THE SHADOWLORD

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "Behave," he warned in a forceful whisper.

  "I'm better when I'm bad, warrior," she cooed sweetly, her unspoken words bringing a faint blush to his dark complexion.

  "I'll hold you to that, wench," he mumbled.

  "Hold me to what part of you, warrior?" She batted her eyes when he gave her a sidelong warning glance.

  The double steel doors slammed shut without so much as a squeal of protest, making Aradia jump. She spun around.

  "Thirty-six men to open them, and only one man to shut them," Aluino said.

  The triple portcullis rose with a slight screech, and a black-uniformed soldier marched up to Jaelan and smartly saluted him. "The King has requested your presence immediately upon your return, Lord Jaelan."

  Jaelan and Aluino exchanged glances, then Jaelan drew in a long breath. "Tell His Highness I am on my way, Sadaam." He nodded as the man saluted again, then hurried to do the Shadowlord's bidding.

  "Do you want me to take the Lady Aradia to her quarters, Lord Jaelan?" Aluino asked, smiling when Aradia gave him a droll look.

  "I imagine the Lady would like to freshen up before she breaks her fast. Would you escort her to the seraglio?"

  Intense fear shot through Aradia. She turned stricken eyes to her husband, her hand tightening painfully on his arm.

  "Trust me, Milady," he told her.

  "But..." Aradia began, her face as white as parchment.

  Jaelan put a finger to her lips to shush her. "Take good care of my wife, Vasquez. I'll come to take her to our quarters when the King has finished with me."

  Aradia heard the stifled gasps of men who had overheard. She felt eyes crawling over her, assessing her, and the sensation felt most unpleasant.

  "Each man here would give his life unflinchingly for you, Milady," Jaelan said, looking around. "Is that not true, Adeben?"

  The tallest of the inner guards snapped to attention. "It is as you say, Lord Jaelan!"

  Aluino grinned. "It would be my honor to escort your Lady-Wife, Lord Jaelan." He proffered his arm to Aradia.

  "Go with Lieutenant Vasquez, Milady," Jaelan told her. "He will make sure you're where you should be when I come to fetch you."

  Casting her husband a worried look, Aradia allowed him to transfer her hand from his arm to Aluino's. Her heart raced as Jaelan strode away.

  "Are we to assume congratulations are in order, Lieutenant?" Adeben inquired.

  Aluino shrugged. "His Lordship is quite content with his new status, so I believe congratulations would not be amiss."

  Adeben saluted, his fist to his chest, then stepped back, lowering his head as Aluino led Aradia into the inner bailey.

  "Quite content?" Aradia asked beneath her breath.

  "I didn't want to say he was horny as a schoolboy. But if you prefer I go back and clarify...?"

  "Must I go to the seraglio?"

  "Jael knows what he's about, wench. Don't start questioning him and you may last longer than his last wife."

  Aradia stopped dead in her tracks. She jerked her arm from Aluino's grasp. "What wife?" she demanded in a shrill voice.

  "Did he forget to tell you he was married before?" Aluino asked innocently.

  "What wife?"

  Aluino laughed. "I believe you're jealous."

  She shoved the Diabolusian as hard as she could, then watched with satisfaction as he stumbled, fell, and slammed onto his backside on the slick stone floor.

  "What is her name?" she shrieked, drawing back her foot to kick him.

  Despite the obvious pain to his tailbone, Aluino seemed to be enjoying himself.

  Aradia landed a vicious kick to the prone man's foot. "Tell me!"

  "I was joking, wench!" Aluino chuckled, scrambling to his feet before she could kick him again. "There has never been another wife."

  "Then why lie about it, you greasy spurt?"

  Aluino winced at the insult, but hitched one shoulder. "I had to know how you felt about Jael."

  "And just how is it any of your business how I feel?"

  "It was no secret that you loved Prince Viento."

  The angry flush drained from Aradia's face.

  "As much as the people of Diabolusia hated you, they could not fault you for your feelings."

  "I don't want to discuss this," she said, looking around for an escape from the conversation.

  "Everyone in the country knew how he felt about you. I would not like Jaelan to feel as you felt when Prince--"

  "Do not say his name to me!" Aradia shouted, covering her ears with her hands. "Never again!"

