The Rise of Nazil- Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy

by Aaron-Michael Hall

  She turned, kissing and biting his full lips. As her breathing calmed, she stroked his face, moving from his arms. “We—we must dress,” she said, reaching for her clothing. “I have to meet with my brothers soon.”

  Thalassa shook her head, trying to clear the dizzying haze from her mind. She was aware of what had happened, but couldn’t understand how.

  “I don’t think you should come again, Wosen. Regardless of our desire, we can’t do this anymore. Jahno is my husband, and I love him. Please.”

  “That didn’t matter earlier. If your love is so profound, how could you make love to me?”

  “The same way that you did to me. Has your love for Hibret faded?”

  “No,” he admitted, after several silent moments. His love hadn’t changed, but neither had his hunger for Thalassa.

  “Please, for both our sakes, don’t come again. Jahno will be returning in a few weeks, and I need to concentrate on my husband and our family. I need no further distractions.”

  “Am I a distraction?” he said, grabbing her wrist, and resting her hand on his groin. For a moment, she enjoyed the feeling, yearning to taste of him.

  “You—you are,” she said, snatching her hand away.

  Wosen stepped closer, pushing her hard against the table. He clutched her wrist, twisting as he roughly kissed her lips and neck. When she moaned, he released her arm, forcing his hand into her trousers. His fingers moved with precision as he kissed her again, biting her neck and shoulders.

  Thalassa’s knees trembled, the explosion of pleasure nearly causing her to fall against him. When her motion calmed, Wosen retracted his hand, licking the fingers clean.

  “Are you certain that you don’t want me to come again?”

  “I—I’m certain.” She lied, still catching her breath as she hastily dressed. “I need to go. My brothers are expecting me.”

  “So, should I come at the same time on the morrow, then?”

  She turned, admiring every part of him, and wanting more. Before she realized, she nodded, and then rushed out of the room.

  Thalassa waved away the guards at the end of the corridor, feeling ashamed of her behavior, and continuing desire. Even as her thoughts turned to her husband, the memory of Wosen caused her knees to weaken. She steadied herself against the wall, taking a deep breath.

  She shook her head, rushing to her chambers to wash the evidence of her indiscretion away. For the first time in many seasons, she let her long raven hair remain loose. Donning a beautiful amethyst gown, she smoothed her hair, applying some oil to her wrist and neck.

  When she entered Pentanimir’s solar, the meeting was already in progress. Thalassa curtsied, taking a seat next to Temian.

  “Pardon my tardiness,” she said, taking her seat.

  “We’ve only just begun,” Temian said, smiling. “Seeing you like this is well worth the wait. You look beautiful with your hair down, and I can’t remember the last you’ve worn a dress. I’ve missed seeing this side of you.”

  “Indeed,” Danimore said. “Your skin glows.”

  “Thank you. It must be my training. With Jahno away, I’m spending more time in the practice chamber,” she said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

  Temian winced, reaching for her neck. “Certainly, not alone. Whomever you were sparring with left some painful marks. You must take care.”

  “Mot—mother will tend me soon, don’t worry. The—the Jasiri are well—skilled and offer a great challenge.”

  “They do,” Temian said. “Mayhaps I could join you on the morrow. We haven’t sparred together in a while. You’ve been so busy training the new guards, the time has gotten away from us.”

  “No,” she said too quickly. “I’m not practicing on the morrow. Mayhaps soon. I’ve missed our sparring, too.”

  “I’ll join you, Brother,” Pentanimir said. “With Symeon preparing Ayrmeis, I’ve neglected my own training. Would you come, too, Dani?”

  “I’m afraid that my prowess has never matched any of yours.”

  “You fight well, Dani, and always have,” Pentanimir said. “Practice will hone your skills. We can meet before noon meal.”

  Danimore nodded reluctantly, sifting through the parchments on the table.

  “Beilzen and Ahvixx returned from Yarah yesterday,” he said.

  “Did they have any trouble on the road?” Thalassa asked.

  “No, nor did they have any issues with Urdan. He was receptive to our proposition, and will be making an announcement soon.”

