by Anya Bast
Anaisse smiled. “How rare and special! You are very lucky to have known your birthparent.”
Lilane’s eyes flashed dangerously. “I knew them both,” she said low, angrily. “I knew them up until the time Sudhra decided to wage war on my people and they were run through by marauding soldiers.”
Lilane glanced at all within hearing distance. “What mind fever has taken all of you?” Her voice rose. “To kill us off when it’s so very difficult to make more?”
“Lilane,” Rue said in a warning voice. He snaked a hand under the table and tightened it on her thigh. Inwardly, he urged her to heed her words. The errand he would hopefully complete this eve could very secure her country’s dominance in the war. It was worth a small sacrifice of pride.
Vant laughed short and hard. “Seems your slave is need of more training, my Lord Rue.”
Indeed. “Oh, don’t fear. She will be roundly punished for her unruly tongue.”
Vant leaned toward Lilane. “What do you mean by kill us off? You speak of the slaughter of your people, not ours. Why should we care if pagan barbarians are difficult to make?” He sneered at her. “We should kill them all down to the last babe.”
Lilane’s hand clenched on Rue’s under the table. “Do you not know your own country’s history? The Nordanese and the Sudhraians are one people, split only by religious ideology and cultural differences. When you kill us off, you kill yourselves. Especially since the Sudhraians steal women for slavery from beyond their borders on a regular basis. We are mixed thoroughly.” She tipped her chin at Anaisse. “Even she could have had a Nordanese mother.”
“Enough!” came the roar of a bass voice.
Everyone stilled. Rue looked over to see the Supreme standing at the head of the table, dressed in ermine robes. Long white hair trailed down his back in a queue secured at his nape. Bright blue eyes flashed from a face much older than Rue remembered it. He had a feeling it was more than mere age that caused the lines to crease his face.
The Supreme gave them all a lingering, hard stare—the stare of a patriarch reprimanding his children. He swept his robes beneath him and sat down with the aid of an attendant.
The Supreme sighed heavily before speaking. “It is true the Nordanese and the Sudhraians were a single people once, worshiping the Goddess Ariane and the God Anot in tandem. But the Goddess cursed us when we didn’t comply with her notion of how we should treat our women. They, the pagan Nordanese followed Ariane in some misled attempt to regain her favor. We forsook her and followed Anot. So, we are not one people any longer, girl.”
“That is untrue,” said Lilane calmly.
Anaisse gasped.
The Supreme raised a hand to quiet the shocked murmur that ran through all those within earshot. “This woman is Nordanese, and a captive, and therefore under a great deal of ill ease. We will allow her opinions to stand, though we do not share them.”
He looked pointedly at Lilane, who did not meet his gaze. “The Nordanese,” The Supreme said with a heavy look in his eyes, “are spilling quite enough blood on their own at the moment, young woman. There are no heroes in this war. There is only death and heartbreak.”
“The Sudhraians attacked first,” stated Lilane quietly.
“Silence!” commanded the Supreme. “I have allowed your opinions to stand thus far, but my patience grows thin.” He inspected the table, which the servants were adorning with bowls of rice and vegetables and plates of steaming meat. “Now, let’s eat.”
“Will you allow the insolent Nordanese to remain, Supreme?” drawled out Vant with a lazily confident look at Lilane.
“Yes.” He squinted at Lilane. “It is Anaisse’s wish that she dine with us.” He finished as though that was all that mattered.
Since the Supreme had not acknowledged him yet, Rue set about filling his plate as the others did. To steady his nerves after Lilane’s display, and his own uneasiness with the situation, he took a long, deep drink of wine.
“It is odd,” the Supreme said at last, “to have my old Sword Master upon my left and my new one upon my right.” The Supreme took a bite of meat and chewed it slowly, his eyes shrewdly observing Rue. “Why have you come back here, Lord Rue?”
Rue set his wine glass down, weighing his words out in his throat before freeing them. “I would only return for a very important reason. I think you, Supreme, understand this. I have spent many long months in Nordan where I resided in Marken’s Lorddom. As you know, Lord Marken is one of the most powerful leaders of that country, equaled perhaps only by Lord Gregor.”