  The humor gone from his face. Aluino pulled down her hands and shook her. "I do not want my friend hurt. He's been hurt more than any man I've ever known, and I'll not allow you to break his heart. Do you understand, wench?"

  Tears fell down Aradia's cheeks. The very mention of the Diabolusian prince's name still had the power to wound her. Her chin trembling, she held Aluino's sharp gaze and nodded.

  "Hurt that man at your peril," Aluino growled.

  "I'd never wish anyone to know the pain I've felt," she whispered, stumbling back as Aluino released her.

  "You will not hurt him?"

  "No."

  "Swear it by your goddess. Swear by Alluvial."

  She hung her head. "I swear it," she said, her voice trembling.

  "I realize it is too much to ask to make him happy, but try not to annoy him."

  Aradia lifted her chin. She searched his eyes, then shook her head. "You think him incapable of having a woman love him, don't you?"

  "I have no illusions where women and Jaelan Ben-Ashaman are concerned. You've not seen the Shadowlord within him. When you do, you'll be wise to remember you promised never to hurt him!"

  "I saw him in the desert with the Tribunal Guard, he--"

  The Diabolusian snorted. "He was playing with Sekhem Neter, wench. What you saw wasn't one-tenth of the true power he can wield." He narrowed his eyes. "Best you never see him when he's truly enraged."

  Aradia crossed her arms and rubbed the gooseflesh that pebbled on her flesh.

  "Come." Aluino reached for her. but she stepped back.

  "Stop manhandling me."

  "Jael must be getting senile in his advancing years," Aluino mumbled and started down the corridor. "You're going to be more trouble than you'll ever be worth."

  Aradia stuck out her tongue at his back. Had she a sword, she thought, she would have cleft him in twain. The thought brought a vicious grin.

  When he turned to make sure she followed, he quirked a thick brow. "What evil are you brewing, witch?"

  Her wicked smile broadened. "I was imagining how you'd look bobbing in a bubbling cauldron of pig shit, greaser."

  Aluino grunted and turned, but not before he could hide his own nasty smirk.

  Two tall Nubians guarded the door into the seraglio. Their black skin gleamed in the glow of the torchlight that adorned each side of the golden portal. Crimson vests hung open on thickly muscled chests and marked their rank as members of the household guard. Sheathed at the dark men's waists were scimitars, the blades of which curled against white cotton pantaloons.

  "This is the Lady Aradia," Aluino said as the guards came to attention, swords drawn to prevent entry into the seraglio's inner sanctum. "She's the legal mate of the Shadowlord and is to be treated accordingly."

  One man stepped aside while the other sheathed his sword and opened the door. Neither had reacted to the Diabolusian's words, but when Aluino motioned Aradia to enter, both guards respectfully bowed their heads.

  "Lord Jaelan will come at his convenience for his lady," Aluino explained.

  Aradia paused in the doorway, her heart thudding. The Diabolusian's words unsettled her. She turned, giving him a pleading look.

  "Be at ease, wench. He'll not leave you here any longer than necessary."

  Aradia would have questioned that curious remark, but before she could, someone grabbed her arm and unceremoniously jerked her into the seraglio. Turning
to confront the person who had dared lay hands on her, she found herself gazing at a hairless chest with flesh as black as tar. She looked up, up higher, then higher still, until she stared into a scowling face tilted downward from a towering height.

  "She is Lord Jaelan's wife!" Aluino shouted before the door closed.

  Her mouth gaping like that of a country bumpkin making her first trip to the city, she swallowed hard to still the panic rising in her chest. She'd never seen so tall a man, nor one as muscled and overpowering. Her knees began knocking together, and sweat broke out on her upper lip. Her fingers grew numb from the firm grip of the man's fingers around her arm.

  "I am Sulaimon," the towering hunk of ebony flesh rumbled, his voice as intimidating as his physical presence.

  Aradia issued a croak of fear that both angered her and brought home the precariousness of her position. With warriors such as this guarding the seraglio, it would be nigh impossible to escape, should the need arise.

  "You are Amazeen," the mountain thundered.

  She could do no more than nod. When the immense warrior's grip on her arm lessened, she thought she saw a sparkle of laughter in his midnight orbs.

