The Bastard’s Pearl

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The Bastard’s Pearl Page 24

by Connie Bailey


  Sheyn pressed his fingertips against the cool stone and tried to hold himself together, but it was no use. His consciousness blew away like milkweed fluff on the hot winds that gusted through his body each time Kashyan thrust. The fire at his core had consumed him and expanded to engulf the world. And he was the heart of the flame whose name was joy.

  Kashyan felt the tremor that ran the length of Sheyn’s body. Leaning forward, he sheathed his jaavi to the root as he stroked Sheyn to a faster rhythm. He kissed and nipped at the smooth skin of Sheyn’s back and churned his hips, driving Sheyn over the edge. Kashyan wrapped an arm around Sheyn’s waist, holding him fast as Sheyn shook with the force of his release. Without faltering in his cadence, Kashyan reached his climax while Sheyn was still trembling in the aftermath of a soul-shaking experience.

  It was several moments before Sheyn remembered he needed to breathe. His gasp was loud in the empty room and echoed oddly. Kashyan’s arms tightened around him, and he smiled contentedly. “I feel as though I died and was reborn,” he said softly.

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “It was for me.” Sheyn groaned as Kashyan disengaged and then turned in his embrace. “You’re quite a handsome fellow. Did you know that?”

  “Djenya used to tell me I was handsome. I never believed him.”

  “Surely you believe me.”

  Kashyan smiled. “Daaksim are trained to flatter their masters.”

  “Bastard.” Sheyn returned the smile. “You know I’ve had no training in pleasing a man.”

  “That’s obvious to anyone who knows you.” Kashyan held Sheyn tighter as Sheyn tried to splash him. “Hush, I didn’t mean it.” He kissed Sheyn’s eyelids. “You’ve just given me the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known. Don’t be cross. I want to kiss and pet you until I’m hard enough to top you again.”

  “I suppose I could allow it. Lift me out of the pool.”

  Kashyan set Sheyn on the edge of the pool and then climbed out. The sight of Sheyn’s long, smooth muscles gleaming in the lamplight made Kashyan want to lay him down on the bench and get his fill of touching. He caught the drying cloth Sheyn tossed to him and wrapped it around his middle. “Let’s go,” he said impatiently as Sheyn wound his hair into a loose braid.

  “You can’t be hard again already.”

  Kashyan looked down. “This is one effect of your witchcraft that I can’t complain about.”

  “And to think you found me so repellent when we met,” Sheyn said as they left the baths.

  “You despised me.”

  “I had every reason to. When we met, you were a savage brute who abducted me and made me your slave.”

  “I guess you could see it that way.” Kashyan leaned close to sniff at Sheyn’s hair. “Why are your quarters so far away?”

  Sheyn chuckled. “You could take me against this wall and no one would gainsay you.”

  “I won’t share you, not even with other men’s eyes.”

  “Sometimes I fear I’ll never be able to civilize you.”

  “I don’t think you want me too civilized.” Kashyan took Sheyn’s elbow and steered him into the right-hand hall. “Finally,” he said as he saw the door to Sheyn’s rooms. He saluted the guards and pulled Sheyn into his arms as soon as the door closed behind them. “I’ll have my pleasure of you now,” he growled.

  Sheyn grinned, bent his knees, and slipped down out of Kashyan’s hold. He spun on his heel and lunged to his right, leaving Kashyan grasping at air.

  “You really are fast,” Kashyan said as he faced Sheyn from across the room. “But so am I.” On the last word, he charged toward Sheyn in great strides. Feinting to his left, he reached to his right and just missed getting a hand on Sheyn’s arm.

  Sheyn leaped over the mattress and turned back to laugh at Kashyan.

  “Stop dancing around and get on the bed.”

  Sheyn laughed again, a bit giddily. “After you.”

  “On the bed, or I will take you against the wall.”

  “Oh, my lord!” Sheyn said with an exaggerated quaver in his voice and then paused. “Sorry, I’m not sure what I should say next. Should I compliment the size of your… jaavi, or should I praise your might in battle?”

  Kashyan shook his head. “Sometimes I fear I’ll never turn you into a proper daaksi.”

