Blood Winter: Immortalibus Bella 3

by SL Figuhr

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  The marquis’ mansion blazed with light, a bright beacon on an otherwise poorly lit street. Conveyances pulled up to the front, disgorging their heavily cloaked occupants.

  Susafan fretted back at my mansion, worried I was being led into a compromising situation because of how the request to come dressed was worded. What she didn’t know was I had a plan in place to mitigate such attention.

  Slaves in uniform admitted me into the lamplight-filled entrance hall and took my cloak before escorting me to the receiving room. I could hear the sounds of conversation from down the hall.

  The room to which I was shown only contained two women, one of whom was Anne. The young woman had her arms tightly wrapped around her upper body. The person she sat chatting with did not stir as the marchioness excused herself and came over to greet me. She had a filmy, white lace shawl draped over her shoulders which she fiddled with, trying to get it to adequately cover her. The rest of Anne's outfit consisted of a thin, round collared, maroon silk dress which ended barely past her butt. Garters held up silk stockings the same color, and she wore a pair of gold silk slippers. I saw her eyes widen as she took in my outfit.

  “Thank you for joining us.” Her cold hands wrapped around mine.

  I could hear her rapid heartbeat, and her trembling grip upon me was tight. Her makeup was expertly applied, but was not a look she normally would choose for herself. You should not have come. My husband means to ruin you.

  “It is my pleasure,” I answered her.

  She tugged gently on my arm, leading me toward the other woman. I came face to face with Lady Caroline. She wore even less than Anne. Her outfit consisted of a long strip of ice-blue silk that ran down the middle of her body. It barely covered her crotch. Another strip, only crosswise, just covered her nipples. The silk had been drawn tight, to help it stay in place, so the outlines of what it attempted to hide could easily be seen. She wore a pair of high-heeled shoes the same color, chased with silver. Her hair was in an elaborate style fit for court, with diamonds and pearls woven through.

  She blinked in surprise, then her eyes narrowed in suspicion and mouth firmed in anger before she blurted, “What are you here for?”

  “I might ask you the same question. I was unaware your parents had loosened the strictures they’d placed upon you. Country life can be a bit dull in winter time, can it not?” I asked.

  “If it were not for you, I would not be banished. How dare you allude to your liaison with my father, tossing it in my face. You whore! You will pay for what you have done to me! I’ll make sure he learns you were here.”

  I tilted my head to one side. “I am unaware of having a personal hand in your disgrace.”

  “Bitch! Deny all you want, but I know the truth.”

  Before she was able to continue further, a husky, weasel-eyed slave interrupted us.

  “Ladies, we are ready for your presence in the dining room.”

  I barely felt the tremor which passed through Anne’s body from where her arm brushed against mine.

  “Thank you, Victor.” The marchioness’ reply was low. Forgive me, duchess, for what will happen. The subsequent thought came to me clearly.

  Susafan would be part pleased, part furious, to know she was right with her warnings.

  The slave stayed close behind us as Anne led us into a different reception room. I deduced from the gathering of men and women they were waiting for our arrival. The females wore outfits, if the scraps of cloth could be called even that, meant to show off their bodies, and give ready access. Many of the men had elected to wear tights with their shoes, and little else. Both sexes gleamed with jewels, elaborate hair and makeup.

  “Bastard! I didn’t think he could get her to come,” one of the men murmured to the others while they thought we were still out of hearing.

  “How much did you bet?”

  “A hundred gold,” came the disgruntled reply.

  “A pretty price. But worth it if he can get her to stay.”

  “And participate.”

  “Freely?”

  “I shall bet fifty gold it will be the usual way.”

  “I will take that bet.”

  They chuckled and watched us walk toward them. I felt a slight, frantic tug on my arm as Anne escorted me across the room.

  I smiled broadly and inclined my head toward hers, as if sharing a bit of funny gossip.

  “Please, Duchess, drink lightly of the wine,” Anne squeaked out.

  “Yes, Duchess, we wouldn’t want anything horrible to happen to the king’s favorite whore from an excess of alcohol,” Caroline hissed as she pushed past us, showing the fabric turned into a thong in back which let her buttocks bob freely.

