Tales of the Southern Kingdoms (One Volume Edition)

by Barbara G. Tarn

  Tarun passed a leg over Keiko’s body and sat astride her. He sought to bury her beneath his weight, then pulled back, changing his mind. He grabbed a swatch of her hair and wrenched her face close to his.

  "On your belly," he ordered.

  Tarun flipped her over and pushed her face against the pillow. He took the other pillow, lifted her hips and positioned it beneath her. He wrenched one arm forcefully behind her back.

  Keiko’s muffled protests echoed from the pillow. "What are you doing?"

  "Considering you command me to serve you against my will," Tarun said, "at least spare me the view of your treacherous face. We will do it as the animals. I know you will enjoy it."

  "Take your foul hands off me," Keiko yelled. "How dare you rebel against me."

  Tarun stroked and pinched Keiko’s buttocks. He reached around and fondled her breasts. Despite her pain, Keiko moaned and heaved lustily. It wasn't really anything new for her, after Ramesh's training. She knew how powerful that way could be, and prepared to suck the energy of the young animal trying to hurt her.

  Keiko pressed her buttocks further into the air and moved her legs farther apart, offering herself to him, demanding that he force his light into her, so she could have more power to exact her revenge.

  But Hayato, weak as he was, rushed into the room and hit Tarun over the head, knocking him unconscious.

  "What are you doing, Keiko?" he asked. Keiko had gone over the edge. She laughed and cried maniacally. She massaged her aching shoulder as she struggled to turn and face her brother.

  "You're right. We should have all done it at the same time," she panted. "Why don't you fetch a woman and come here with her? When Tarun comes back to his senses..."

  "No," Hayato interrupted. "You're not going to feed off of either of us."

  Hayato stared at his sister. He looked sad, although in the past she would have actually felt what he felt. But now there was a wall between them.

  Hayato whirled and stormed out of the room without a word and Keiko slumped on the bed with a moan.

  ***

  When Tarun awoke for the third time, he was spread-eagled and bound to the bed. Crouched between his legs, Keiko glared at him.

  "Clever, clever little prince," she said. "You would have given me a lot of power. We were so close." Keiko gently grasped Tarun’s genitals and cradled them in her hands. She stared at them inquisitively. "I’m sure it wasn't exactly what you had in mind."

  "You're mad," Tarun whispered, still dazed.

  "I am. I am quite mad – mad about you. You are mine. You will never go back to Rajendra, Prince Tarun. You will stay here with me forever."

  Keiko removed her hands and leaned over him climbing, cat-like, towards his face. She closed her eyes and stroked his cheekbones, his nose, his forehead, as a blind person would do. She pressed her thumbs against his lips, kissed his weary brown eyes, forcing him to close them. She showered his face with little kisses, until she felt him pant. Then she kissed his lips and dipped her tongue in his mouth.

  Tarun tried to resist, to control his desire, but his body overruled his mind. Keiko was unbelievably skilled as she touched him, instantly bringing him to arousal against his will. She offered him her breast, but when he tried to grab her nipple with his lips, she pulled back and slapped him.

  "So, now you want it, huh?" she mocked. "Your appetite has returned."

  "Please," Tarun begged. "Untie me. I won't rebel. Please, let me touch you."

  "Do you surrender?" Keiko asked.

  Tarun closed his eyes, exhausted. Tears spilled from his lids.

  "Yes. Do what you please with me," he whispered, knowing he had lost more than control of his body.

  ***

  "The princess of Akkora!"

  King Arjun rose and so did Indira when Princess Lalita entered the throne room with a worried expression on her pretty face.

  "My lord, is it true that my betrothed has vanished?" she asked, forgetting to curtsy.

  "Unfortunately, my lady," King Arjun answered, depressed. "I am afraid his fate will be the same as that of your brother."

  "No!" Lalita exclaimed, horrified. "I will not let the Sect kill him like they did with Yash!"

  "Lalita, we have no power against the Black Dame," Indira pointed out, trying to calm down the guest. She loved Lalita because Tarun loved her, and she was really looking forward to spending some time with her before heading for her husband's palace.

