don’t you?” asked Darian, the ghost of a smile touching his lips.

  Alvos smiled, “As usual, your arrogance knows no bounds.” Darian pretended to look offended.

  “Proficient, not arrogant. Arrogance will get you killed, Alvos.” Darian’s eyes glittered, but Renlyss could tell he was not angry, but amused.

  Hmmm, interesting, she thought to herself.

  “Well brother, proficient then. Forgive my mistake,” Alvos said condescendingly.

  Darian decided to ignore the irreverent remark and the tone in which it was delivered and said instead, “The Haunted Lands is a very dangerous place. We must be well prepared and

  better equipped. We will need to pack everything we think we’ll need, but also pack for unex-

  pected occurrences. Do you all have a magical haversack?”

  They spent the remainder of the meeting going over an extensive list of items that each

  Mage would need for spell components among other things.

  “Tomorrow morning, Alvos and I will go to Al-Dan-Tir and gather the needed supplies,” Darian announced, much to their surprise. Alvos looked as if he might object, but thought better of it and merely nodded his head in defeated acceptance.

  “Darian, I have to ask you, where and how did you obtain the information about the book’s location?” asked Alvos.

  “Why does it matter as long as I was able to obtain it?” Darian asked, his eyes glittering dangerously.

  He’s angry now, Renlyss mused. She marveled at how easy he was to read now. Is it because I’m his consort? No, that cannot be, she thought irritably. Stop getting distracted! She chided herself. I promised him I would pay attention!

  “It matters because I get the feeling that there’s much you’re not telling us. Secrets can get us killed, Darian. Especially yours,” Alvos said matter-of-factly.

  “All in good time, Alvos,” the threatening promise was clear in Darian’s voice and not one Mage present escaped the threat.

  “Darian, may I have a word?” asked Aganor after all the others left. He needed to stop the young Mage before he, too, left.

  “Yes, Aganor?” asked Darian, tiredly. He hated this shit, hated leading them. This was never how he saw his life turning out.

  Without waiting for Darian’s concession, Aganor enacted a sound shield around them, effectively cutting Renlyss out of their loop. Darian’s eyes turned cold as he glared at his men-tor.

  “What is this?” asked Darian, suddenly on guard.

  “Relax son, I mean you no harm,” responded Aganor, looking injured that Darian thought otherwise.

  “Sorry Aganor, trust comes in very short supply with me these days,” replied Darian.

  “These days?” Aganor joked. “Trust has ever been in very short supply with you. More than most, Darian, and with good reason,” said Aganor fondly. He knew one way he could put the young Mage at ease, reached for his flask, and proffered it to Darian, who took it without question and drank deeply.

  “What can I do for you?” asked Darian conciliatorily.

  “Talk to me, Darian. Like you once did. Trust me, as you once did. I am not here to harm you, nor threaten your reign over The Order. I am here to pledge my undying loyalty to you and

  to The Order, as it should have been so long ago. Let me help you bear this burden, son. You need

  not do this alone,” Aganor held his hands out toward Darian, hoping to forestall the young Mage’s

  anger.

  “I do not want to do what needs to be done, Aganor. I have never wanted this. Never! All of this thrust o
n me, as if I am some needy whore. I do not like them questioning my every move. If these bastards think they can do a better job, then let them try! I’ve had it with their sanctimonious crap and I will not hesitate to strike them down the next time they cross me. Especially Declan and Betremen.” Darian was irate and Aganor moved quickly to appease him.

  “What happened, Darian? What have Declan and Betremen done?” asked Aganor, proffering his flask once more.

  Darian drank deeply before answering. Aganor always kept Cryvellan brandy in his flask and Darian was forever grateful. The liquid burned its way down his throat, purifying him and easing his volatility.

  “Today, they came to remind me of our appointment. How stupid do they think I am? And this is not the first time they have interfered. I grow weary of it. From now on, the punishment will be dire. I cannot have Mages running amuck, lacking guidance and discipline. When you came to Kiri A’ Nouell, you swore that all present were loyal to Delvishan’s plan and loyal to me. Yet this does not seem to be the case, Aganor.”

  “I apologize, Darian. In Mogan Dar, Delvishan came to us all in our dreams. We all swore

  our undying fealty to you and Delvishan. I now know that bringing Trétorna was a mistake and I accept responsibility for that. I am sorry Darian, truly I am,” he said, placing his hand on the young Mage’s left forearm.

  “That flask empty or what?” Darian asked and all the pent-up tension drained out of Aganor at the young Mage’s lighthearted comment. He was still able to reach him. This was good.

  “So, is beautiful Renlyss the elf you are in love with? The one you were so disturbed about when last we met?” Darian could see the love that Aganor had for him reflected in his eyes. Aganor honestly cared about him and that was something Darian had always known.

  “No, Aganor, she’s not.”

  “Then who?” asked Aganor curiously.

  “Tynuviel,” Darian said quietly. Too quietly and Aganor knew there was something deeper going on.

  “Tynuviel? Galavad’s daughter, Tynuviel? Princess of Kiri A’ Nouell, Tynuviel?” Aganor could not hide his shock. “You have always loved all things fine in life,” said Aganor, amused.