  “Victor!” The sharp command and gesture from the marquis caused his wife to whimper in fear before she cut the sound off. Jenabram scowled at Anne as we came up to him while the slave clamped a hand around the marchioness’ arm and forcefully dragged her over to a group of men who watched us.

  Caroline preened next to him, a self-satisfied smile curving up her mouth, as if it was she who bore the title of marchioness, and not Anne.

  “My Lord,” I greeted him, “thank you for inviting me. In the months since my arrival, I have heard much speculation over some of your parties.”

  His eyes greedily roamed my outfit, which was an artfully arranged collection of numerous black silk strings, meant to show my marble-white skin. I had not even bothered with shoes, instead going barefoot.

  Jenabram replied, “Have you now? Well then, it is good you took a chance and came. And even dressed the part.”

  “I would not want to disappoint,” I teased with a sly smile. The fool believed me. Personally, I was tired of getting blood on some of my dresses, and this gave a perfect excuse not to wear much of one.

  He leaned closer a tad, and breathed in the musky, spicy-scented oil I had applied. His next words flowed out with his exhalation. “If only both our wants were so easily appeased. I hope the wait will have been worth it.”

  When we are done with you, you will be begging me to keep this night quiet, and for the position of advisor, I will. His thoughts flowed easily.

  I kept the giggle of glee from slipping out. I wanted to tell him this night would indeed be memorable, but not for the reasons he was thinking. He would know soon enough.

  Jenabram straightened and called out, “Let the feast begin!”

  He gestured for Victor to lead the way. The dining room was brightly lit by a multitude of oil lamps, chandeliers, and fires blazing in the white-gold veined, carved fireplaces. The ice-blue, watered silk wallpaper stopped midway down the wall. Below it was wood paneling painted white. The chair cushions had been covered in a slightly darker blue, and the closed drapes a midnight blue velvet brocade tasseled in silver. The color scheme even extended to the extravagantly set table. Slaves of both sexes, wearing nothing but their iron collars, lined the walls. They stood straight, hands clasped before their genitals. From behind a folding screen painted with carnal scenes drifted a melody of string and wind instruments. I took an unneeded breath in, to scent the room. Anticipation, lust, some fear, and . . . ah, I had wondered if Kendall would. He had small incense burners creatively hidden about the room, which perfumed the air with the same drugs he had used for his masque.

  There was no formal assigned seating by rank which usually accompanied such events. Just an unspoken understanding everyone sit alternating men and women. The slaves made sure the drink flowed freely. Anne started out sipping at her goblet. As the night wore on, I noticed she began drinking as heavily, or more than, her husband.

  “I do not recall seeing you at any of Kendall’s special soirées since you moved here,” the man to my left said. “I am Mercer.”

  “This is the first I have attended,” I replied. “I am surprised, as rumor holds they are usually more . . . risqué.”

  He chuckled. “Our manner of dress is not enough for you?” His eyes darkened wit
h lust. “We must have strength before we begin, and some do not care to partake in the entertainment.”

  “Why is that?”

  A shrug was his answer. “They have no desire but to be a spectator.”

  Many hours flowed by as the humans feasted. Many of the men and women fed each other, or openly groped and fondled one another, the men I sat between never realizing I didn’t partake of the sustenance. With their minds already befuddled with wine and other substances they had ingested beforehand, it was no challenge to redirect their roaming hands to the women beside them. The noise level gradually rose, along with the amount of imbibing. So too did the groping and fondling, as more than one person shuddered every now and again from orgasms.

  I sat, pretending to sip from a goblet, eyes heavy-lidded as I let everyone’s thoughts wash over and through my mind. I added to the atmosphere with my power, sending out waves of heightened lust. They were almost ready for me. I knew my eyes glowed honey-gold fire. Kendall stood as a slave rang a gong. Heads turned, eyes bright from drink, voices falling silent.

  “We will commence to the postprandial, before beginning the night’s special entertainment,” Kendall boomed out, eyes glittering from excess of drink and repressed excitement. “Victor! The box if you please!”

