The only way to ease his mind was to imagine Drahka survived. Had he, Drahka could soothe Bithia. Tears fell beyond Viltori’s closed lids, stinging horribly as they fell into open wounds along his face. How he would have rejoiced in their bond. Had he survived, he would have put everything aside, including his stupid pride, to fully share his world with two people eager to share their worlds with him.
Drahka, so serious, all along hiding his astounding intelligence, and Bithia, the flirt, hiding behind sex as a way to reassure herself she was worthy of love. Had Viltori been brave enough, he could have shown her the truth. She was beyond worthy. So great was her due, the gods had sent two men to her. Sadly, one hadn’t been courageous enough. Viltori’s only hope was that Drahka would give her the love she so deeply needed and deserved.
Wondering now what would have happened if he’d just fallen to his knees and satisfied the two men in the basin room, Viltori almost laughed. Bringing the two excitable fools to climax would have taken so little of his time and might have been more enjoyable by shaming them with their greedy lust. Nothing humiliated a man more than making him climax with barely a touch, and Viltori knew all the secret spots. Yet he’d held to principal. It was wrong for them to demand. Had they asked, he probably still would have said no, out of respect for his relationship with Bithia and Drahka, but still he wondered what if?
With his life held in oblivion, Viltori had plenty of time to consider what might have been. What happened to the recruits he’d shared fleeting moments with? What of the girls from his village before he’d come to the palace? Had he broken any hearts in his need for satisfaction? He honestly hoped not. None had hurt him. Always, he’d looked to his lovers with an open heart and an even more open mind. When it came to sex, nothing was out of bounds. Viltori didn’t think he’d ever put his needs before his companion’s needs, but perhaps he inadvertently had. Was that why he was being punished? Despair gripped him when he thought he had unintentionally slighted someone.
Muffled voices drew his attention away from himself. They talked so fast they sounded like buzzing insects. He laughed at that. People as bugs. Bithia with wings. She would make a lovely picture with her spiky black hair, enormous eyes and great spanning gossamer wings. But what of Drahka? To lift his bulk into the air would take a gigantic wingspan. Not only that, but he would look silly flittering about. Time and again the buzzing voices came and went. Too, he sensed light and dark shifting very quickly. What was wrong with him? Why was everything around him moving so fast? He swore he’d heard Bithia’s voice several times, but the noise was so fleeting he couldn’t fully grasp on to her.
Frustrated, he stopped bothering to understand where he was or why he was there. All he knew was he hurt and if he couldn’t return to those he loved, he wanted to die.
Chapter Twenty-Two
As Bithia entered the infirmary, she caught a young man with unruly black hair leaning over Viltori’s glass case. Terrified blue eyes leapt from him to her. Before he could run, Bithia lifted her hand. “Wait!”
Trembling, he lowered his head submissively. He was dressed in a brown robe with a black sash trimmed in crimson. She recognized him as the young man she’d chased away from Viltori in the large bathing pool in the tishiary, which explained his fear of her, but she also knew he was the one who alerted Sterlave about the attack. If not for his quick feet, Drahka might be dead. Moreover, the guards posted all along this wing of the palace wouldn’t let anyone harmful near Viltori.
“You must be Rown.” She tried for a bright air, but that was impossible given the room, the circumstance and what she had come to do. Drahka had grudgingly agreed to give her time alone to say her final goodbye. When the twin suns set, they would meet here and remove all support from Viltori.
Rown nodded miserably.
“Please look at me.”
Warily, he looked up. The redness from crying had only enhanced the white shards in his soft blue eyes.
“I wanted to thank you for what you did.”
His bottom lip trembled. Fresh tears slid down his cheeks. Body slumping forward, his shoulders sloped down, curving in toward his chest as if he were curling himself up into a ball.
Bithia had no idea why her statement would cause so much pain. “You’re a hero.”
A cry like a wounded animal escaped him as he shook his head. “I ran like a coward!”
Understanding now, she regretted her statement. “No.” Stepping toward him, she took his shoulders into her hands, forcing him to stand tall despite his still-bowed head. “You saved Drahka’s life.”
