THE SHADOWLORD

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Aluino grabbed the medicine bottle from the table and a nearby crystal tumbler of water. Uncorking the bottle, he poured a liberal amount of the cherry-colored liquid into the glass, then opened the drawer of the night table and withdrew a small dried reed. He stuck the reed into the liquid, swirled it, then extended the tumbler toward Aradia. "Give him this."

  Aradia took the glass. "Are you sure it's safe for him?"

  "It's all right," Jaelan whispered.

  She held the hollow reed to her husband's lips. He sucked in the liquid. His grimace left no doubt the brew tasted as unpalatable as it appeared. When he consumed the potion, he settled down and closed his eyes.

  "He'll sleep for a few hours," Aluino said, taking the empty glass from Aradia. "Should you need us, Kaffie and I will be down the corridor in the receiving room."

  "Where's Tarsis?" Jaelan asked, his words slurring.

  "He's sleeping, Jael," Aluino replied. "He was up all night with you."

  "Um..." Jaelan lifted his left arm. "Come here, wench."

  Aradia warily moved closer to her husband, fearful of causing him discomfort. Ducking under his arm, she settled as closely to him as she thought advisable. Apparently he thought it not close enough, for he hooked his hand around her waist and drew her to him, enclosing her in a tight embrace.

  "You'll hurt yourself!" she warned.

  "Don't feel...a damned thing..." He rested his forehead against hers. "Now...I can sleep."

  With that, he was lost to the world.

  * * * *

  By the time Aradia stirred again, night had fallen. When her eyelids fluttered open, she found herself on her side, looking into her husband's still face. She exhaled softly, concerned she would wake him. His arm was still draped over her, and the heat from his touch alarmed her. From what little she could see of his back, the flesh looked bright red, oozing, giving off a stench almost as bad as a decomposing body.

  "It burns," he said without opening his eyes.

  "What can I do?" she asked, touching his sweaty arm.

  "I wish I were in Virago, standing naked in the snow."

  "You've been to Virago?"

  "Once, a long time ago." He opened his eyes. "Wish I were there again."

  "Would lying in a tub of cold water help?"

  He frowned. "Tarsis took me to the baths, but that warm water hurt like hell."

  "I imagine, but don't you think cold water would soothe?"

  "Wouldn't hurt any more than it already does."

  Gently, she removed his arm from around her and got out of bed. "I'll send Kafele for cool water from the fortress' spring."

  "No, aziza. Too much trouble. I can walk to the lower level. There's a room in the dungeon where cold water--"

  "The hell you will!" Not giving him a chance to protest, she left the room, her jaw and fists clenched.

  "Aradia!" he bellowed.

  She came to an abrupt stop, then turned, stunned to see him limping toward her. Her eyes dropped to the cloth wrapped around his hips, relieved to see he'd covered his privates. When she opened her mouth to order him back to bed, Jaelan shushed her with a stern look. He took her hand and started toward the door.

  "You are anide," she told him.

  "It's easier going down the stairs than up. Humor me."

  Refusing to comment on the obvious untruth, she walked beside him, her hand aching from his pressure. The few people they passed bowed respectfully to him, then turned away, their faces showing their embarrassment.

  "Rysalian warriors don't parade around in their izars," he explained, then clarified. "Loincloths."

  "Are you going to get into further trouble because you're doing it?"

  "Doubtful. The Tribunal will send a letter of protest which the king will read, laugh over, then tear up."

  A malevolent aura weighed heavily on Aradia's shoulders when they reach the dismal and dark lower level of Abbadon. The foreboding place made her skin crawl as though infested with vermin. The deeper they went into the bowels of the fortress, the more unsettled she became.

  "This is an evil place, warrior," she whispered.

  "Demons reign here."

  He led her to a room cast in deep shadows. Burning rushes did nothing to alleviate the despair saturating the atmosphere. A brisk draft shifted arond the black stone walls. In the center of the floor, a square opening filled with water looked as black as the walls.

  "What do they do here?" Aradia asked.

  "Torture people."