  Sheyn jumped on the bed and sprang at Kashyan. He wrapped his arms around Kashyan’s neck and his legs around Kashyan’s waist. “Keep trying,” he said.

  Kashyan lowered Sheyn to his back on the bed. “You may rely on that.”

  Chapter 21

  “CAPTAIN!” DASHA shouted as he knocked at the door of the daaksim quarters.

  “Let him in,” Kashyan called out to the guard as he laced his kilt.

  “A message from the commander,” Dasha said as soon as the door opened. “You’re to attend him as soon as may be in your finest garments. And bring Pearl with you.”

  “Where do I meet him?”

  “He’ll be in the saddle. Your mount is waiting.”

  “Go join the Hawks. I’ll be there presently.” Kashyan went to wake Sheyn as Dasha returned to his duties. “Something’s stirring,” Kashyan said when Sheyn sat up. “Kholya wants us to attend him in our finest. Pack enough for a few days.”

  Sheyn got to his feet. “I’ll meet you at your quarters.”

  Kashyan pulled Sheyn into a kiss and let him go. “Don’t dawdle,” he said as he left.

  AS SHEYN and Kashyan walked into the courtyard, Sheyn was surprised to see Luks in a light two-horse carriage with trunks strapped to its back. When Luks waved Sheyn over, Kashyan told Sheyn to go.

  “For some reason, we’re being very formal,” Kashyan said. “Ride with Luks for now.”

  Sheyn walked to the carriage as Kashyan mounted Karkaran. A soldier climbed into the driver’s seat and took up the reins as Sheyn sat down next to Luks. Sheyn settled his fur cloak over his lap, thankful for the thick layer of cushioning on the bench seat. He turned to speak to Luks and was jostled as the carriage began moving.

  “Where are we going?” Sheyn asked as they passed under the gate.

  “Prince Kholya and Prince Kashyan have been called to court.”

  “What court?”

  “The high king arrived at Taar Muergan last night.”

  Sheyn glanced up at Kashyan and Kholya riding at the head of the small column. “Don’t make me ask. Tell me what you know.”

  “I did. King Djulyan arrived in the night with four other kings and established a court outside the gates of Taar Muergan. He sent immediately for my master and yours.”

  “This is serious, isn’t it?”

  “I can think of only one reason the high king would come here now. He’s been asked to render a judgment. Ognyan must have sent him a message after King Yevdjen was killed.”

  “Why is Kholya going to this court? Why not—?”

  “Prince Kholya is a man of honor, and High King Djulyan is his liege. He can’t refuse a summons.”

  “No, of course not.” Sheyn leaned back against the seat and pulled his fur collar up around his ears. “My nose will probably fall off before we get there.”

  “You slept outdoors just the other day.”

  “I had my lord to warm me.”

  Luks took Sheyn’s hand. “Don’t worry too much,” he said. “Prince Kholya is clever. And it will be warmer when we reach the plains.”

  “I remember when it was me telling you not to worry too much.”

  “A lot has changed in the short time since we met.”

  “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Sheyn smiled at Luks.

  “Can I give you one more piece of advice? While we’re in the high king’s presence, do as I do.”

  “I’ll try.”

  Luks squeezed Sheyn’s hand. “I’ve been to a high court before. Mostly, a lot of men who don’t like one another stand around arguing. We’ll be there as ornaments, unless the high king doesn’t approve of our presence. Then we’ll be a pai
r of daaksim cooling our heels in some boring antechamber with guards on the door.”

  “If I just had one book,” Sheyn muttered.

  “What?”

  “Never mind. How shall we pass the time until we reach Taar Muergan?”

  “We could play some sort of game, I suppose.”

  “Or you could tell me why the Bastard doesn’t trust daaksim.”

  “What makes you think I’d know something like that?”

  “You know every piece of gossip that relates to daaksim.”

  “I’d feel uncomfortable telling you this story.”

  “I love Prince Kashyan,” Sheyn said, lowering his voice. “And he tells me he loves me, but I know he doesn’t trust me… because of what I am.”