Darting his tormented gaze to Viltori’s passive form, he said, “If I would have fought, I might have saved him too.”
Below her hands, Rown’s shoulders were strong, but slight. As an ungati, he was trained for gratification, not combat. He no more knew how to throw a punch than she did. Softly she said, “You were made for pleasure, Rown, not fighting. You did the right thing.” If he’d stayed, those men would have killed him.
Lifting his head, meeting her gaze, he took a deep breath, then blurted, “I miss him so much!”
“I know.” Embracing him, Bithia wrapped her arms around him, hugging him to her chest. Gasping sobs escaped him as he tried to collect himself, but her soothing words and touch told him she didn’t mind. “I miss him too.” Somehow, the act of comforting another person who cared about Viltori gave her strength. Her eyes watered, but she held her tears in check. Right now, this young man needed to release his grief, and she would gladly help. Beyond Rown’s tousled hair, she saw Viltori, lying so still. Closing her eyes, she squeezed Rown against her as if hugging Viltori one last time.
“He was so smart.” Rown hiccupped, his arms surprisingly strong about her waist. “And funny. He was always joking around and he was fascinated by you.” Rubbing his cheek against her, he took a deep breath. “Viltori was a good friend.”
With one hand to his back and the other against his head, Bithia stood holding Rown until his tears abated and he caught his breath. Such a simple show of kindness gave her the strength she would need to let Viltori go.
“I want to ask you something and I want your honest opinion.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to call them back. She already knew the answer. Why would she wish to further torment this tenderhearted young man?
Rown nodded, his chin hard against the top of her breast.
Since it was too late for her to turn back now, she plunged ahead. “Would Viltori want to stay alive forever trapped in that glass cage?”
Stepping back, Rown forced her arms to release him. He turned to Viltori and whispered, “No, my lady. Viltori was a man who rarely stood still.” He winced, closing his eyes. “Trapping him in there forever would be cruel.” Rown looked to her face, then his gaze dropped to her chest. Grabbing the end of his sash, he briskly rubbed the fabric across her breasts in an effort to mop up his tears. Suddenly realizing where he was touching her, Rown turned bright red and yanked his hand to his side. “My lady, I’m sorry, I made a mess.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She brushed her hand across the bodice of her dress. A few tears and snifflings were not going to hurt anything. By the end of this day, she imagined her own and Drahka’s would cover her. Besides, one more man touching her breasts wouldn’t hurt anything, either. “Has your mistress come to see him?”
Rown shook his head, causing a clump of black curls to fall across his gaze. “Kasmiri did not know him.”
Bithia remembered the brief glance she and her half-sister had exchanged across the gardens during Ambo’s stoning. “Why does she refuse to meet with me?” Her own sister rejecting her cut cruelly into her self-esteem. Bad enough her own mother and father could not abide her, but her half-sister? What had Bithia ever done to Kasmiri?
Confusion twisted Rown’s face. “My lady, she said it was you who refused her.”
Upon a deep breath, Bithia realized the truth. “Ambo.” For some reason he did not wish for them t
o speak. Perhaps Kasmiri had the answers Bithia sought. “Will you take me to her?”
A genuine smile transformed Rown’s whole demeanor. He stood tall and nodded toward the door. “I would be honored, my lady.”
“And that’s why I didn’t force the issue.” Kasmiri settled delicately into the puffy chair across from Bithia, arranging her black dress over her swollen belly. “After all, you are the empress, and Ambo insisted you refused me as your sister due to my illegitimacy.”
Ironic that Bithia had been discussing that term with Drahka just a few days ago. “I would never refuse you.” Personally, she agreed with Drahka that the origins of a child didn’t matter one bit. What mattered was the child. Bithia set her cup on the low table between them. Muttering under her breath, she swore, “If Ambo were still alive, I would kill him.”
Kasmiri laughed, then sobered. “Ambo was a greedy, vicious man who cared nothing about those he hurt.” Brown eyes darted toward a generous bank of windows that overlooked the gardens.
Bithia offered, “I am truly sorry if the activities there have lessened your enjoyment of the view.”