Anaisse choked on her wine.
Vant took the goblet from her and placed a hand to her back. “Are you all right, my lady?”
She coughed and put a bejeweled hand to her chest. “I’m fine. I’m sorry to interrupt. Please go on, Lord Rue.”
“Lord Gregor and Lord Marken are in command of the Nordanese troops. They two alone direct their movements and design Nordan’s war strategies.” Rue took a leisurely sip of wine and replaced the goblet. He looked calmly, confidently at the Supreme. “And I spent much time with Marken. I convinced him I’d left Sudhra for good and wanted to aid Nordan. I gained his trust and his information. Need I say more?”
The Supreme set down his fork and grunted as though mulling Rue’s words. “It is intriguing enough for me to grant you a private audience.”
“Very good, Supreme. I don’t think you’ll be sorry.”
“I had better not be, Lord Rue,” stated the Supreme as he speared a chunk of meat on his plate.
* * * * *
Rue pressed his hand to the small of Lilane’s back and led her down the corridors toward their chamber. He moved quickly, wishing a safe sanctuary after the subtly barbed conversation they endured all through the banquet. “Did I mention you look spectacular this evening?”
“Four times, actually. Although I fail to see what’s so spectacular with such an elaborate illusion as this.” She made a sweeping gesture over her skirt. She fingered her girdle and winced. “And it’s painful. It’s like some subtle instrument of torture designed by men.”
She lowered her head. “I apologize about my behavior this evening, Rue.”
He shrugged. “I don’t believe they’ll think much of it. A new, untrained slave, which is what they believe you to be, can be unruly. That, coupled with the fact that they also believe you to be a Nordanese captive, makes your behavior somewhat plausible.”
“It was too much to have to sit there and listen to that Sudhraian rhetoric. Anyway, I really am a Nordanese captive, Rue. Remember the manacles? Remember the rope?”
His cock hardened at the mere mention of it. His voice lowered. “Yes, love, I remember.”
He spotted an alcove set into the wall and pulled her into it. She gasped as he pressed her against him, gripping her upper arms. He rubbed his lips over hers with agonizing slowness. “I remember all too well.” He ground his pelvis against her so she could feel exactly how he remembered it.
Lilane shuddered against him in a way that signaled her arousal. “I am truly lost, because the memory of it excites me, too.”
Footsteps sounded on the stone corridor beyond the alcove and Rue watched two nobles pass. They cast a long, curious look at Rue. “Come, love, let’s get back. This is not a Nordanese keep. If it were, I’d take you right here and now.” He pulled her from the alcove and got them quickly to their room.
Rue shut the door and Lilane fell against the wall, clawing at her girdle. “I’ll die if this doesn’t come off now!”
Rue pushed her gently against the wall, stilling her movement. He drew his hands to the small of her back. “I’ll die if it doesn’t come off right now, too,” he murmured, catching one her earlobes and drawing it into the recesses of his mouth. “Let’s get rid of these highly offensive articles of clothing, shall we?”
With deft, practiced fingers, he unlaced her girdle and dropped it. It made a tinkling sound when it hit the wooden floor.
“Oh, sweet
goddess.” Lilane’s chest expanded as she took a long draught of air.
Rue wasted no time in peeling her over and underdress from her, leaving her clad in her stockings, tiny white lace bustier and equally tiny white lace panties. He stood back and looked his fill. “Sweet god,” he breathed.
She set a hand on her hip and raised a brow. Her long hair hung loose and untamed around her. “You got all these complicated pieces of clothing off me easily, dark lord. Have you had much practice undressing noblewomen?” There was a teasing lilt to her voice.
Closing the distance between them in several footsteps, he twined an arm around her waist. He simply needed to touch her. “You’re the only one I want to undress from now on, and I don’t care what you wear, the dress of a noblewoman, peasant, or slave.”
She looked up at him with uncertainty in her eyes. “What do you mean, Rue?”
“I only want you.”