  She looked into the dark water. "How?"

  "The water is ice-cold, aziza." He pointed to a vat. "Over there is a cauldron where they heat water to boiling. Up there is the means for moving a victim between one place of torment to another."

  Aradia saw a system of pulleys and a sling into which she could imagine some unlucky man would be strapped before being lowered into the extreme temperatures. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

  Jaelan eased himself down at the side of the pool, drawing in a shocked breath as his toes disappeared in the water. "By the Prophet, but this water has nothing on the lakes of Virago."

  Before Aradia could ask why he had traveled to that frigid North Country, her husband slid into the water, sucking in a breath loud enough to echo through the room.

  She squatted at the edge and put her fingers in the water. Her eyes widened. "How can you stand that?"

  "It's not so bad once you get used to it," he said, though his teeth chattered as he went lower. His soft "ahh" said the water had doused the fire in his back. Seating himself on the middle step, the water covered his shoulders.

  "How deep is it?" she asked.

  "Eight feet, maybe." He frowned when she stood. "Where are you going, Lady?"

  "No where." She slid out of her pantaloons, then stepped into the water. As the water lapped up her calves, she gasped, making him chuckle. "Beast."

  "That I am," he replied with a leer.

  She sat beside him, their knees touching. "You're right. It's not so bad. Is it helping you?"

  He looked down at her muslin tunic, now soaked through. The dark aureoles of her breasts appeared behind the clinging fabric. The shape and size of her breasts seemed to mesmerized him.

  "Warrior?"

  Slowly, his gaze lifted to hers. "You are beautiful."

  She shrugged.

  Jaelan swallowed, then lifted his hand to touch her cheek. "I had wanted our first night here to be special." He caressed her. "A man does not want to bring his bride to a hellhole such as this, then leave her wondering if he'll return."

  "I understood, Milord."

  "I know you did, but it doesn't erase the memories you'll have of it." His face took on the look of a man who knew helplessness. "I had wanted to lie with you in our own bed. To have you get to know me. To make love to you. To--"

  "There will be time for all that, beloved."

  Aradia eased off the step and knelt between his spread legs, the water gently lapping around them. She cupped his face in her hands, then brought his lips to hers. Her mouth moved over his, her tongue slipping between his lips to plunder. When she drew back, she saw passion had turned his amber eyes a rich, tawny brown.

  His hands clasped her shoulders as they stared at one another. The look of need on his handsome face made her smile. She slid her palms down his heavily muscled chest to the tops of his thighs. His muscles tensed. As she arched her questing hands down the insides of those taut thighs, she heard him draw a shuddery breath. When her fingers snaked toward his groin, the nails sliding under the izars to lightly touch his scrotum, he jerked her to him, his mouth brutally slanting down to cover hers.

  Aradia felt the white-hot stab of arousal quiver in her belly as he kissed her. With her arms trapped between them, her fingertips pressed along the ridges of his heavy sac, she realized he trembled. Pulling away from his insistent mouth, ignoring his grunt of frustration, she slid her hands beneath the leg openings of the izars. What filled her palm made her grin wicke
dly.

  "My Heh-Matsimela," she whispered huskily.

  Jaelan stared at her, his face turning as red as the wounds on his back. "Where did you hear...?"

  He got no further, for she boldly caressed him, running the tips of her nails over the head of his throbbing shaft.

  Jaelan was as hard as he could ever remember being. Not even as a young boy striding unsure and untried into manhood had he known such a strong erection, such a burgeoning desire.

  "You don't need this," she said.

  Before he could stop her, she unwound and peeled apart the two sides of the izars, exposing him to her conquering hands.

  Her touch was as gentle as a butterfly's wings, yet as firm as a swordsman's grip. She encircled his turgid flesh, alternating hands as she pulled his flesh. She gingerly twisted, moving her hand upward, then her fingers traveled from the swollen head to the base of his member. Her palm circled the tip of him, then a delicate fingernail teased the oozing slit.

