Amlet might even manipulate Violet’s sale. Not to help the lass, but to dispose of her quickly. Fortunately, Violet didn’t realize she had the power to become a rival sorceress if she slipped into shadows. Equally as providential, Violet didn’t know that mated to the right mage she had the potential to raise a child of light that could destroy Amlet’s master. If she had her way, Amlet would have destroyed the girl long ago, but the Dark Master had hopes of drawing her into shadow. Amlet would not allow that. She would have no rival, but she had to be careful that the Master did not know she had a hand in Violet’s demise.
A clang sounded. Silence, still and dark as a moonless night, devoured the chamber as the first lass stepped into the cage that was lowered to the plank.
* * * *
Lord Ash, attired in a similar leather outfit from a few nights hence, settled into his box. A fresh charm window could be activated to display the various wares. Ash found the purchase of a wife archaic, despite its expediency. Still, if clan and friends hadn’t been so persistent in prodding him toward this endeavor, he would have put it off yet again. Exploring the craft had absorbed every moment of his thoughts and quite a few of his dreams. He didn’t have time for a wife or family, but such was the way of the kingdom and he could no longer evade his responsibility. Besides, there was one out there that claimed his heart, one he didn’t really know, but yet felt such an intense connection to, that he knew her to be real. Months had bled into years and he never even came close to finding the lass and had finally given up. Now, he had obligations to fulfill and would stop thinking about the dream. It was time.
Using the charm window he flashed through the merchandise, wincing at what the Seraglio considered attributes. Finally, he came to Violet Haze and couldn’t help grinning at her record. The eunuchs certainly earned their coin with this one. She was a handful and obviously didn’t want to be a wife. He could purchase her and set her free. Wouldn’t that stir the Seraglio and his own clan to a frothy rage? If he had the time to deal with the consequences, he would do so just for the fun of it. He didn’t have such leisure and decided to spend his coin on the pretty, submissive Amlet. One who’d just do her duty and remain in the background. The more she bored him, the more dedicated he’d become to the craft, and the more time he’d have for dreaming.
A loud bong claimed his attention as the first lass exited her cage. Her hand-made white satin gown dipped over sun-bronzed shoulders, gathered under small but firm breasts, and then trailed to delicate slipper-covered feet. A touch of face enhancement had been applied and sweet breaths, a tiny white flower, had been braided into her lengthy chestnut colored hair. Each lass made her own garment to prove she could clothe her family if the need ever arose. The bronzed skin and face adornments proved she would always look her best.
A trained voice emerged, announcing her name, talents and submissive rank of ten, the highest level of attainment. A simple dance and a demonstration of her craft followed. She plucked a rose out of the air along with a tiny shower of glitter to dust the pink petals. It was a simple spell, proving she could be a capable assistant yet not powerful enough to surpass her husband. No master of either shadow or sun wanted to battle his own spouse for domination of the craft.
"The bidding begins at one-hundred thousand gold coin," announced Venore, the acoustics of the chamber amplifying his voice to cut through the muted chatter slithering among the patrons.
Several novice mages emerged from their box seats to view the lass closely. A few returned without bidding, but a volley of warring bids emerged in loud, excited voices until the lass sold for triple the amount. The older caste members knew better than to bid on the first batch, for the Seraglio reserved the finest for last. However, novice conjurers and mages didn’t have the finances to wait regardless of their caste’s wealth. They were only to bring in coin that they themselves had accumulated. Of course, many families helped their offspring earn their coin.
After the tenth lass, similarly attired, performed an almost identical dance and demonstrated the same spell, Ash decided to place a bid on the very next girl and not bother waiting for Amlet. He wanted to be done with it. They were all replicas of each other--different hair color and complexions, slightly different movements, shapes and stances--but so much the same that it didn’t matter who he chose.
Only the next lass happened to be Violet. Unlike the others, she didn’t wear white, nor did she wear a gown. A silk amethyst colored top hugged her breasts while low-slung pants with transparent, billowing legs matched the sheer fluttering sleeves of her blouse, both pinched at wrists and ankles with golden braids. A satin ribbon caught the wealth of her hair and simple cloth slippers adorned tiny feet. The cascade of hushed whispers halted.
