The Exxar Chronicles: Book 02 - Emissary

by Neal Jones

  "Stop it!" she spat to her hazy reflection. She stood, wiping her eyes and squaring her shoulders. "You are a daughter of the House of Valayne, not some scared little girl!"

  "Talking to yourself is a sign of madness."

  Vatra whirled, a startled scream escaping her before she clamped a hand over her mouth. "Sierik!"

  He chuckled as he emerged from one of the stalls, a glass of wine in one hand. "Don't worry, cousin, no one can hear us down here."

  Vatra was so relieved to see him that she fell into his embrace, clutching him tightly and laying her head against his broad, firm chest. "How long have you been down here?"

  "Over an hour. I was starting to think you would never come."

  She looked up at him, blinking back fresh tears, and she scolded herself again for feeling so weak and helpless. "I had to get away," she said, stepping back and wiping her eyes. "It was all starting to be…too much." She turned to the mirror, smoothing the front of her gown, and arranging her veil back into its proper position.

  Sierik reached for her hand. "Stay a little longer," he whispered into her ear. "You and I haven't been in this room for a very long time." His arms slipped around her waist, his lips nuzzled her neck, and she closed her eyes as she leaned back into him. She could feel his hardness as he pressed himself against, could smell the sickening sweetness of the wine on his breath.

  "Sierik, I can't…" she moaned. "I must get back soon or Prokal will start wondering about me…"

  But he was already unbuttoning the front of her bodice, just enough to slip his hand beneath, and he ripped a hole in her undergarment, just enough to slip his fingers beneath her lace…

  …and she gasped as he plunged them inside of her, rubbing her just right, and she couldn't control herself any longer. She turned to face him, unbuckling his pants and shoving them down as he pushed her against the counter of the vanity. He removed his fingers and thrust himself inside of her, his rhythm frantic yet controlled, his mouth covering hers. She sucked on his tongue, and his hands quickly unbuttoned the rest of her bodice. He rubbed her stiff nipples through the lace of her undergarment, and she moaned softly, writhing beneath him as she pulled off his jacket and rapidly unbuttoned his shirt. She pushed up his undershirt, running her fingers over the bare skin of his chest and back, causing him to moan into her mouth as he bit her lower lip. She teased his nipples, worrying them and pinching them, turning his moans into growls of lust and fire.

  Their pace quickened, and Sierik began nibbling her neck and her ear. "No!" she whispered. "Don't leave a mark!"

  "I'll be careful," he gasped. He bit her lobe just then, moaning once more as he climaxed, and Vatra screamed again as she reached hers. Her fingers clawed at his back, her nails drawing fresh blood, and she wrapped her legs around him, locking his body tighter against hers. Sierik kissed her, silencing her screams, as his entire body shuddered one more time, the last of his seed bursting inside of her.

  Vatra held him close for several moments afterwards, not wanting to leave the comfort and security of his embrace. Both of them were breathing heavily, and Sierik laid his head against her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her as he nuzzled the bare skin of her neck one last time.

  Vatra finally pushed him away and stood up. She buttoned her bodice and reached for her veil which had fallen onto the vanity. Sierik buckled his pants, buttoned his shirt, and reached for his jacket. "Was this the time, do you think?" he asked quietly.

  "The time for what?" She wiped a hand across the mirror to clear away the dust.

  "Is it safe now for you to keep my seed? You can allow Prokal to think it's his."

  She looked down for a moment. "I don't know," she said honestly. "You're right, I suppose I could."

  He embraced her from behind once more, kissing her neck softly. "I love you," he whispered, and she closed her eyes, clamping them tight to ward off the tears.

  After another few moments, Vatra pulled away and started for the door. "Goodbye, Sierik," she said without back. "I will miss you."

  He waited for several minutes after she was gone, drinking the rest of the wine, and when the bottle was empty he hurled it against the mirror. The bottle shattered, breaking the mirror as well, and Sierik roared his pain to an empty room. It echoed in the desolate corridor beyond, and when he returned to the celebration hall he demanded another bottle from a passing servant.

