House of Lust

by Tony Roberts

  She refreshed herself, made sure the girls were fine, then made her way to the main audience room, where Thetos held his hearings and official functions. Today all appointments had been cancelled due to Amne’s arrival.

  Argan was there with Thetos, both having waited for Amne for a short while. They had passed the time discussing matters of dealing with a disagreement between two minor houses over a plot of land down by the sea. It seemed an increase recently in piscine stocks had led to an argument over sea hunting rights and where areas of ownership lay, and it looked as if the arguments were going to spill over onto dry land.

  Thetos was going to hear both parties on the morrow and had run the situation past Argan to see if the young prince had any grasp of what was needed to ensure both sides remained calm and prepared to listen.

  Amne breezed in and smiled at the two. “Hello Argan, you’ve grown!” She kissed her half-brother on the cheek and he grinned and did likewise to her.

  “And you’re just as I remember, Amne. I’m glad to see you.” He turned to Thetos who had stood up, sucking in his bulging stomach and puffing out his chest.

  “May I present Governor Thetos Olskan. Governor, my sister, Princess Amne Pelgion of the House of Koros.”

  Thetos grasped Amne’s hand with his good one and bowed low, kissing the back of it and smiling widely. “I am happy to make your acquaintance at last, your highness. I have heard of your beauty, ah, but those tales are clearly sadly inadequate.”

  Amne beamed. “Oh, Governor, flattery will get you everywhere.” She eyed his hook, noting it was a shiny, small version. “I have heard of your hook, Governor, but I was told it was much larger.”

  “I have a number of them, ma’am; this is my standard official one, but I do have some that are much bigger.”

  “I would have preferred you to wear a bigger one, Governor. I like big.” She smiled wickedly at the governor who fought hard to restrain a burst of laughter.

  Argan looked at the two in bafflement. Clearly something was being discussed that he was unaware of. “So what’s new, Amne? What news from Kastan?”

  “Ah,” Amne sat in a padded chair and the two did likewise. “Well, lucky news of Venn’s gathering of an army in Kral didn’t get to the palace until after I left, or Elas might not have let me go. After all, we are closer to the frontier here, and he would certainly not let me go to Zofela.”

  “We are safe here, ma’am,” Thetos responded, nodding with emphasis. “That Venn army would have to go through Bragal to get to us.”

  “Unless there’s a second one we don’t know about in Epros,” Argan said.

  “Of which there has been nothing, sire.”

  Argan nodded in acceptance. “So, tell me, when can I meet my nieces? How are they?”

  Amne laughed. “They’re a handful! They’re tired after such a long journey and have been put to bed. No doubt they’ll be up and full of life later. Probably after my bedtime! So, news of Kastan? Nothing is much different, Elas and Lalaas are the same. You should write more often, by the way,” she jabbed Argan accusingly.

  “Ah, sorry, Amne. It sort of got forgotten with all my training.”

  “Well don’t forget your own family. You got my letters, didn’t you? So you can hardly have forgotten me!”

  Argan coloured. “I’m sorry – I promise I’ll write regularly in future.”

  “Hmm, you do that or else you’ll be in trouble with me.” She looked at Thetos. “Governor, where is Metila? I must meet this mysterious woman.”

  Thetos looked a little uncomfortable. “Ah, I thought it best to keep her out of the way for a while.”

  “Why? I’m not going to eat her. From what I hear, she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself. I want to meet the woman who seduced my father, and saved Argan’s life here.”

  “Ah,” Thetos looked helplessly at Argan, who shrugged. “I’ll send for her then,” he got up and went to the door.

  Amne grinned and leaned across to Argan, whispering in his ear. “Don’t tell anyone, Argan, but I’m expecting another child.”

  “Oh? Oh!” Argan’s eyes went wild. He glanced across at Thetos’ back, then smiled. “Congratulations! That’ll be three.”

  “Yes, I am counting,” Amne said wryly, then chuckled. “I’ll need to write to Elas, and father. Could you get me a quill and parchment?”

  “Yes, sure,” Argan said, and then went silent as Thetos returned.