  "We do," Lalita assured her. "She's Human, like us. If she can draw power from the Pond of Dark Magic, so can I! I will use it to free Tarun and get rid of her!"

  "You will be corrupted by that evil, you will become part of the wicked Sect!" Indira protested.

  "Well, if it allows me to save Tarun, I'll gladly sacrifice myself. But maybe once he's free, he can save me."

  "Oh, Lalita, I hope you can do this!" Indira hugged her on the verge of tears. "But we're just princesses..."

  "Indira, I had four brothers," Lalita replied. "I can hold a sword. And your father has a Genn blacksmith, he could make me a special sword. I can win, Indira, I can save your brother and not lose him like I lost mine!"

  "Princess Lalita, your words are very kind," King Arjun said, touched. "I will call Silverstar now and ask him what he thinks of your idea."

  Silverstar was a tall thin man who hid his golden mane and pointed ears under a big turban. His green eyes stared at the princess of Akkora for a moment before he gave his opinion.

  "Princess Lalita is probably right, a woman might succeed where most warriors would fail," he said. "I will make her a sword that won't break, but it will not be a magic sword. Any magic she'll have to provide with her strength and her love."

  "I am ready," Lalita assured.

  ***

  Tarun woke up in Keiko's arms. The windowless bedroom gave him the creeps and the Black Dame's presence was oppressive.

  She caressed him, and he tried to push her away. This only aroused her more and she rolled over him, pinning him to the bed with her weight.

  "Enough!" he protested, but she closed his mouth with hers.

  Fighting was useless, his anger wasn't able to explode, controlled by the dark power of the Black Dame. He was so exasperated, he wanted to scream, but he wasn't allowed to. Sometimes he was allowed to cry as Keiko enjoyed catching his tears with her lips, but had no other way to let out his frustration.

  Then one day he saw Lalita coming in instead of Keiko. He thought he was dreaming, and stared wide-eyed at his betrothed, who came over to the bed with a sweet smile. She was wearing male clothes and carried a strange, straight sword, she was even more beautiful than his memory of her.

  "Lalita!" he whispered, incredulous and happy.

  "How are you?" she asked gently.

  "Take me away!" he pleaded, embracing her. She was real. She wasn't just a vision. How did she get there?

  "Of course, beloved, calm down," she said holding him tight.

  None of them noticed Keiko, who pointed her hand and Tarun let go of Lalita with a scream of pain. Lalita jumped to her feet, ready to fight.

  "Leave him alone!" she demanded. "I came to take him away!"

  "My my, an apprentice of the Dark Power," Keiko said, unimpressed.

  "The Dark Power is not exclusive. I can draw on it as much as you," Lalita said between clenched teeth.

  "Of course, but you're not as strong as me," Keiko smirked.

  Lalita unsheathed her sword and attacked. Tarun stared from the bed at the strange duel, too weak to move.

  Lalita's blade met an invisible shield. Keiko sneered and counter-attacked. Lalita collapsed with a scream of pain when a magic ball of fire hit her, sizzling her hip.

  "Keiko, no!" Tarun yelled, trying to pull himself together and help his betrothed.

  The almond eyes glanced at him, then a snake of darkness wrapped Lalita in its spires and crushed her. The silver sword fell to the ground, the black snake vanished, and Lalita lay lifeless.

 
Keiko's laughter couldn't cover Tarun's screams.

  Keiko turned serious again. With a gesture, she made both princess and weapon vanish. She turned towards the bed, and her eyes locked with Tarun's.

  "Did you really think she could save you?" she asked ominously.

  Tarun couldn't find the breath to answer.

  ***

  King Arjun and Indira were consulting with the captain of the Royal Guard, worried for Princess Lalita's mission, when her lifeless body appeared suddenly in the room.

  Indira screamed, and even though he wasn't young anymore, the captain was the first to reach the body of the dead princess.

  "Your majesty, she failed!" he announced, heart-broken. "May I try to avenge her and save our prince myself? I feel so much hatred for the Black Dame, I think I can strangle her with my own hands!"