  Vatra was back at her place at the head table, and she watched her cousin enter, moving to the empty chair next to his wife. He leaned over as he sat, whispering something into her ear, and she giggled. Vatra reached over to grasp her husband's hand, and he turned to her, momentarily startled. He gave her a slight smile, bringing up her hand to kiss the back of it, and then returned to his conversation with Lord Gyan.

  It was time to serve the twelfth course, and Vatra realized that she wasn't feeling as full as she had been a few minutes before. She signaled a servant who was walking by with a wine pitcher, and just then the kitchen staff appeared with steaming trays of baked meat stacked upon them. Vatra selected three thick slices that were pinker than some of the others, and then smothered them in the leftover cream sauce from the phen'an course.

  There was more music, more dancers, and the guests became more loud and more celebratory as the afternoon faded into evening. By the time the sixteenth course was served – chilled omus topped with fresh dryn berries - most of the lords and ladies were passed out in their chairs or dancing together in the center of the room as a waltz played overhead.

  Prokal stopped a passing servant and murmured something to him. Moments later the music ceased and a chime rang three times throughout the hall. The guests in the center of the room stopped dancing, and those at the tables paused in their drinking to look up. Some that were passed out stirred, lifting their heads and blinking in mild confusion.

  R'Daak stood and proclaimed, "Lord emperor and lady empress, honored guests, it has been a great pleasure for me and my new bride to share this evening with you. The food has been superb, the wine exquisite, but now the hour grows late, and my wife and I are ready to retire to our chambers. We thank you for sharing this momentous occasion with us, and we wish you many blessings and prosperity in your days and years to come." He turned to Erengaar. "Lord emperor, may we have your leave?"

  "You may. Evening star to both of you."

  Vatra rose and echoed the response with her husband. "Evening star."

  They bowed to Erengaar and Larewyn and then Vatra took Prokal's hand. As they descended the stage the music began once more, and the guests stood as they passed the tables. Vatra dared a sideways glance at Sierik as she passed, but his chair – as well as Lyka's – was empty.

  ( 4 )

  Vatra thought that she was being led to her apartments, but at the entrance to the north wing Prokal paused and turned the other direction. Vatra realized that he was taking her to the east wing, which was where the current guest quarters for visiting dignitaries and noblemen were located. Once inside their suite, Prokal closed the door and locked it. Vatra had only been in this part of the palace many years ago, when she was quite young, and she took a few moments to admire the antique fixtures and classical tapestries that adorned the room.

  "I trust you understand why we aren't spending our first night together in your chambers," Prokal said, removing his uniform jacket.

  "Of course," Vatra replied, laying her veil in the nearby armchair. The sitting room was quiet spacious, and the holoscreen on the far wall displayed a view of the city. Vatra crossed the distance to it while unbuttoning her bodice. "Breathtaking, don't you think?"

  "Yes," her husband agreed, unfastening his collar and removing his shirt. He laid it aside and then gently embraced Vatra from behind. "I know what you must think of me," he murmured into her ear.

  She turned to face him, welcoming his arms around her. She looked into his eyes. "Then tell me, because I am not sure myself of what I should think of you."

  He smiled, and she was sur
prised by the genuine warmth in his dark eyes. "You are afraid of me. You think that I am cold, distant, and that because I wear a uniform I am a stern man."

  Vatra could only nod, waiting for him to continue.

  He leaned down to brush his lips against hers. "You also think that I am strange because of my faith, because I follow a religion that is considered backwards and primitive by most of our people."

  "Yes," she finally whispered, too anxious to say anything more.

  He nuzzled her ear, the same lobe that Sierik had bitten only hours before. "Relax, lady princess, I am not your enemy, and even though I have been with only one woman in my whole life, I knew how to please her well."

  Vatra almost laughed out loud, but caught herself in time. One woman?? Was he serious?