  "Aradia," he breathed, panting from the emotions ripping through him. He closed his eyes, giving himself up to the pleasure he had heard other men describe but had never known in his resentful couplings with Saahira. "I can't...I'm not..."

  "Shush..."

  Jaelan's eyelids flew open when he felt her teeth graze the sensitive underside of his crown. Her long brown hair floated on the water's surface when she dunked her head beneath the waves. Her mouth engulfed him, sucking, her tongue swirling. Her hands kneaded his balls, the nails dragging beneath his stem.

  He moaned, burying his hands in her hair.

  One moment he was straining for the release he knew would be the closest he'd ever come to heaven, and the next he was throwing back his head, yowling with a climax that shook him to the core.

  Limp, his breath ragged, he became barely aware of Aradia rising from the water. She raked hands through her hair pressed tightly to her scalp. His attention locked on her breasts, the swollen nipples pressed against the wet fabric. He could no more have stopped himself from capturing those firm mounds than he could deny the sun its rising at dawn. In bliss, he molded her, sawed his thumbs across the nipples, then plucked at the turgid flesh.

  "Beautiful," he whispered. "So..."

  A boot scraping against the flooring separated the husband and wife as though they were randy teenagers caught by an incensed parent. Both turned guilty eyes to the doorway.

  "Is he hurting you?" Tarsis asked Aradia, his lips twitching beneath the shaggy beard.

  "Not so much as before," she answered.

  "You saw to his discomfort, did you?"

  "I believe I had everything well in hand, aye."

  "And I bet those hands were full," the warrior teased. "Did he acquit himself reasonably well?"

  "Tarsis," Jaelan said in warning.

  Aradia smiled. "I must report, Milord Jaelan rose staunchly to the occasion."

  "Stop it," Jaelan snapped. "The both of you."

  "Are we embarrassing you, brat?" Tarsis gave Aradia an innocent look. "He can be such a little squirt, you know?"

  "I wouldn't say that, Milord. He filled my..."

  "Stop!" Jaelan shouted. "Not another word out of either of you!"

  "I didn't hear you, brat," Tarsis said, slapping at his one ear. "Come again?"

  "Get the hell out of here, Tarsis!"

  The warrior tsked, shook his head, then threw up his hands. "You don't have to drill home the point, boy. I heard you the first time."

  Aradia started to counter the old warrior's barb, but Jaelan's glower made her snap her mouth shut. She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.

  "It was nice meeting you, Your Grace," Tarsis said, bowing to Aradia. "I'm relieved to know you care for this young jackass."

  "Not as relieved as he is," she muttered.

  Tarsis' laughter boomed from his barrel chest. He held out a hand in farewell.

  "Send two robes back by Kaffie," Jaelan ordered.

  Tarsis didn't turn, but acknowledged the order with a nod.

  "I think he and I are going to be good friends," Aradia commented.

  "Wench." Jaelan speared her with an angry look.

  Aradia wiped the grin from her face. She wondered if she'd gone too far with the old warrior and caused her husband embarrassment. "Milord?"

  "Stand up."

  Her brows drawn together, Aradia got to her feet.

  "Did he teach you that?" Jaelan demanded.

  "Who?" she asked, then realized whom he meant. "No."

  "Who did?"

  "Women talk, warrior. Just as men do."

  "No woman taught you how to use your mouth to such advantage."

  His stony stare annoyed her. "Why are you asking me this? You possess me as no man ever has or ever will, yet you don't trust me?"

  "I have yet to do any possessing, except in my dreams."

  "Yet you do not trust me."

  "I did not say that."

  She put her hands on her hips. "What does that red-haired witch do for you?"

  Jaelan waved a dismissive hand. "That is neither here nor--"

  "Answer me!" she demanded in a tone that caused him to raise his eyebrows.

  For a long moment, he simply stared at her, then shrugged indifferently. "She would come into my quarters with an expression that said she was about to be made to drink a bitter brew. She'd take off her clothes, lie on the bed, and part her legs. She stared at the ceiling, her arms straight at her side."

  "What did you do?"

  "Free my cock, climb atop her, and get rid of the tension."