  Luks looked into Sheyn’s eyes and then started talking. “This is only a story pieced together from rumors, you understand. You know that Prince Kholya is some six years older than his brother. When Prince Kholya was eighteen and went to swear his fealty as knight to the high king, his father gifted him with a daaksi. King Nakhol of Savaan would not have it said that his son lacked for any royal trappings.”

  “Are you going to tell me that this daaksi seduced young Prince Kashyan?”

  “Indeed he did!” Luks frowned at Sheyn. “If you already know the story, why did you ask?”

  “I was guessing. I tried to imagine what could possibly happen to turn Kasha against daaksim so thoroughly. Being caught having a romp with his beloved elder brother’s toy would have been horrible for him.”

  “What an awful thing to have so much shame bound up with his first taste of sex.”

  “Yes, a terrible thing.” Sheyn cleared his throat. “But I flatter myself I’ve made it enjoyable for him again. What happened to the daaksi?”

  “As it turned out, Honey wasn’t very discriminating. He’d somehow managed to bed most of the royal guards as well as Prince Kashyan and any number of visiting noblemen. He was very wicked indeed.”

  “Or perhaps he’d been so well-trained to please men that he couldn’t stop pleasing them.”

  Luks pursed his lips. “Perhaps. It was Prince Kholya’s right to have Honey executed, but since there was no bond between them, he sent him back to the Shrine. Honey ran away so many times that they stopped bringing him back. He walked into the first brothel he found and began making his fortune.”

  “That last part isn’t true, is it?”

  “I don’t know. I wish it was.” Luks sighed. “What’s sure is that it left a deep scar on Prince Kashyan. He feels such a deep debt of honor to his brother.”

  “He was just a child.” Sheyn was quiet for a moment. “That wasn’t gossip,” he said. “The commander told you about it, didn’t he?”

  “He mustn’t find out.”

  “He won’t hear it from me. Now tell me how things are with you and the commander.”

  Sheyn and Luks spent the day talking and eating from the basket at their feet and slept on the carriage seats that night. They struck the Muergathi royal highway at noon the next day, and the smoothness of the road allowed them to go at a much greater speed. The sun hadn’t begun to set when they saw the walls and towers of Taar Muergan across the plain. To the left, a city of pavilions and tents occupied the parkland where the Horde of the Hawk had once camped. From poles on the tops of the pavilions, the high king’s bear banner rode the breeze slightly higher than Sumadin’s boar, the Lake King’s stag, the horse of the Sea of Grass, and Long Isle’s leaping dolphin.

  Four mounted royal guards met the Savaani party on the road with instructions from the high king. One man took the company of Black Hawks to the area where they would tether their mounts. The mules carrying the presents for the high king were taken by another guard to the royal tent. The two remaining guards escorted the Savaani princes and the daaksim to the high king.

  No one noticed when one of the mule drivers slipped away behind one of the tents. Removing the dust wrap from his head, he struck out for the city gates. Halfway there, he was met by a party of Red Monks.

  “Welcome back, Brother Yozif,” said their leader.

  DJULYAN AND his fellow monarchs sat at a large table under a sunshade of dark blue silk when Kholya’s group approached. The high king rose to greet the newcomers, and the others at the table followed suit.

  “Prince Kholya,” the high king said. As he stepped out of the shade, his thinning hair glinted with copper lights. “I hope you will stand for your father, King Nakhol, at this council.”

  “Sire,” Ognyan said as he moved to Djulyan’s side. “I remind you of the matter we spoke of.”

  “I remind you of my orders not to raise this issue until I give leave.”

  Ognyan subsided with ill grace to stand beside Kezlath.

  Djulyan gestured to the line of men standing just under the sunshade. “Kholya, let me present King Ognyan of Sumadin, King Kezlath of Muergath, Lukha, King of the Sea of Grass, King Preth of Long Isle, and the Lake King, Agneth-Khol.”

  Kholya and Kashyan bowed to the gathered sovereigns.

  “Come and sit,” Djulyan said. “I’ve declared a ban on any talk of tomorrow’s business.” He leaned close and spoke in Kholya’s ear. “You’ll have to stand in court and hear charges, but I don’t want to speak of it this evening.”