  "What if you fail too?" King Arjun asked in anguish. "I need you here!"

  "Naveen can take my place. Your majesty, it would be an honor for me to die to save Prince Tarun. The princess of Akkora was bold, but she was no warrior..."

  Indira was sobbing shamelessly. King Arjun looked at her and at Lalita's body, then slowly nodded.

  "Don't let her kill you, my friend. I want you back with Tarun."

  "Your majesty." The captain bowed deeply and picked up the silver sword.

  He vanished in a swirl of black smoke, never to return.

  Tarun no longer needed to be restrained. He was free to walk the underground city, because he had no idea where the exit was. He had tried a tunnel once, and got lost in the dark maze where Keiko had easily found him. She brought him back in the blink of an eye, and the punishment hadn't been sweet.

  He had been to the temple. He had seen the Fountain of Power and the black statue of the Bloodthirsty Goddess, but couldn't feel the call, that magic call that had made spellbound the captain of his father's guard, now a faithful member of the Sect. Keiko had teased him, he was too pure, therefore he'd never be able to use the Dark Magic of the Pond to free himself.

  He had lost track of time, between orgies and painful sessions, during which Keiko had whipped him or tortured his body in some other twisted way. So much for his royal blood, he was treated worse than a slave or a prostitute.

  His mouth refused to open, to beg for mercy, to chant to the evil Goddess of the Sect. He spent all his free time following the ray of sun coming in from the opening in the ceiling of the huge cave – until only gray light came in. The monsoon had brought clouds over the mountains and part of the flattened floor was muddy from the constant rain. The change in the weather meant that at least four months had passed. An eternity, torn between pleasure and pain, drained daily of whatever energy was left in him.

  Tarun slipped deeper into the well of desperation. Darkness was slowly choking him. He no longer remembered his father's face, nor his sister Indira's, nor any other face that had once been familiar. He no longer felt his body. He knew he had committed horrible acts with it, but they were of no moment, for he could no longer identify with them. All that he once was was no more. What need was there to stay and be the new pawn of darkness? It was time to leave. The next surge of power would set him free.

  "Help me, Gods," he prayed. "Give me the strength to abandon what I failed to save."

  Tarun felt disconnected. Suddenly he saw it, the body that used to be called Prince Tarun – now a sex-crazed, demon-ridden thing eternally hungry with lust.

  He pitied himself, pitied the body that he had held such high expectations for, none of which would ever be fulfilled. He pitied as well the other body, the woman once known as Keiko, the powerful Black Dame, High Priestess of the Sect – still not powerful enough to free them both.

  "I forgive you," he whispered to the two bodies, intertwined in passion. He wasn't afraid anymore... and knew he never would be again.

  The power of their lust exploded again in the windowless room. Keiko moaned with pleasure, then screamed in horror as Tarun’s energy faded, taking his light and his life along with it.

  Books of the Immortals – Air

  Winged Jesminder, a Sila, searches for her Destiny (aka love) as her Human friend, Sarita the sculptor, does the same. Meanwhile Takeshi the soldier flees his country for a murder he doesn’t remember committing. As Takeshi looks for his past, Kumar the adventurer runs away from his –from and his wife, Princess Indira, who he rescued from an evil fate only for money. Their paths converge, leading them to the final confrontation with the Black Dame, High Priestess of the Sect. Winged beings, water people, shape-shifting dragons and the Immortal, Air, which likes to meddle in Human affairs for its own reasons, come together in a story of bitterness and love, darkness and light.

  The last king of Akkora

  Part one: Jeevan and Bindya

  "Hello, Jeevan," Bindya greeted hugging him. They were meeting as usual in the servant's quarters courtyard and Ajay was tagging along for decency's sake.

  "Hello," he answered with a smile, squeezing her in his arms and ignoring the glances of two elder servants who barely hid their amusement for the couple's youthful love.

  "Hey, little sister, you're not married yet!" Ajay teased, hands on his hips.

  Bindya let go of Jeevan to frown at her brother. "Am I not betrothed? What's wrong with showing my love to my future husband?"