  Aradia blinked. "That's it? That's all she did?"

  "As for as I know, that's all she's capable of doing, at least with me. I didn't care enough to read her thoughts, but it didn't take the abilities of a Shadowlord to know she was enduring it only because she'd been ordered to do so."

  "There was no kissing, no--"

  "I'd rather put my lips on the ass of a Diabolusian warthog than kiss that venomous bitch."

  "You didn't caress her?"

  "I had no desire for her, wench. She was a means to an end and that was all. Mating with her was no different than squirting my seed into the chamber pot."

  Aradia's blush amused him. He reached out for her, drawing her between his legs. "On the other hand," he said, moving his hands up and down her arms, "I'll take great delight in making love to you."

  "When you're able."

  He slid his hands to her hips and bunched the wet tunic up her legs in slow increments.

  "What are you about, warrior?"

  "Turnabout is fair play."

  "W...what do you mean?"

  His hands gently kneaded her bare thighs. When she repeated her question in a whisper, he shushed her and moved one hand behind her, cupping her right buttock. The other hand he slid between her legs.

  She sighed as he rubbed her, the heat of his palm against her nether lips an exquisite torment.

  "You are wet, Milady," he cooed.

  She gasped as his middle finger slid possessively inside her.

  Her groan caused Jaelan to harden. He thrust his finger deeper inside Aradia's slick warmth and watched as she closed her eyes, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

  With infinite care and steady deliberation, he thumbed the hardened pearl nestled in the wiry curls of her vagina. Alternately drawing his middle finger from her womanhood and circling the fleshy triangle that brought panting to accompany her whimpers of pleasure, then pressing into her once more, he felt the tension building within her. She gripped his hair and pulled his mouth to her chest. Through the wet fabric, he found one turgid nipple and claimed it with his teeth.

  The muscles of her vagina began to spasm, quickening around his questing finger like a moth fluttering at the globe of a candelabra. Jaelan folded his bride to him, her hands on his naked chest, and lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was all either of them knew until he drew back, his eyes searching hers.

  "I love you," she said, touching h
is cheek.

  He smiled, then eased her away so he could stand. Though his back no longer burned, he felt the lash marks and longed for sleep. He took her hand in his and led her out of the water, asking her to retrieve the robes he saw lying in the doorway. Kaffie must have brought them during their lovemaking.

  "Is the pain better, Milord?" Aradia asked.

  "Aye," he answered, amused that she seemed to be studiously avoiding looking at his naked body.

  She helped him into his robe. "Perhaps you will sleep easier."

  He nodded. "With you beside me, I can."

  They walked hand in hand back to his quarters, and when the Shadowlord closed the door, two Death Lords moved out of the darkness to stand guard.

  * * * *

  As Jaelan and his lady slept, his enemies plotted.

  Jahannum sent for his brother, and Gehenna, in turn, sent for the Amazeen princess, careful the summons did not reach the King's ear.

  Orithia brought her new accomplice, Saahira, to the meeting.

  Chapter 3

  * * *

  "It was Gehenna's doing," Jaelan explained the next morning as he lay on his belly, his head turned toward his bride. "He didn't intend for me to come back from Diabolusia...at least not alive."

  Aradia had wanted to know how the warrior had wound up a slave in the mines at Amberino. "He had you sent there?"

  "He had me abducted from Tempest Keep in Virago."

  "What were you doing there?"

  "I'd gone to protect my King. Hasani was to sign a trade agreement with the Hesar clan, but when I came up missing, he blamed the Viragonians and went home under heavy guard. The pact was never signed."

  "Why would he blame the Viragonians?"

  "There'd been some discussion about allowing me to accompany the King. They didn't mind him bringing a personal guard, but the Hesars are a strange bunch...they allow no magic-sayers at the Court of the Storms. Hasani insisted and they grudgingly allowed me to come with him. But I was told I couldn't venture inside the Court. That didn't bother me, because it was snowing when we arrived, and I'd never seen snow. It fascinated me. I spent most of the day walking around, catching flakes on my tongue."