She pushed away from him and crossed to the bed, curling her hand around one of the posts. She kept her back to him and he couldn’t see her face. “But I will leave you once we’re in back in Nordan. What will you do then?” she asked quietly.
Rue stiffened. He’d been a fool to assume she’d share his love. Emotion swept through him. His heart was bared now and she could hurt him so easily with only words. No, he couldn’t live without her now.
He crossed to her and pressed his chest to her back. She sighed almost imperceptibly. He brushed her heavy hair away from her neck and laid a tender kiss there. “Maybe I won’t have to do anything. I have a little time to convince that you really don’t want to leave me.”
She turned toward him. “I want no secrets between us. I will want to leave, Rue.” Uncertainty sparkled in the depths of her green eyes. He seized on it and used it to salve the bruised part of his heart.
She looked down and away.
“We will see,” Rue answered. He tipped her chin up to get another glimpse of that uncertainty shimmering somewhere in the depths of her thoughts. She parted her lips as she looked up at him and lowered his mouth to take them in a soft kiss. No demands, no expectations. He merely needed to feel her mouth on his.
She returned his kiss with enthusiasm; rubbing her lips firmly over his and parting her lips to allow him to brand the inside of her mouth with his tongue.
She brought her hands up and smoothed them over his shoulders, then threaded her fingers as best she could through the short strands of the hair at his nape. His fingers strayed to the clasps at both side of her panties and undid them. The two small noises were like promises echoing through the room. Her lacy white panties dropped away, leaving her sex bare and vulnerable to his touch.
Lilane reached between them, undid the buttons of his trews, and pushed his pants down enough to free his shaft. “I need to feel you inside me,” she murmured as she stroked his hardening length.
She pushed him back a step and his calves hit the mattress. He sat down at her urging and she straddled him, guiding his cock into her pussy and sheathing him in her to the base of him. Their sighs of pleasures mingled.
Rue pushed her hair behind her shoulders, baring the lovely arch of her throat. He kissed her collarbone as she gently, slowly, began to ride him. “You see, my love, how much better we feel when joined? You and I are meant to be as one…in all ways, physically, spiritually, and mentally.”
“Shh….” She kissed his lips. “Just feel me now.”
Rue felt her.
Lilane rode him for a long time, drawing out their climax. Rue’s hands strayed over the silk stocking sheathing her long legs, and her lace bustier. He pulled her breasts out from the small cups that held them and ran his tongue over her nipples.
Finally, after Lilane had found her pleasure, he found his, and shouted her name when he came.
* * * * *
“Supreme.” Rue bowed and entered the Supreme’s private chambers.
He hadn’t been in these rooms since the night Sania had died. He’d been injured, both inside and out, and had bled all over the Supreme’s expensive imported carpets. Being here again made the memory fresh.
Rue looked down, concentrating on the new carpets that covered the floor—a rich design of royal blue, pale pinks and light yellows—and tried to control his emotions, regarding sharp memories of Sania’s death, Lilane, and not least the fact that if all went well, he’d betray the man who sat before him now.
“Something interesting down there, Lord Rue?” asked the Supreme.
Rue looked up. The Supreme sat in a polished wood chair, elaborately carved with prancing horses. “Forgive me.” He cleared his throat. “It’s a fetching pattern.”
“Apparently,” answered the Supreme. “Why don’t you come to your point, Lord Rue. I have just received ill news from our front and I have much to do.”
Rue stepped forward and a servant ushered him into a chair. “Sudhra is on the defensive,” Rue stated. He suspected strongly that was the case.
The Supreme nodded. “Yes. They’ve pushed us back past our borders and are currently in the process of trying to take Madsine Priestdom. We need to draw up new strategic plans.” The Supreme’s face grew suddenly gray. “We never thought we’d end up defending our own priestdoms from them.”
“You underestimated them. You poked a sleeping dog with a stick and now they’re biting.” Rue nodded slightly. “You realize this is to the death. The Nordanese know well they cannot simply push you back beyond your borders. They’ll try and take the country now. You’ve given them no choice.”