  “I understand, sire,” Kholya said.

  “I haven’t taken a journey for a long time,” Djulyan said. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoy being in the saddle. In an attempt to keep this mood, I’ve decreed that tonight is for feasting.”

  “Before we sit,” Kholya said, “we have a duty to attend.” He gestured toward the carriage.

  “Good, you brought the daaksim.” The high king smiled.

  “Where shall they wait for us?”

  “My daaksi will see to their comfort,” Djulyan said as he looked around vaguely.

  “Your daaksi, sire?” Kezlath said.

  “Yes, my daaksi. Djeyd. The most enchanting creature you ever saw.”

  “Well, I’ve not seen him,” Kezlath replied.

  “Is he not here? What an odd thing.” Djulyan paused. “He does tend to drift, though.”

  “I didn’t know you’d acquired a daaksi, sire,” Kholya said.

  “Oh yes. Shortly after I saw you last, he came to me.”

  “Congratulations.”

  Djulyan nodded. “I never felt I needed a daaksi until my queen died. I wasn’t sure it would agree with me, but he’s a great comfort.”

  “Then I hope you won’t mind if we keep Pearl and Velvet close to hand.”

  “Not at all. Djeyd sleeps in my tent, and I assume your daaksim will share yours.”

  “Sire!” Ognyan burst out, pointing at the carriage. “That daaksi belongs to me!”

  “Did I not bid everyone be silent on this matter until tomorrow?” Djulyan said mildly.

  “But sire! By letting him keep the boy, you’re winking at his crime.”

  Djulyan looked over at Sheyn. “It doesn’t look like he’s being held against his will.”

  “He is bonded to my brother,” Kholya said.

  “Your brother is a thief!” Ognyan burst out.

  Kezlath put a hand on Ognyan’s arm. “Forgive my guest,” he said. “He’s wroth at the injustices done to him, but he will wait until it’s time to make formal accusations.”

  Ognyan glared at Kashyan. “This is all your fault, Bastard.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Djulyan said.

  Ognyan contained himself with an effort. “May I have your leave to go?” he growled. “I must prepare for court tomorrow.”

  “Will I not see you until then?” Djulyan asked. “Or will you be at the feast tonight?”

  “Excuse me, sire, but there will be those at your table I don’t care to break bread with.”

  “Until tomorrow, then.”

  Ognyan bowed and turned away. Sheyn was the only one who saw the sneering glance Ognyan exchanged with Kezlath as the Sumadi left the high king’s presence.
r />   AS KHOLYA and Kashyan joined the table of kings, Djulyan’s seneschal showed Sheyn and Luks to a nearby tent where they could wait in ease. The silk pavilion had been made comfortable with carpets and cushions, and a low table held a pot of khai and several small cups. As Luks poured, Sheyn helped himself to a selection of small, flat cakes soaked in honey.

  “After we’ve refreshed ourselves, we should begin dressing for the feast,” Luks said.

  “Did you bring a full wardrobe?”

  “Weren’t you listening when the high king’s seneschal was talking? Garments have been set aside for us to choose from.”

  “How very hospitable. Where are the clothes?”

  Luks took another sip of his khai. “I imagine they’re being brought here right now, since that’s what I requested.”

  “How clever of you! Now tell me what I can expect from this feast.”

  “I’m sure it will be quite as usual. Boars roasted whole. Naked dancing. Duels with daggers.”

  “What? Oh… I see.” Sheyn smiled. “You’re teasing me.”

  “I’ve learned to enjoy it.” Luks returned Sheyn’s smile. “Now, what are we going to do with all that hair?”

  “I’ll wear my clasp as I always do.”

  “I don’t think so. Not tonight. Tonight, I think you should wear it loose.”

  “Why?”

  “Because we want to make a favorable impression on the high king. It might help Kholya and Kashyan’s cause.”

  “And we’ll do this by dazzling the eyes of the high king?”

  “A daaksi can be very persuasive without saying a word.”

  “I find this somewhat distasteful, but if you think it will help, I’ll wear whatever you like.”

  “Someday I’ll tell you the tale of Fawn Fairskin.”

 

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