A mischievous smile appeared on the lass’s delicately etched countenance. Not a shred of face enhancement had been applied. Her flesh remained free of sun bronzing and there was nothing submissive about her stance.
"I am Violet Haze," her tiny voice proclaimed. "My greatest talent resides in the ability to run like the wind and escape the confines of any imprisonment. My obedience level," a sweet, totally impish laugh emerged, "is a minus one."
A collective gasp filtered through the hall, yet a few chuckles could be heard as well. Lord Ash shook his head and laughed aloud. Venore looked as if someone had just punched the wind out of him.
"Now, I suppose you expect me to dance for your enjoyment? I think not," she proclaimed, her sweet, angelic sounding voice so in opposition to her statement.
Instead of a dance, she performed a feat of warrior patterns, ones that proved she could defend herself well if the need arose. She did everything she could to offend and deter any from wanting her as a wife, but all she managed was to entice those bent on breaking a lass’s spirit.
Lord Ash no longer laughed. Fear prompted a cold sweat. The lass couldn’t possibly know the element she attracted with her willfulness. Ash couldn’t allow her to flounder in her own stupidity. Ignoring stringent rules, he wove a spell to still the girl’s obstinate nature. It unraveled and evaporated. To his astonishment, the girl had a spell protector in place.
That wasn’t the only surprise. She slipped right into demonstrating her craft. Unlike the single rose most of the other girls produced, an array of various wild flowers rained upon the entire length of the plank. Glitter didn’t follow either. Twin rocks thumped to the plank. Her voice became husky. Her pupils widened until they nearly covered the irises. Thunder echoed through the hall, glasses rattled, torchlight dimmed. The rocks blurred and a white vapor appeared. Through the mist, loud roars could be heard. As the fog evaporated, snarling lions emerged, clawing the air.
"Be still," she ordered, and they obeyed. With determined steps she walked down the plank toward the nearest box seat, fingers freeing her locks as she moved. A conjurer jumped up at her approach, and she stilled him with a wave of her hand, freed his dagger from its sheath, and severed the length of her tresses. The remaining locks layered themselves to her shoulders, rendering an even more enticing and mature visage to the lass. Before anyone could react, she returned the dagger and strode back to the lions that prowled the plank like sentinels. Her severed locks twisted in the air as gentle words spilled from lush lips. Braided leashes appeared and attached themselves to the lions’ throats. She gathered the ends in her hands and brought the animals to heel.
No one moved. No one spoke. Not a breath could be heard. Everything remained still until Violet released the leashes and clapped her hands. The lions disappeared. The torchlight brightened.
"Not one of you will purchase me now. Your choice is to either kill me or release me. Either way I will be free."
* * * *
From her vantage point Amlet grinned. She didn’t have to aid Violet one iota toward her destruction. The girl did a fine job on her own leaving Amlet liberated to contemplate which of the two most valued alliances would be best. She could wed a shadow lord and spawn a demon that would bring a reign of dark
ness or she could choose the purest sun mage and corrupt him and his caste until only the Dark Master reigned. Either one would be a challenge, starting with manipulating their bids, but she was more than up to it.
As she contemplated her options, she stepped into the cage waiting to be lowered to the plank after Venore slit Violet’s throat. After her display, the eunuch had no other option.
Amlet didn’t expect the pandemonium that broke out beneath her. She didn’t expect the ensuing bidding war. Mostly, she didn’t expect Violet to be purchased by one of the two lords she had intended for herself.
"No!" Violet screamed from the plank, attempting to run from the hall. An enormous eunuch snatched her up and tossed her easily back on the plank. She attempted to grab his sword by using levitation, but too many of the craft joined, broke her protection spell, and bound her with astonishing ease. She would have summoned the lions back. Only, they were nothing more than illusion and all knew it. "No," she uttered with such helplessness it touched more hearts than she would have ever suspected.