Rubbing her belly absently, Kasmiri shook her head. “No, it has no impact. He deserved his punishment. All those citizens and servants lined up to cast stones… Clearly, Ambo hurt many, many people.”
After hearing the story of Kasmiri and Sterlave’s adventure, Bithia understood just how deeply her sister’s hatred of Ambo went.
“By his actions, he almost killed me and my bondmate.” Gripping her glass so tightly she practically put dents into the surface, Kasmiri said, “He destroyed our mother, taking all of her wealth to keep his mouth shut, and in the end, he still betrayed her!”
“He took all of her wealth?” With her constant bed-hopping, she’d never even thought about her inheritance.
“You did not know?” Kasmiri look mortified to be the one to tell her. “I’m sorry, I assumed…”
“I guess I thought someone was watching over it.” She cringed. “Besides Ambo.” She took a measured sip of her drink, then set the cup down as her mind whirled. “I don’t know why I’m surprised. At the stoning, so many stepped forward and accused him of taking bribes that he seemed to have stuck his fat, greedy fingers into everyone’s pockets.” She would have to have someone locate those funds and return them. It seemed she herself must stand in that line with hundreds, possibly thousands, of others.
“Please accept my most humble apology.” Kasmiri trembled, and Bithia realized her sister thought she would punish her for telling her an unwelcome truth.
“Better that I know than not, yes?” In an effort to calm her further, Bithia asked, “What was our mother like?” To give her nervous hands something to do, she grasped the cup again, taking another sip. She couldn’t remember what Kasmiri called the strong and sweet drink, but the purple liquid warmed her and filled the air with the most appealing fragrance.
“Clathia was beautiful.” Relaxing into the velvety black fabric of the chair, Kasmiri cupped her glass in one palm as she cradled it with the other. “Well, of course you know that, you’ve seen the paintings of her, but she was strong too. She climbed galbol trees for sport.” Kasmiri described the trees as massive with spiky branches that spiraled around the trunk. “She was as devoted to the gods as she was to her empire.” After a brief hesitation Kasmiri finished, “And no matter what a rude, insensitive idiot I was, she still loved me.”
Despite her best efforts, embarrassing tears filmed Bithia’s gaze. Abruptly she stood, depositing her cup to the table before moving off to the windows. Mounds of clean, white snow covered all traces of the activities that had transpired below. Regardless of the gruesome nature of the punishment, Ambo had earned every bit of torment he’d received. Her breath misted the glass. Bithia wiped it away with the palm of her hand.
Kasmiri drew near, standing silently beside her, her hands low on her stomach as if holding the child within. A brief flash of envy shot through Bithia, but she pushed the unwelcome thought away. She was happy for her sister. What felt like jealousy was actually longing. Only now did she acknowledge how deep her disappointment was when the physician told her she wasn’t pregnant.
“How can it be that our mother never carried me?” From all Bithia had gleaned from careful conversations, Clathia carried only one child: the woman at her side.
Hesitantly, Kasmiri explained. “The technology has been used for seasons to create paratanists.” Somewhat ashamed, she precisely explained how the elements of male and female Harvesters were combined after the Harvest to create children, who were then carried by tanists, who in turn were harvested to bring forth paratanists. “Your new protocol liaison was created from this ritual.”
“Enovese?” From what Undanna had taught her, paratanists were untouchable servants given to the Harvesters. They lived their lives in silence, speaking only when spoken to, and they were forever shrouded in bland beige robes with enormous cowl hoods that hid their faces. Bithia would very much like to learn how Enovese and Chur had become bonded.
Kasmiri nodded, then hastened to add, “No more is this ritual practiced. Chur, Enovese’s bondmate, put an end to this. Now, after the Harvest, the male and female Harvesters mate in the traditional way.”
“Like Kerrick and Ariss.” Bithia knew that someday, the child they’d created, the first true paratanist in thousands of seasons, would rule by her side. However, she had not understood all the details until now. No wonder Ambo did not want her to talk to her sister. Kasmiri was the one person who could give her the details that mattered.