  "The Lady Orithia has been expecting you," he stated.

  "Orithia?" Aradia breathed, she looked around. "May I see her?"

  Sulaimon nodded. "I have been ordered to bring you to her." He released her arm. "Follow me."

  He led her through luxurious surroundings--rooms with gold leaf, brilliantly hued carpeting, intricate wood inlays, finely wrought iron screens, teakwood moldings, ornate furniture, silk hangings, and lush plants dangling from twenty-foot ceilings. Perfumed scents tickled her nose.

  "Tell me I did not hear Lord Aluino call you the Shadowlord's wife," Sulaimon intoned. He stopped and turned to glare down at her.

  Aradia lifted her chin. "I am Lord Jaelan Ben-Ashaman's legal wife."

  A fierce frown drew the man's brows together over a huge beak of a nose. A muscle ground in his chiseled cheek. "The Lady Orithia will find such news most distressing, Milady." He started walking again.

  "Why?" Aradia asked, her short legs pumping to keep up with the man's long stride.

  "She has vowed to see the Shadowlord in his grave," he responded. "And she has the ear of the King."

  Fear rippled through Aradia, but she refused to allow it to creep into her voice. "A King who can gain any number of beautiful women to replace my sister in his affections, but who will have a difficult time finding another Shadowlord to do his bidding? Is that the same King of whom we speak?"

  The dark man stopped again. Twisting his head toward her, he flashed her a smile that showed a mouthful of thick, startling white teeth, made all the more brilliant in contrast to his stygian flesh. "This should be interesting," he said, then resumed his walk.

  The door that led into Orithia's quarters drew Aradia's notice. The scene molded in pure gold brought a blush to her cheeks.

  "The work of a gifted artisan," Sulaimon explained, seeing her reaction.

  Aradia shook her head. "The work of a perverted artist." She turned her eyes from the naked women emblazoned on the door, as they cavorted with one another in obscene positions. The scene made her nauseous.

  From Sulaimon's wide chest, laughter rumbled, no less ferocious than thunder echoing down a mountain. His smile seemed genuine, the laughter bringing tears to his huge eyes. He swiped at the moisture with a beefy paw. "Such was the Lady Orithia's pronouncement upon first seeing the door."

  Aradia's mouth twisted with disgust. "Such scenes are crafted by men for other men. I would imagine that kind of thing isn't allowed even here."

  "You are correct, Milady. The only release the women of the seraglio know comes from their masters." He arched a thick brow. "To that end, certain things are not allowed within the walls of the seraglio."

  "Such as?"

  "Carrots, cucumbers, stalks of celery, ears of corn," Sulaimon said with a grin. At Aradia's scarlet blush, he laughed again and opened the door.

  "Who are you?" a shrill voice demanded.

  "Ah," Sulaimon sighed, "I had forgotten you were visiting the Lady Orithia, Saahira."

  "Who's this scrawny excuse for a female, Sulaimon?" the woman demanded.

  "Who the hell are you?" Aradia snapped, eyeing the red-haired beauty, standing arms akimbo and tapping a delicate bare foot before her.

  "Aradia!" Orithia squealed. She ran to her sister, grabbed her in a fierce hug, and swung her around and around. "You have no idea how happy I am to see you!"

  When Orithia released her, Aradia stared in shock. The flimsy silk pantaloons barely hid the shadowed V of Orithia's pelvic hair. The overly small vest of embroidered suede, held together by a slender golden chain, exposed most of Orithia's bosom. A gauzy veil attached to a jewel-studded circlet adorned her hair.

  "Where are your clothes, Sister?" Aradia asked.

  "I knew someone would come after me, but I did not dare to think it would be you," Orithia said as though she had not heard the question. "Who else came with you?"

  Saahira snorted. "As though she'll be able to help you. I told you not even a battalion of your women warriors could free you from this prison."

  "I suppose you know everything," Aradia grated.

  Saahira raised her chin. "I am the concubine of the Shadowlord. I know all!"

  Aradia's eyes widened.

  The redhead smiled nastily. "So you understand the power I wield at Abbadon? I suggest you speak to me in respectful tones."