After dropping the appropriate coin in Venore’s open palm Lord Darth knelt beside her his voice soft, coaxing. "Hush, child, it will be all right. I promise."
Violet lifted her gaze to the most mesmerizing eyes she ever saw. Clear and blue, it was as if she could see right through to his soul. A mage had purchased her, not the dark lord the Seraglio had thought she should serve. She had been prepared for death, and now to discover she would once again live in the light was more than she could have ever imagined. Only, she couldn’t imagine why he would want such a defiant being as her.
He grinned and responded as if reading her mind. "Talent like yours should be honed, not wasted. Now, if I free you, will you behave?"
She nodded affirmation and found she could move again. Darth helped her up, and then in the tradition of the hall, tossed her fragile weight over his shoulders and strode toward the door. Violet glanced up once and saw a man being held back by two eunuchs.
"She is mine!" he shouted. "I gave the final bid. Darth silenced it! Let me go."
There was something about him that tugged at her, something familiar and warm. Yet, it was obvious he belonged to the dark caste. Unlike the lord who purchased her, donned in shades of ecru, that man wore unrelenting black. Even the hilt of his sword and stiletto were made of obsidian. Oh how very close she came to being his and living a life in darkness, a short life to be sure, knowing what those of that breed did to their wives.
At that moment, his gaze met hers. Such anguish and appeal seeped from them, such magnetism that she felt drawn, as she had never felt drawn to anyone before. It took every ounce of her will to sever his hold. She buried her face against Lord Darth and willed herself not to look back.
"Violet, look at me!" the stranger shouted. "Don’t be deceived."
Violet didn’t obey. She just clung to her owner, knowing that a single visit to the nuptial chamber would make her his wife.
Darth felt the tension ease out of Violet. Darkness invaded his cool blue gaze, turning it back to ebony as a half-grin twisted his lips.
Chapter Four
"Where are you going?" Daniore asked, a large palm gripping Ash’s arm to stop him from mounting a stallion.
"Where in blazes do you think?" he snapped back, ignoring the bustling about him. Lords carried their purchases to ornate carriages while commoners gawked from the other side of guarded barriers and vendors plied all with food and drinks.
"You owe it to your father to get back in there and purchase a wife."
"I owe it to my conscience to get that lass out of Darth’s clutches."
"I’ll go after her."
"No! She is my responsibility."
Daniore folded his arms across his massive chest and leaned back on his heels. "And just how is that?"
"I should have realized someone like him would play dirty. I should have had protection about me. Even that snip of a girl had protection about her until the dark lords combined strength to break it." Ash squeezed his eyes shut. "I had the last bid."
"None heard it?"
"Darth prevented anyone from hearing it."
"I believe that, but rumor has it she got what she deserved and had been prepared for death."
"Death, aye, not this, not living with the darkest of the shadow lords. Don’t you get it? Because of her record, and her talent, they had groomed her for such as him. She knew it, and preferred death. Why else such an outlandish display?"
Daniore cocked a brow. "Was it really that outrageous?"
Ash couldn’t help a smile. "Venore looked like he got prodded by a hot poker. I’ve never seen anything like it, never seen such fire, such spirit, such audacity. Daniore, I wanted her. I never wanted anyone more except…."
He sucked in a breath, and then released it, slowly. "Doesn’t matter. I can’t wed a fantasy."
"You’re still having that dream? Still think you can find the girl?"
"Aye, the dream is a constant. The girl isn’t real. I know that now," Ash admitted. "But even if I didn’t want Violet, I would have bid on her. Darth won’t just torture her--he’ll break her and then capture her soul. I can’t allow that."
"I--" Daniore began, only to be cut off.
"The other night I could have taken her, deprived the Seraglio of their coin and wed her like any commoner taking a bride. But I didn’t act on the impulse. I didn’t act on what was right. Instead, all I could think about was my precious craft and becoming a mage beyond any other. It was the only way I could…." He paused, redirected his thoughts. "That emotion is worthy of any dark lord. Those of the sun put people above all else. I didn’t and now that innocent child will suffer for it."