  "You're not my wife yet," Jeevan smiled. "And you know how people talk. Your brother's presence keeps us safe, but what if he has enough of chaperoning you?"

  "All right, I'll have to keep him on our side. What can I do for you, brother?"

  Ajay laughed aloud. He had been friends with Jeevan since childhood and has seen the love-story blossom between his best friend and his sister. Bindya was now almost twenty and her father had joyfully accepted Jeevan's timely proposal. Bindya and Jeevan were bound to get married soon and live happily ever after – without Ajay.

  He didn't mind going with them everywhere until the ceremony, and often looked the other way when they needed to be alone. Both he and Jeevan were twenty-four and all three worked as servants at the royal palace of Agharek, with different tasks: Bindya was a washer-woman, Ajay was on the staff of Prince Kunal – the haughty heir to the throne, and Jeevan worked in the administration offices, as he could read and write.

  Their life was quiet in the service of the royal family, and the servants' quarters were a closely knitted community where there was always help available.

  One day the king ordered a great party for the twenty-sixth birthday of his firstborn, and all the palace servants were employed in the sumptuous great hall for the occasion. And that day something changed, because Prince Kunal noticed Bindya's sweet beauty, and when he saw her talking to Ajay and another servant he didn't know, he didn't hesitate to join them, in spite of the fact she was way below him.

  "You're one of mine," he told Ajay.

  "Yes, my lord," Ajay bowed.

  "What's your name again?"

  "Ajay."

  "And who is this beautiful maiden?"

  "My sister Bindya, my lord." Ajay was a little worried by the way the prince was staring at his sister – as if she was a prey he was ready to capture.

  Bindya bowed and didn't avert her eyes while Jeevan observed the prince from up close for the first time.

  "I shall dance with your sister," Kunal said, never taking his eyes off of Bindya. With all the princesses and noblewomen in the room, he was smitten by a servant.

  "She is betrothed to me," Jeevan said. "We shall marry soon."

  Kunal glared at him. "You don't address a nobleman," he said haughtily. Then he turned back to Bindya with a smile. "Come."

  She smiled back, amused.

  "I'll be back soon," she whispered kissing Jeevan's cheek.

  Ajay followed them with a worried stare.

  "Our lord is kind of domineering," Jeevan said.

  "Be careful, he's dangerous," Ajay warned. "He's spoiled and can do what he wants."

  Jeevan didn't comment. He was following Bin
dya's dance and probably hadn't heard a word. Ajay shook his head with a sigh.

  "That insolent young man is really your betrothed?" Kunal asked through the slow dance steps.

  "Yes, my lord, we shall marry in a month," Bindya answered.

  "Wouldn't you prefer somebody more important, and richer?"

  "No, my lord, I love him."

  Kunal laughed at her naivete – which made her even more endearing.

  "Does love exist?" he asked. "I doubt it. Not for someone like you: poor, without a dowry..."

  "I have enough to live, my lord, and Jeevan is working even harder for our married life."

  "Wouldn't you prefer a life of luxury by my side?"

  "No, my lord, thank you."

  Strange woman! She wasn't interested in him and preferred a commoner with no background.

  "You're beautiful, you know?" he said as the dance steps brought them very close.

  "Thank you, my lord," she answered, completely indifferent to his charm. "May I rest now?"

  Kunal let her go, annoyed.

  "What are you doing?" Mansoor joined him a little suspicious. His only surviving brother was twenty-two and had noticed he had danced with a servant.

  "Nothing," he snapped, still staring at Bindya.

  Mansoor followed his gaze. "What are you up to?" he asked again. "Kunal, Kanya won't be happy if you cheat on her again..."

  "I don't care," he shrugged. "I want to know everything about that girl."

  "She's a commoner! You can't consider her, not even as a concubine!" Mansoor protested.

  Kunal glared at him and Mansoor hung his head, gulping down his objections. Kunal knew he'd be able to do as he pleased. His father might still be the king, but he had his own court.

  "Is your daughter in?" Kunal asked haughtily, without getting off the saddle.