  “We’ll do the same, and Nzuri sent a message to Spero, as well. It’s our hope that Molag’s associates will prefer gold to allegiance,” Pentanimir said, looking curiously at his sister. “Are you all right, Thalassa?” he asked, noticing her sniffing at the air.

  “What? No. I—I’m fine. The oils, I—I was enjoying the oils Jahno brought from his last trip to Noraa. I hadn’t used them until now.” She lied, afraid that the scent of her encounter with Wosen reeked from her body.

  “The aroma is divine.” Temian leaned closer, inhaling. “Jahno must share this merchant’s name. I’d love to acquire some of the same for Arianna.”

  “I’ll make sure to ask upon his return. If we don’t have any more to discuss, I need to retrieve Suravi. I promised your wife that I wouldn’t be late, Temian. She mentioned that you have a romantic evening planned.”

  Temian’s face flushed. “It’s been far too long since we’ve done so. We’ll dine in our chambers this evening, and spend the remainder of the night alone.”

  “Indeed.” Pentanimir winked.

  “Speaking of, when is Brahanu taking leave?” Danimore asked.

  “In five suns.”

  “So soon?”

  “She needs this time, and I understand that. Besides, Brahanu will inform Julaybeim and Gali of everything that’s happened. We might need their assistance before the end of this.”

  “Kaleo’s, too,” Thalassa said.

  Pentanimir nodded, moving ahead with the short meeting. “Nakaris and Ephron are leaving for Rhoyden soon. When Symeon last visited, they were making excellent progress. With everything we’re facing now, we’ve become remiss. Other than assigning some guards there, we haven’t maintained an adequate presence. Many new families have settled in Rhoyden, but the encampments in the Dessalonian Woods continue to concern me.”

  “Agreed,” Temian said. “Symeon visited the inn and citadel when he escorted the new guards. He didn’t report anything unusual, and Joseph’s updates on their progress come each full moon. “Have you decided who’ll oversee it?”

  “Not as yet. Joseph has done well thus far, and he’ll be rewarded for his service. We’ll need to assign him and his sons promising positions once the new Caretaker is selected. It’s essential to choose people we know. People that we can trust.”

  “Agreed. The farms are needed to supply not only Nazil, but also Yarah. We need no further opposition,” Danimore said. “Even though there’ll eventually be humans in the village, it would serve best to have a Nazilian Caretaker.”

  Pentanimir offered a nod. “We’ll conclude for now, but there’s much to attend to on the morrow. “Rest well.”

  Undeniable Truths

  Jarin entered the solar, taking a seat at the table. “You asked to see me?”

  Urdan drained his cup, glaring.

  “You’re my son, Jarin, and I’ve always been proud of your accomplishments and the man that you’ve become. At no time in all your years did I know that you were a fool.”

  “A fool?”

  “Is there another label you’d prefer?” Urdan asked, opening his arms wide. “How would you refer to a man displaying such behavior?”

  “Speak your mind, Father. I’m in no mood to guess at your words.”

  “Don’t speak of moods to me, not after what you’ve done. Are you truly this naïve or do you do these things merely to vex me?”

  “I’ve done nothing to you.”

  “No?” Urdan’s brows
raised. “Mayhaps I should’ve spoken differently. What about the dishonor you’ve shown your wife?”

  Jarin sprang from his chair. “Why must you continue to talk about Gwendolyn? I’ve done what you commanded. I’ve taken the wife you selected, and now there’s a babe growing in her womb: a babe from my loins. You’ll have your heirs, as you’ve had your marriage. What else do you want from me?”

  “Getting your wife pregnant doesn’t end your responsibility as a husband. Gwendolyn loves you and works tirelessly to make you happy. Why would you cast her aside sniffing behind Sahma Ahllendale? She’s married, Jarin, and will soon have a child, too.”

  “Sahma’s pregnant?”

  “Her husband mentioned it, yes. Allow them their happiness, and start enjoying your own.”

  “You understand nothing,” Jarin spat, pacing the room. No one could understand the love that he and Sahma shared. He’d nearly lost hope, but hearing her speak the words when she visited, confirmed what he knew in his heart. Jarin didn’t want to hurt Gwendolyn, but he wouldn’t forswear his relationship with Sahma.