"With talent like hers, Ash, she might not be so innocent."
"Again, you don’t see. For one of her age to have such talent, she has to be thoroughly pure. Her illusions reeked of it. One of a dark line wouldn’t have tamed the beasts, they would have unleashed them."
Daniore nodded and smacked Ash on the back. "What are we waiting for? Let’s go and snatch that little one right from under Darth’s nose."
* * * *
Amlet smiled her sweetest smile at Lord Slith as he climbed on top of her, plunging in to her moist depths with ravenous hunger. She gave into the lust with as much vigor and intensity as the lord, shocking him with her experience and expertise. In the aftermath of her failed plan, Amlet needed to expend her rage and allowed the dark, inexperienced lord to wed her, knowing neither clan nor caste would miss him. She couldn’t believe Violet managed to ensnare both lords! She was more of a hindrance than Amlet ever suspected.
Renewed rage climbed through Amlet and she exhausted it on the naïve lord. Hours later, finally spent, she pushed his dead body off of her. She had used him so well and long, that the young conjurer’s heart gave way.
"Well, at least you died in the pursuit of pleasure," she quipped as her spirit fled the host body.
Cora soul, finally free from Amlet’s control, collapsed in a comatose heap. The girl would remain thus for the remainder of her life.
Amlet didn’t even look back as she sought a fresh body, one with access to Darth and Violet. Soon enough Darth would see the girl’s true potential as not just a spirit to feed upon, but as a sorceress in her own right to be nurtured and offered to the Dark Master. Amlet had to prevent that. By all that was unholy, she had to destroy Violet and mate with either Darth or Ash.
Either one would do. It was the only way to bring about the fall of light, and she had to do it soon or the Master would notice her disobedience. If he knew she had spent all her time following her own agenda rather than adhering to his orders to manipulate the nuptials for the dark side’s advantage, he’d toss her into the ninth level of Hell. Amlet knew the only way to ensure an eternity of comfort was to prove her worth. Any second rank demon could fiddle with the nuptials. Such sorcery was beneath her skill. The Master was wasting her talent, and she just wouldn’t have it!
A p
lan formed in her depraved mind, and with a gleeful cackle she sought the most appropriate host.
* * * *
Exhausted beyond comprehension, Violet didn’t know when they arrived at the inn, or when she had been placed in a tub. She only felt the hushed lap of water, the distant trill of twilight birds, the caress of being sponged free of the day’s dirt. She tried to drag herself out of slumber, but something told her it was a spell to keep her still and compliant. She wasn’t the first lass to be taken to the closest inn to seal the nuptials as quickly as possible. It was a blessing Darth chose one that provided such luxury. Still, an innate embarrassment at being scrubbed by a stranger crawled through her. Even more, she hated the paralyzing effects of the spell. She struggled within herself, but her body remained limp.
Tired of the struggle, she surrendered to the warmth and comfort. With her will estranged, the dream erupted. She still couldn’t make out her lover, but it was the same chamber, the same bed. Only this time, his hands were already on her, tracing fingers along her length with possessive exploration. His kisses held desperation as did her own. Would this be the last time she’d be with him? Would being married chase away the phantom lover? Tears spilled into the kiss. She tasted the saltiness as her hands roamed over sinewy muscles. She knew this body so well. She knew every crevice, dimple and scar.
"Don’t leave me," she uttered, tearing at his shirt to plant kisses along his collarbone. She who had never been kissed in reality, who reddened every time the eunuchs stripped her for punishment, found herself eager and bold within the dream. Not an ounce of shame plagued her. How could it? She knew this charmer forever. As a child, he’d filled her dreams with harmless adventures and playtime. As she grew he taught her potions and spells, thoughts of philosophy and truths about the One. When sensual heat erupted, he taught her love, not physical but that of the heart and spirit. Then he claimed her, took her as his wife as surely as if he had attended nuptials and purchased her. He taught her the delight of fingers and lips and tongue. Whispered the delights of her heart. Showed her how spirit and body could cling with a love beyond time.
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