  "Computer, dim lights by forty percent." The room became filled with shadows as Prokal fumbled clumsily with the remainder of the buttons on her bodice. She helped him and then let the dress fall to the floor. She was grateful for the darkness because he wouldn't see the hole over her crotch that Sierik had ripped earlier. Prokal reached behind to unzip the undergarment while trying to nibble playfully at her neck. He only succeeded in giving her pain, and she winced as her underwear pooled around her ankles beside the gown.

  Prokal lifted his bride, now only in her underlace and carried into the bed chamber. He laid her on top of the bed and then proceeded to finish undressing. The light in here, too, was dim, and Vatra was horrified to see that Prokal was actually older than his face appeared. His hair was dark, with only a few streaks of gray at the temples, but that which covered his chest was thinning and had turned silver long ago. Nor was his chest as firm and masculine as it appeared when he wore his uniform, and Vatra knew even before he revealed it what his cock would look like. Even though it was only half hard, it was obviously only four or five inches in length; definitely much shorter and not anywhere near as thick as Sierik's, or even Tiegran's.

  As soon as he was naked, Prokal climbed on top of her and began kissing his wife, as clumsy with his tongue as he was with hands. She could taste the foulness of whatever tea he had consumed at the feast, and she struggled not to gag as he forced his tongue through her lips. He removed her underlace from both her waist and her breasts, and he pinched her nipples, too hard, and Vatra winced again, resisting the urge to cry out in pain.

  Now he was trying to enter her, and that too proved a difficult task for the great second lovar, and Vatra realized just how long it had probably been since he had last made love to his late wife. He was clearly inexperienced with foreplay, and with sex in general, for once he was inside of her, he began to thrust himself in a most unceremonious and unloving manner. Vatra gasped from the pain, and Prokal, too, made a most un-masculine sound as he pounded her. She finally realized that he, too, was gasping, but it was coming out in short, quick breaths that sounded like squeaks. His thin pelvis was banging against hers, and were she not in so much pain, Vatra would have found the entire scenario laughable to the point of hysterics.

  Prokal gave one final, squeaky gasp, and then rolled off his new bride, his small cock making a gentle plop as it left her. She wasn't sure what to do, and, in truth, she was aching so badly down there that she didn't want to move for several minutes at least.

  Prokal went to the bathroom to fetch a towel. His thin form was even more unflattering in the harsh light from the room's doorway, and when he returned he had another towel for Vatra. She wiped herself, and then rolled onto her side to face him. He tossed his towel aside and crawled beneath the covers beside her.

  "I hope that I have pleased you, lady princess," he said softly.

  "Yes," she said solemnly. "Yes, my lord, you have."

  He smiled, like a boy who has received a great compliment from his tutor, and he kissed her forehead. "Don't worry. I have no seed to give you. A childhood illness left me barren."

  "Oh," was all Vatra could think to say. "I'm sorry."

  "It's all right. Evening star, my wife."

  "Evening star," she murmured.

  He pressed the com panel beside the bed to douse the lights, and then rolled onto his side away from her. She rolled away from him, settling her spine against his, and closed her eyes.

  She was so exhausted that she fell asleep before Prokal uttered his first snore.

  ( 5 )

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" Vatra leaned down to look through the viewport over her son's shoulder.

  Jharek nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah," he said, but his tone was sad.

  Vatra laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We will be back someday, Jhar. This world is our home, and we're only leaving it for a time."

  He looked up at her. "But for how long?"

  "I don't know," she said honestly, "but it won't be long. I promise."

  He smiled then, and she drew comfort from it. He turned back to the viewport, and Vatra settled back into her seat beside him.

  The Jha'Drok battle carrier K'lat N'vor, flagship of the 26th Legion and personal command of Second Lovar Prokal R'Daak, angled out of orbit of the Jha'Drok homeworld. Its stern prow sliced the invisible currents of space as the ship set course for distant stars. As soon as it was clear of the homeworld's gravitational field, the stardrive engines came to life, and, in a flash of blue-green brilliance, it was gone.