“All someone needed was a viable sample from our mother and your father, and then a woman to carry you.”
“Where would they get such a sample…” Bithia trailed off, deep in thought. Just at the edge of her mind, the answer waited. Closing her eyes forced her thoughts deeper and there she found the solution. Popping her eyes open, she turned to her sister and blurted, “The breeding cage.”
Kasmiri shuddered. Clearly, she knew what the cage was and the purpose behind it. In order to secure the throne, Bithia had to enter the cage and subject herself to a myriad of mental and medical tests. She’d never spoken to anyone about her experiences there; however, that would be how someone could get a viable sample from Clathia. As to her father, that wouldn’t be difficult, given the fact the man had sex with just about everyone he met. Bithia was convinced her penchant for lust was inherited from her father.
“I don’t think Mother ever entered the cage.” Doubt creased lines on Kasmiri’s forehead and along the sides of her mouth. “I didn’t.”
“Of course not.” Thoughts spinning, Bithia placed one hand on the glass to steady herself. “Ambo knew you were not legitimate. He never would have let you enter the cage. Had you, everyone would have known the truth. Ambo wouldn’t have had anything to hold over our mother’s head.” It was all starting to make a horrible kind of sense. Bithia’s mind churned with possibilities as the cold seeped slowly up from her palm. “Ambo would have ordered our mother within before her first bonding to ensure she was legitimate, but also to verify her fertility.” A flash of fury stiffened her spine, clenching her fingers against the freezing glass. “What if I killed the one man who could give me the answers to my origins?”
Uttering a bark of dismissal, Kasmiri said, “Do you honestly think Ambo would have told you the truth?”
Relief flooded her ravaged nerves. “No.” Ambo would have delighted in sending her on dangerous journeys seeking information that would have left her further from the truth. “For all I know, Ambo is the one who had me created. What I still don’t know is why would he or someone else do such a thing? What do they stand to gain with my existence?”
“I don’t know.” Kasmiri pulled Bithia’s hand from the glass. Her touch was like fire across her cold fingers. “All I know is that I am glad you are here.”
Acceptance was like a balm to her soul. Bithia gave her hand a soft squeeze. “Thank you.”
&nbs
p; Together they looked out over the vast blankness. Snow covered everything. No tracks or marks of any kind marred the pristine surface that stretched away from the palace. For a brief moment, Bithia wondered how supplies were delivered, then realized they could not move overland in these conditions. They either had supplies stockpiled or brought them in by air. Or transported them the way she’d come to Diola, through a portal.
“It’s going to snow again,” Bithia said, for lack of anything better to say. Over the Onic Mountains, the sky was deep gray, colored like an angry bruise.
“I think Mother would have loved you, Bithia.” Kasmiri’s voice was as soothing as the drink she’d offered. “You are like her. Very strong physically and deeply passionate, about more than just your empire.” Kasmiri placed her hand against Bithia’s back. Warm and dry, her touch brought both joy and sadness to her heart. “I’m so sorry about Viltori.”
Nodding, Bithia noticed it was just getting dark enough outside that she could see her own reflection in the glass, faint and insubstantial, but there. She was still here. Like Drahka said last night, he was still here, and her obsession with Viltori’s body had to end. She was strong enough to release him. Loving him included releasing his spirit when he passed.
“I’m supposed to meet Drahka in the infirmary at sundown.” Placing her hands against the glass, she let the cold bleed into her to chase away the sudden inferno of denial. “We’ve decided there is no hope for recovery, so we will let Viltori go.”
Kasmiri visibly leaned closer. “He’s not dead?”
“The physician put him into semi-suspended animation.” She’d tried to keep that fact a secret, but the revelation spread like a huge wave after the liaison debate today. Bithia was surprised Kasmiri had not yet heard. Then again, she said she’d been feeling too sick to do much of anything but rest in the plush comfort of her rooms. Everything in her and Sterlave’s suite was black, burnt umber, or the deepest brown. The colors complimented Kasmiri. Bithia found that though the furnishings were sparse, they were of the highest quality.
Wicked Empress:The Onic Empire, Book 4 Page 19