  Orithia led Aradia to a low settee piled high with silk pillows. "Saahira has been a comfort to me. She's agreed to help me exact my revenge on the man who's responsible for my imprisonment."

  "What man would that be?" Aradia asked, sitting beside her.

  "Jaelan Ben-Ashaman," Orithia said with a sneer. "Saahira hates him almost as much as I."

  "More so, Pale One," Saahira stated. "You're not required to pleasure the vile beast."

  "Thanks be to Alluvial." Orithia took Aradia's hands in hers. "How did you get here? Who captured you?"

  Aradia blinked. "Is that the only way you imagine I'd come to your rescue? By being captured?"

  Saahira chuckled. "You certainly didn't walk into Abbadon on your own. A man brought you, whore, else you would not be here."

  Before Aradia could leap to her feet, Orithia tightened the grip on her hands. "Be careful what you say to my kinswoman, Saahira. I will tolerate only so much of your insubordination. I'll soon be Queen, and where will you be then? You do not want to make an enemy of me."

  Saahira shrugged. "You are not Queen yet, Pale One. Do not count your ducklings before they're hatched."

  "Send her away before I tear out that ugly red hair," Aradia said beneath her breath.

  Orithia giggled. "Will you excuse us, Saahira? I have much to say to my sister."

  The woman's face turned hard, but she made no comment. Instead, she sauntered to the door, flipping her long hair over her shoulder. She glanced back, giving Aradia a hateful look, then left.

  "She's nothing more than a prostitute, but the information she gives me is invaluable," Orithia said.

  "I'd question just how valuable. That one is not your friend, Sister."

  "I know she isn't. She hates me as much as I hate her. But we have a common enemy and are working toward ridding ourselves of him."

  Aradia frowned. "Lord Jaelan."

  "I'll see him in hell for his part in my captivity. I--"

  "He brought me here."

  Orithia gaped. "Oh, Aradia, no!" She palmed Aradia's cheek. "I'm so sorry! How did that evil son of a--"

  "He's my husband."

  "What?" Orithia breathed, color draining from her face. She trembled violently, her fingers fluttering at her mouth.

  "I agreed to Join with him if he'd free you from this place. He said it was in his power to do so." Aradia's shoulders drooped. "But that was before you agreed to become King Hasani's wife. Now, there's nothing the warrior can do and w
e'll both be here the rest of our lives."

  Orithia shook her head over and over. "No, this can't be."

  "We were legally Joined by a magistrate in Uadjit, the town in which Jaelan grew up. Even now, he is at audience with the King, no doubt telling him of our Joining."

  The stunned look on Orithia's face slowly metamorphosed into one of anger. When she closed her mouth, her lips pressed into a thin line and her jaw became tight. Her eyes narrowed into slits, and she slumped against the cushions.

  "He's not the monster you believe him to be," Aradia said.

  "Did he rape you?"

  "Of course not."

  "Have you mated with that infernal demon?" Orithia snapped.

  "We have not had our Joining night, no."

  "Then the Joining has not been consummated. I'll have Hasani annul this misbegotten travesty."

  "I don't want that."

  "Why?"

  "I want him."

  "Whatever for?"

  "Because he wants me and we--"

  Orithia gasped. "He wants you?"

  "His was the life I saved in Diabolusia. Remember me telling you?" At Orithia's nod, Aradia gave a small shrug. "He was grateful for what I did, and though he has not said as much, I believe he may bear me a measure of affection."

  "Affection," Orithia repeated, eyes wide.

  "Perhaps even love."

  Orithia burst out laughing. "Oh, this is wonderful!" She got up from the cushions and whirled around, her palms rising to the heavens. "This is better than what Saahira wanted to do to him!"

  A heavy frown pulled at Aradia's face. "What do you mean?"

  Shrieking with delight, Orithia danced across the room, then clapped her hands. "The stag has finally been brought to ground and by a hand he will not stop when it places the dagger to his worthless throat!"

  The words settled like poisonous darts in Aradia's brain. "No, Sister. You don't understand."

  "Thanks be to Alluvial for Her answer to my prayers! I'll have my revenge on the feared Shadowlord of Abbadon. You'll be his downfall, Ardy! You'll be the one to give me Jaelan Ben-Ashaman's head on a silver platter!"

  Chapter 11