  “She’ll be here shortly. I hope you’re not mad at her, ma’am.”

  “Oh, goodness, no! Anyone who saves the life of my kid brother,” she clapped Argan on the shoulder who looked startled, “deserves my gratitude. As for what she and father did, well that’s between them and not for me to judge.” Especially as I hardly kept my marriage sacred, she added to herself.

  Thetos waited nervously while Argan asked about her journey. A few moments later the door opened and in came Metila, dressed plainly and with stains on her clothing. “I come,” she said. “From kitchen.”

  Amne sniffed and nodded. “So I can tell. Gharish?”

  “Yes!” Metila looked surprised. “You know Bragalese food?”

  “I spent a couple of years there living off the land. You get used to what is available,” she silently thanked Lalaas once more. “How do you enhance the flavour here? The local plants aren’t available in Turslenka, surely.”

  Metila shook her head. Both women sized each other up. Metila was shorter, darker and slimmer. She eyed Amne’s stomach and lifted an eyebrow. Amne smiled and put a finger to her lips. Metila smiled and nodded. Amne wondered how the witch had noticed, but if she was a witch then perhaps she knew or sensed things ordinary people did not.

  “Tell me, Metila,” Amne said, putting an arm round the surprised Bragalese woman’s shoulders and leading her off towards the far corner, “what’s the secret of the thick sauce in Gharish? I’ve tried a few times but it’s as runny as an equine’s urine!”

  Metila giggled and proceeded to give the princess advice on the addition of long-grass seeds, crushed and pounded. Amne looked relieved and sat down with the older woman, their heads close together.

  Thetos looked amazed. “Well, sire, that’s a surprise – I would have never thought that would happen!”

  “Why not?” Argan countered, “Amne is a very friendly person and so is Metila.”

  The governor grinned tolerantly. “Sire, that does not always lead to happiness. Both women are, shall I say, strong with their opinions, and are pretty hot-tempered. At least I know Metila is and from what I have been told, so is your sister. Correct me if I’m wrong?”

  “Oh, she does say what she thinks. Is that bad?”

  “Depends, sire. Depends to whom and in what situation. Still, given their backgrounds and history, I was expecting a spitting match, like two felines on a wall.”

  “Oh – you think that would have happened? That would be awful.”

  Thetos fluttered his one hand. “I don’t know, I would have liked to have watched that – from a safe distance, of course. Piece of advice, young prince, don’t get in the way of a she-fight. You’d end up the worse for wear.”

  Argan frowned. He wasn’t entirely sure what the governor was talking about, or whether he was being that serious. The two women got up and returned to the two males. Amne smiled at Metila. “I will get more recipes from you before I leave for Zofela.”

  “I like that,” Metila bowed, smiled at Thetos, bowed to Argan, then disappeared.

  Amne took Argan by the arm. “Now, Governor, with your permission, I’m going to steal my brother away from you and catch up on old times. I’ll see you at dinner?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Thetos bowed.

  “And governor, wear a bigger one,” she pointed at the hook.

  “You shall not be disappointed, ma’am.”

  “I know I won’t, Governor,” she winked at him, then pulled a confused Argan with her out of the room. “Come on, slow cart, you got roots growing out of
your feet?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “I don’t know, somewhere private. Your room?”

  Argan led her to his quarters and they sat down in the only two chairs there. “So, how are you, Amne? Is everything alright with you now?”

  “Yes, honestly, you shouldn’t worry about me.”

  “But being a prisoner of that horrible man! How did that happen? Nobody told me except that Lalaas rescued you.”

  “Oh, it was too awful to speak of. Just say he was angry at being defeated in battle by Elas a while back – you remember that battle? – well, he wanted revenge and killed poor Captain Teleken before he took me prisoner. He hurt me but I’m not going to go into that and you really don’t need to know about that. I’m fine now, really, and with child,” she patted herself again.

  “I’m going to be an uncle again,” Argan grinned. “Is it going to be a boy or girl?”

  “Oh, don’t ask me – ask the gods; they’ll know. So, what about you? You’re so much taller than I remember. You’re going to be a man before long, looking at you. I bet you’ll be glad to finish your studies.”