Arrogance overtook the older man’s features. “We will turn the tide, Lord Rue. There is no possible way those pagans will take mighty Sudhra down.”
Rue saw the future in the Supreme’s words. Sudhra would fall because of the country’s shortsighted pride. What Rue attempted to do for his people in betraying the Sudhraians would hasten that fall. But if he chose to cease his treacherous errand now, Sudhra would still likely fall.
A weight lifted from Rue’s shoulders.
“Please, come to your point, Lord Rue,” the Supreme said exhaustedly.
“All right. I have detailed information regarding Nordan’s military strategy. I know how they will move through the country, which priestdoms they will attack and in what order. With my aid, you can anticipate their moves.”
The Supreme sat forward, a smile overtaking his mouth. “Then let’s talk.”
Chapter Eight
Lilane kicked the blanket away and sighed. The nights had grown progressively hotter over the season, as though building for a climax. In the month that had passed since Rue’s first meeting with the Supreme, she’d embroidered at least twenty shirts and learned to weave intricate patterns in rugs and blankets under the patient tutelage of Lady Anaisse.
Because of Rue’s insistence Lilane not be given to other men as an ordinary sex slave, she had not been treated as one. Instead, the daughter of the Supreme had bid Lilane spend her days in the lady’s solar, learning all the things Sudhraian ladies learned.
Lilane had detested every single moment of it, but had endured it all with a smile. The only way she could’ve borne the last month in the Supreme’s Priestdom was because she knew well that Rue was working hard to bring about an end to the war with Nordan as the victor.
It was costing her a lot, however, and not just in hits to her Nordanese pride and her bloody, needle-pricked fingers. Rue was gone constantly from her, always at the side of the Supreme.
And she missed his presence greatly.
Lilane rolled over and buried her head into her pillow. The beat of her heart was amplified in her ears and she felt Rue’s presence at her back, hot and arousing. He’d come back to the chamber late that evening, as he had for many evenings, after the conclusions of late meetings with the Supreme and his advisors. Rue had successfully earned the ruler’s trust.
She’d heard the Nordanese had breached the Sudhraian border and caused the retreat of their aggressor enemies to the south. They made their way
ever south, to the Supreme Priestdom. It was the winning piece, the one they had to capture, in this game of bloodshed and strategy. The last news she’d heard placed them north of the Supreme Priestdom, stalled out in deadlocked battle with the Sudhraians.
Lilane stood and looked down at Rue. In the wan light cast from the open window and silver starshine streaming within, she saw his chest rise and fall with the breath of slumber.
She feigned sleep when he’d come in that evening and he’d watched her as she watched him now. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he’d brushed the hair away from her brow and from where it lay heavy against her collarbone. It had been a gesture full of love and it had made her eyes grow wet with tears beneath her closed eyelids.
Damn him. She loved him back.
She stalked to the open window and stood before it, letting the slight breeze blowing in bathe her warm skin. Her very sleeping gown clung to her flesh. She closed her eyes and sniffed the air. The slightest tang of dying leaves wafted on the wind—the trademark scent of cool, fresh autumn when everything grew ready for a long-needed rest. Hopefully the dogs of war would also be ready to lie down and sleep.
Lilane opened her eyes and stared hard at the star-strewn sky above. By autumn hopefully she’d be gone from Rue. She couldn’t stay with him. The man was far, far too dangerous. Too easily able to wound her so badly she’d never recover.
Warm hands clasped her shoulders and startled her. Lips brushed her neck and laid a kiss. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
Lilane’s throat clogged up. “It…it’s all right,” she answered.
“Can’t you sleep?”
She shook her head.
“Nightmares again?”
“No. It’s hot.” She laughed, short and nervously. “It’s too hot to sleep.”
“The air feels heavy and slightly violent. Now it is the time for late summer storms. I think we are in for a bad one. “
“It will cool things down, maybe even be a harbinger of autumn.”
“Perhaps.” He laid a kiss to her shoulder and her body stirred. She closed her eyes and sighed. “I will be leaving in the morning,” he said against her skin.