  The weasel-eyed slave stirred from his place in the corner, where he had been silently observing us. He walked up the length of the long table, a small carved, dark wooden box with brass fittings carried between his gloved hands. The man was the only fully clothed person present. He stopped next to Anne, bowing in a way which made what he carried seem as if it were an offering.

  “Oh I couldn’t!” she protested. “The honor should go to one among us who is attending for the first time.” A shrill laugh of desperation slipped from her lips.

  “Anne, my love.” The jolly tone had dark undercurrents and the excitement in Jenabram’s eyes turned to a feral gleam. “It would not be fair to favor one above the many who may lay claim to that honor. Now choose.” He spat the last two words out.

  We all saw the violent shudder which accompanied her hiccup of fear. The marchioness’ hands visibly shook as she lifted the latch and then the lid. The slave moved the box higher so she could not look down into it and was forced to reach up. Her left hand rested on the lip of the open box as her right dipped inside and scrabbled about for several seconds. I heard wood clacking together, before she withdrew something clenched in her fist.

  She did not look at it, but pressed her spine firmly against the back of the chair. Her eyes closed as her jaw clenched and throat muscles rippled as she convulsively swallowed.

  The slave ignored his mistress, and turned to the man on her left, presenting the still open box in the previous method. Whoever he was, darted his hand inside and withdrew it in a manner suggesting he had been bitten by something venomous. He looked at what lay in his palm, and a snigger of delight escaped as the slave continued left.

  I observed the proceedings; some guests crowed, others laughed, a few made sounds of disappointment, but they all retained a frenzied eagerness. Soon it was my turn. I reached inside to feel cool, flat round objects. I plucked one from the diminished pile and following the lead of those before me, brought the disk below the level of the table.

  Keeping my lids half-lowered, I cast a quick glance toward Jenabram. He avidly stared at me, waiting for my reaction to what I held. In my cupped palm was a wooden disk, with an image branded into it. I flipped the disk over, to see a second, different brand.

  With a neutral face, I let my gaze dart to each guest before ending on the marquis’ face. His manic grin had taken on a certain stiffness, and the blue of his eyes had darkened a tad in anger.

  “Victor.” The slave’s name came out clipped, with none of the earlier bonhomie Jenabram had infused it with.

  None of the others seemed to pick up on the change except for his wife, whose hands had risen to clutch across her mouth as tears made tracks in the rice powder covering her face.

  Victor had since set the box aside, and now he walked to the elaborately carved, painted, and gilded double doors. He gave a stiff nod to the two slaves standing on either side. They opened the doors to reveal the hallway. During our supper, other slaves must have come and extinguished the bulk of the oil lamps which had previously filled it with light; for it now held wide pools of darkness.

  “If you will please step through into the hall, one by one.” Kendall gestured. “A slave shall escort each of you to a specially prepared room where you may enjoy your postprandial, and then the entertainment.”

  Titters and noises of anticipation greeted his words. I glanced around to see Lady Caroline lick her lips, avidly staring at the marquis.

  “Anne, my love, if you will lead.” His command held a thread of menace.

  I heard her heart speed up, and smelled the wave of fear which washed over her as she silently stood and made her way around the table and toward the opening. Her arms hung limply by her side, fists still clenched, mouth slack. I noted the rapid rise and fall of her bosom, the terror which glazed her eyes.

  The moment she stepped into the hall, a slave seemed to materialize from one side. His right hand closed about her left upper arm while his left carried a six-branched candelabra to illuminate their way. My dark-attuned eyes saw the slave yank Anne up and forward when she stumbled in a patch of deep shadow.

  “Please, honored guests, if you will.” Jenabram’s tone was back to light and inviting.

  Chairs scraped unevenly as their drunken occupants hurried to exit the room. I tried to listen in on the thoughts around me again, but received only impressions of lust and exuberance. Caroline sneered at me in passing as the room quickly emptied. I knew it was expected of me to follow, so I rose last and pretended to sway, as if I hadn’t realized how much I had drunk.

  To add credence to my act, I clutched the chair backs to either side, letting my disk fall upon the rug.