  “I understand that you were kissing another man’s wife in your mother’s garden,” Urdan said, not hiding any of his displeasure.

  “Who told you that?”

  “Does it matter? What’s important is that your wife believes the lie Lady Ahllendale concocted. At least one of you kept your wits about you.”

  “Gwendolyn came to you with this?”

  “Gwendolyn is young. She mentioned it to your mother, as she cried in her lap. She doesn’t understand why you don’t love her as she does you.”

  “I can’t! I told you as much when you forced this on me.”

  Urdan’s eyes narrowed. “You can and you will. The circumstances are dire, and you’ll do what’s needed for this family and for Yarah. I don’t care if you need to close your eyes the entire night and imagine Lady Sahma. You’ll share a bed with Gwendolyn and love her like none other you’ve known.”

  He glared at his father, retaking his seat. “Is this what you did when you married Mother?” Jarin asked, coldly.

  “I did what was necessary to please my wife. I love your mother because I allowed myself to see the beauty within her. You must do the same. Gwendolyn loves you, Jarin. I understand that you love Sahma, but is it not fair to reserve some love for your wife?”

  Jarin’s gaze lowered, finding some truth in his father’s words. Gwendolyn was innocent in all this. Their fathers arranged this bond. It’s possible that she’d had a love in Nazil, and then was forced to marry him. Never had he thought about it in that manner.

  “The fault doesn’t lie with Gwendolyn,” Jarin said. “She’s been a good wife, and I know that she cares for me. I don’t despise her, Father. I find her quite pleasant and charming.”

  “Then allow her to feel what you speak. Saying a thing isn’t nearly as powerful as showing it. She must feel your love and desire. Is it such a difficult thing to make love to a beautiful woman?”

  Jarin smiled, wistfully. Gwendolyn had learned to please him. It was difficult in the beginning, but she’d grown used to their lovemaking, and now desired it often.

  The times he did venture to her chambers, he didn’t leave dissatisfied. Gwendolyn ensured his pleasure even above hers. His selfishness surprised him at that moment. It was not only placing the babe, but it was also the pleasure and closeness that came before. That, he’d never offered his wife, always rushing through their time together. He didn’t know if ever she was satisfied when he left her, nor had he cared.

  The only time he knew he’d pleased her was during Sahma’s visit. That night, he saw her so clearly, and could still smell fragrant oils she used. It was as if Sahma was lying beneath him, moaning with his every motion. That made all the difference in his passion, and the enormity of his pleasure.

  “No. It isn’t,” he finally admitted.

  “Good, my son. I don’t mean to harp on such matters. Truly, what you do in your bedchamber is no business of mine. I only mention it to bring clarity to your mind. Both you and Lady Sahma are married. Enjoy the blessings before you,” Urdan said, raising his cup.

  He joined him in the toast, still unconvinced. Jarin had decided to show Gwendolyn more compassion, but he didn’t intend on sharing a bed with her or denying his love for Sahma.

  “Now, let us get to business, shall we?” Urdan said, sliding a parchment across the table. Jarin took up the sheet, reading it in full.

  “Do you think the Zaxson’s plan will work, Father?”

  “That’s my hope. No one has admitted to seeing Molag, and the expanded patrols haven’t been successful.”

  “Could Eithrig provide any information about where they held him?”

  “No,” Urdan answered, refilling his cup. “His face was covered when they abducted him, and he was unconscious when they threw him into the streets. Had we but one witness, it could make all the difference.”

  “I find it hard to believe that no one in the lowers saw anything. There are always beggars and doxies littering the streets.”

  “I agree, but they’re not being forthcoming. Mayhaps the gold will loosen their tongues.”

  “Yes, and a healthy sum. The Zaxson moves with purpose.”

  “He must. If what they’ve reported about Molag is true, he’s more dangerous now than ever before. I don’t doubt Lord Ahllendale’s accounting, either. He has a connection with their gods that’s somewhat off-putting, yet undeniable.”

  Jarin scoffed. “Off-putting? He’s a freak. Did you see that—that mark on his forehead and those triangular shaped eyes? By the gods, Father, they’re violet and glow!” His face scrunched in disgust. “Were these different times, he’d be tortured and hanged as a creature of darkness, not revered as some divinely inspired priest.”