  Argan nodded. “So much to learn, sometimes my head hurts. Kerrin, too, says the same even though he learns half as much as me.”

  “Oh yes, how is he? It was sad to hear of his father’s death. Oh, I hear you have a Bragalese slave girl to attend your every need. What’s her name – Sasia?”

  “Yes but I call her Amal, and she’s not really my slave.”

  “I know, it’s just an expression. Servant girl. There. Watch out for her, Argan, they can be very passionate when they get to adulthood.”

  “Amne, I don’t know what to do about her.”

  The princess looked at her brother. “Tell me.”

  Argan explained about the Growing Through time which was to come, and his promise to be with her at that time. “But is it right for a prince to – be with a servant like that? I-I mean Metila has told me what happens between….. a man and a woman….” Argan felt himself turn red.

  “Oh Argan,” Amne hugged her brother. “It’ll be alright – you’re a lovely decent boy, and soon to be man. You made a promise and you keep it; be a man of your word. Anyway, we both know father was with Metila, and he’s an emperor and she’s a servant.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. What do you think of Metila?”

  “Extremely interesting. I can see why she could have seduced father. Lots of character, she knows her mind and she’s no fool. Even speaking with her for just a few moments I saw that.”

  “I mean – do you think she’s pretty?”

  Amne looked at Argan. “Oh, I see. Do you? Are you finding women more interesting now?”

  “I always find women interesting – and men.”

  Amne grinned and ruffed her brother’s hair. “I was teasing you. Do I think she’s pretty? Hmmm…. she has character and strength, and I can see that would make her attractive to some men. Pretty? I suppose in a way, yes.”

  “I think she is,” Argan nodded. “Not like your kind of pretty, but still pretty.”

  Amne rested her chin in one of her palms and regarded her brother intently. “So, Argan, tell me what kind of pretty we are.” She smiled.

  “Well,” he thought for a moment, looked up at Amne who was still smiling with that twinkle he liked, then grinned. “You’re bright pretty. Metila’s dark pretty.” He saw puzzlement wash over Amne’s face, so he thought deeply on explaining it better. “You’ve got really big bright eyes, really lovely eyes, and big bright hair, like ripe grain stalks in the fields, and a really lovely smile that makes me smile too,” he smiled as her mouth widened with pleasure. “And – and it’s like the sun coming out when you do that.”

  “Aw, Argan!” Amne fought back a sob. “That’s one of the loveliest things anyone has said to me!”

  “Really? But it’s true,” he protested. “I mean…” he floundered for words.

  Amne took hold of him and hugged him close. “You don’t need to explain, Argan, you wonderful brother!”

  Argan nestled against Amne, enjoying the closeness. He had missed the mischievous, naughty woman, and in fact found he rather liked being pressed against her chest. Amne broke the hug and held him at arm’s length, looking at him intently. “So you like Metila too, eh? Tell me why you find her pretty.”

  “Oh, she’s got dark eyes that – make me want to look at them. They’re not bright like yours, but dark and it’s a sort of, oh how can I say it? A sort of attracting dark, I want to get close to them. When she smiles its nice too, but not as nice as yours. She doesn’t smile that often. She’s much more serious. There’s a kind of pretty about her I can’t really describe, but I like being with her and looking at her. It’s like something not being said but you can hear it.”

  Amne looked at Argan in surprise. “Well, that’s something I never thought of before – and how expressive! You do surprise me, Argan. I think you’re becoming quite a thinker.”

  “Is that bad?”

  “No, not at all. Use your brains, and you’ll be alright.”

  The door opened and in came Amal. She stopped, put her hand to her mouth and began apologising. Argan waved her in and told her who Amne was. Amal knelt and bowed her head.

  “This is Amal, Amne.”

  Amne nodded, it had to be. “Amal, stand up; let me see you properly.”

  The Bragalese girl obeyed and looked nervously at Argan who smiled encouragingly at her. “Your majesty, I am honoured to meet you.”

  “Thank you. I have heard about you, Amal, and am pleased to have met you at last. How do you like looking after my brother?”