  “Forgive me, I seem to have overindulged,” I apologized. “I don’t think I shall make a merry companion for the remainder of the night.”

  Kendall hastened to my side with a rapidity which belied his own drunken act.

  “Do not fear, dear Duchess, I will help my slave escort you.” He snaked an arm about my waist, snugging me to his side as he tried to act like he wasn’t trying to grope me.

  Victor came over and knelt down to pick up the dropped disk. He stood, presenting it to his master. A brief, self-satisfied twitch of the marquis’ lips at sight of what was branded thereon was all the comment he made.

  I let Kendall guide me, hearing the slave’s footsteps behind us.

  We passed down the hallway and up the elegant, marble stairs. Shrieks, moans, and various other noises of both pain and pleasure could barely be heard behind the closed doors we passed. I was forcibly walked through an open pair of white painted, gilded doors at the end of the hall. I peeked over my shoulder to see Victor shutting and locking them, placing his back to the doors and taking up a stance which suggested he would be preventing any attempts at escape.

  “Have another drink, Duchess.” Kendall hadn’t released his grip about my waist. He leaned over to pluck a goblet off a small table.

  Except for the pair of lit six-branched candelabra which sat on end tables, and the fire burning in the hearth, the room was in darkness. My hearing picked up the sound of four separate heartbeats. I took the offering, pretending to sip while I covertly cast my eyes over the room. The walls were papered in flocked red and black. The floor a dark, almost black, stained wood. The centerpiece to the room was a massive carved wooden bed with posters rising almost to the ceiling. The carvings depicted lovers in different positions of copulation. Mirrors, in carved and gilded frames, had been evenly spaced upon the walls. The left wall had a black- and gold-veined marble fireplace where the glow of a banked fire shone.

  To the right, a large square space of wall was covered with black and gold thread brocade drapes trimmed with gold fringe
and tassels. They moved slightly, every now and again, and I could feel a swirl of cold air about the level of my ankles. The marquis’ free hand, during my brief inspection, continued to roam up and down my side, stroking my skin.

  “Perhaps you would care to sit?” Kendall’s voice had roughened.

  Again, it seemed he didn’t care what my answer would be. He brought me to a low-backed divan placed before the fireplace and lowered me onto it. The branding on the disks, along with the behavior and thoughts of the guests at dinner, let me know what he was expecting. I was amused enough with his machinations to continue playing along.

  I leaned back seductively as the strings shifted to show more of my marble flesh while bringing the goblet to my lips as he sat himself next to me. I stared at him over the rim, as Jenabram shifted up onto one knee. He was all but slavering as he placed an arm on the low back and leaned forward, reaching for a decanter behind me on the side table.

  “Let me pour you some more.” His wine-fumed breath flooded my nose.

  Rustling and shifting from the direction of the bed let me know where the two other people hid beneath the generous bedding which formed a mound over the mattress.

  “Don’t bother; we are both more than ready for the entertainment to begin.” I lowered my voice further. “Why don’t you tell your friends to come join us?”

  Puzzlement momentarily clouded his eyes before lust took over. He leered expectantly, flicking a glance behind my head and making a come-ahead gesture with the hand that had been reaching for more wine. He let it then fall to the seat beside my waist, shifting further so his lower half pinned me to the divan.

  Two different hands and arms came into my sight line. One to take the goblet from me, the other to hold my shoulders down, as Kendall lowered his head for a kiss. Oh, this was going to be such fun! Before either man realized what was about, I bit down on the marquis’ bottom lip. One fang pierced through.

  At the sudden pain, Jenabram howled and reared back, nearly ripping half his lip off. His hands automatically came up to clasp over his mouth, feeling for the damage. Blood flowed freely down his chin. In a blinding burst of speed, I grabbed the arms of the man holding my shoulders down and yanked him forward. He slammed into the marquis. They both fell off the divan with yells of rage. I was standing behind the fourth person, so my sudden disappearance from the divan caused him to topple over the side table and onto my vacated spot awkwardly. His cry of pain brought a malicious smile to my lips.