  “Your harshness stems from jealousy over his wife, not his appearance. It’s past time that you held your tongue and respected all the members of the Zaxson’s council.”

  “I offer respect where it’s due. Ahvixx is the low-born son of a bastard—a bastard that was sentence to death by the former Zaxson himself. Just because Sir Benoist hands out titles like sweets doesn’t mean I must respect them.”

  “On the contrary, that’s exactly what that means,” Urdan said. “I wasn’t always Yarah’s Caretaker or resided in the citadel.”

  “But you’ve always been high-born and held a great position in the village.”

  “I was fortunate to have it so, Jarin. Ahvixx is a Lord as he should be. If you refuse to accept that truth, then you’ll have to accept that Sahma is no Lady.”

  “Sahma has always been a Lady. Her father was a High Lord in Noraa before leaving for Bandari, and has reclaimed that title.”

  “You speak true. However, her mother is Nazilian. Such marriages were illegal and not recognized at the time of Sahma’s birth. Therefore, following the logic you’ve assigned to Ahvixx, Sahma would also be a bastard.”

  “Why do you wish to anger me, Father? Must it always return to this?”

  “I’m not attempting to anger you. My hope is that you’ll realize the inconsistencies in your own observations. You mustn’t forget that Ahvixx is also Allister d’Garrion’s nephew.”

  “How could I when you remind me continuously.”

  “Well, enough of this,” Urdan said, standing. “Our wives are waiting, and I must speak with the Cha Asham, and arrange the announcement regarding this reward,” he said, clapping Jarin on the shoulder. “Come, my son. Gwendolyn awaits.”

  Rhoyden

  “Don’t be deceived, Joseph. Do you truly believe the Zaxson will allow you to retain your position?”

  “Why wouldn’t he? I’ve done well for our village, and he’s commented on the same. If not for my family and me, Rhoyden wouldn’t be thriving as it is. The inn was completed ahead of schedule and the citadel will be as well.”

  “Indeed.” The man smirked, adjusting his balaclava. “But he doesn’t trust you, Joseph. Pentanimir Benoist
has no qualms using you to restore the village. However, once you’ve succeeded, he’ll select someone else to oversee it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s another savage or abomination. You’ll see.”

  Joseph eyed the hooded man, suspiciously. “Why should I trust what you say?” he asked, taking a step back.

  He clasped his hands behind his back, beginning to pace. “Doesn’t our new Zaxson send his brothers and now these Jasiri to Rhoyden often? Ofttimes, they don’t even enter the village, they just spy on you from a distance. If he so trusted you and your capabilities, would such subterfuge be necessary?”

  Joseph stared at the man, considering what he’d said. It wasn’t the first time that he’d visited the citadel, and given the influx of undesirables, he feared that it wouldn’t be the last.

  Although Joseph had made some inquiries, few people truly knew who he was. It was certain after speaking to Imryl that he and those of his ilk were dangerous. Most gave them a wide berth, but those less fortunate died at the end of a sword.

  The man appeared to be from nowhere and everywhere all at once: emerging like a shadow and then dissipating just the same. The fact that he always kept his features masked only served to intensify Joseph’s fear. He couldn’t help but wonder if this man was an accomplice, some sellsword in league with Molag Bomgaard.

  “Why are you so concerned?” Joseph asked, finally. “What happens to me is of no consequence to you.”

  “Why?” The man’s broad smile couldn’t be seen through his balaclava and cowl, but the amusement in his tone was unmistakable. “You should be grateful to have such a friend to warn you. I’m taking a great risk coming to you at all. However, for the good of Faélondul, I’m willing to do so.”

  “How do I know that you won’t report me to the Zaxson? Mayhaps this is a ploy, a test of my allegiance.”

  “Never would I mislead you, my friend,” he said, opening his arms wide. “Everything I’ve told you previously has happened. You need me, Joseph, and more than you know.”

  “Are you here to cause division? We’re only just rebuilding what’s been lost. My family was scattered throughout Faélondul due to the war. Now, we have a place, a new start and a better life. I have no desire to be thrown in a cell or feel the headsman’s ax. I’m interested in taking care of my family and help this village grow and become productive.”