  Amal smiled shyly at Argan. “I wouldn’t wish to be working for anyone else, ma’am. He’s so kind and friendly.”

  “Yes he is that – and don’t go blushing again, Argan, you’re like a repeating sunset today.”

  Amal put her hand to her mouth, partly as a reaction to someone scolding the prince, and partly to cover up a sudden urge to giggle. Argan rolled his eyes helplessly. He had no composure around his sister. She certainly brought the worst out in him.

  Amne had seen the shy look and little tinkling bells went off in her head. Oh, oh! She likes him. Amne smiled widely at Argan which only made him feel more unsettled – but he didn’t know why. “Argan darling, relax, you’re like a Taboz bow fully drawn back.”

  “Um, you’re smiling and I don’t know why.”

  “It’s not important, Argan, I’m just happy to see someone so dedicated to you. Amal, I’m pleased that my brother has someone like you to care for him. He means a lot to me; he’s such a loveable boy. I know he’s in good hands with you.”

  “Oh yes, ma’am, I would do anything for him!”

  I think you would, my little Bragalese lady, Amne mused. “Tell me, Amal, how old are you?”

  “I-I don’t really know, I think about fourteen or fifteen.”

  “Same age as Argan. You are not far off your Growing Through then.”

  “N-no, ma’am. I do not know when that will be.”

  “Nobody does, until it happens, or so I’m told. Metila is tutoring you?”

  She nodded.

  Amne eyed Argan. He was in the best possible hands. “Amal, are you here to clean the room?”

  “Yes, my duties in the kitchen have finished – do you want me to return later?”

  “Yes please. I want to spend a little time with Argan.” Amne smiled winningly at her who curtseyed and left them alone. “What a lovely servant you have there, Argan.”

  “Yes she is, and she’s a very good friend to me too.”

  “So what about Lady Velka? You’re still betrothed to her, aren’t you? How will she deal with you having that little beautiful servant? Especially after you and her have her Growing Through experience together.”

  “I’ve already written to her about that, but she’s not replied yet. Anyway, our marriage isn’t going to happen for a while is it? I’ll make sure Amal remains my servan
t.”

  Amne cocked her head in surprise. “That’s not the usual way we have personal body attendants. I have handmaidens, the men normally have male servants. It avoids scandal, you see.”

  “Sis,” he said, and she smiled at the term that Jorqel normally used when he spoke to her. “That doesn’t stop scandals. Father and Metila for example, and – ah – you and Dragan Purfin.”

  “That was an abduction, Argan, which is different.”

  “I mean before that.”

  Amne looked shocked. “What – do you know of that?”

  “Court gossip, I heard through a couple of visiting messengers in the governor’s room. I was surprised, but then they said you and Lalaas were close, and you and Vosgaris, too. I didn’t understand what they were saying then but since Metila has told me what goes on between a man and woman – well I can guess.”

  “Those big-mouthed messengers. I’ll have their tongues torn out!”

  “Amne, it’s alright, I don’t think worse of you – you’re my sister and lovely and I can see why men love you.”

  “Agh! It’s what others think. If you overheard their gossip, who else did? I’ll make sure this is stopped; it doesn’t do our reputation any good. So there’s father and myself, and Istan isn’t exactly our best example, is he? So the family is looking to you to give us a decent face – and having a sultry Bragalese personal body servant will have tongues wagging like pennants in the wind.”

  “Then I shall face my accusers and speak to them. I’m not going to change my mind, Amne.”

  “So I see. Ah well, it’s your reputation that’ll be dragged through the mud. Mine is fully soiled, and it’s too late to change that. I have stopped being a woman of loose morals, by the way. My experience at the hands of that Purfin man has changed me.”

  “And you’re married, and have another baby on the way. Does it hurt?”

  “No, Argan – you do feel odd sometimes, and it gets quite uncomfortable. When the baby kicks it’s a really strange feeling. I could be talking away quite happily, and then – ooh! There are moments of being sick or dizzy or feeling too hot that I could do without. It’s alright until the birth, then its agony.”