The Long Road to Karn (Realm of Arkon, Book 5)

by Akella, G.

  "Daressa Valtar," the young woman introduced herself, sizing me down appraisingly. "You mentioned there's been a new ruler in Rualt?"

  "Krian, Prince of Craedia," I nodded politely. "Aye, there is."

  "Would you mind telling me how it happened? Master Ritter and Lord Astarot will demand a thorough report given the significance of this change, and I—"

  "Wait!" Ar-Iraz cut her off, then turned to his two tiflings who were dutifully playing the role of pillars of salt. "Cancel deployment to Saer! Instead, I want three centuries deployed to border outposts. Aerk, inform Griss to increase patrols in Laketa and on the border threefold until I return. Daggor, you're in charge. You've heard everything—I trust you to make the right decisions. That'll be all. Dismissed!"

  After the tribunes withdrew, Ar-Iraz shifted his gaze to the tiflingess.

  "You can speak freely, Valtar. The prince knows the lord and Prince Ritter personally. And you needn't probe for information—he will share whatever he wishes to share. So, Krian," he looked at me. "I admit that I'm dying to hear the whole story." Removing his helm from the bench, the prince gestured invitingly toward the sofa. "We have half an hour, so let's make good use of it. Daressa doesn't drink on the job, but from what I remember, brother, you favor cognac?"

  Chapter 10

  Gloom was fast asleep. And judging by the broken pieces of the tethering post sticking out from under his massive carcass, sleep had caught my four-legged friend unawares. I'd always been envious of some people's ability to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Sure, my boar wasn't a person, and neither was Aritor, for that matter, but the two of them certainly shared that particular talent. As an artist, perfection had always evoked awe in me. And it didn't matter where or how it manifested—in the brilliant mind of a scientist, the vibrant liveliness of a painting, or absolute idiocy... Perfection had many facets. Of course, Aritor's sleeping patterns had shifted with Zara's appearance in his life, leaving Gloom all by his lonesome.

  Squatting next to the slumbering boar, I gave his ear a light pull. No response. If suddenly I found myself in danger, the muck-covered beast would be up on his feet in an instant! But, alas, there was no sign of danger, which meant I'd need to entreat the boar as if he were a capricious noblewoman.

  I looked around meditatively. Some twenty yards to my right four demons were putting up an awning; nearby, a dozen or so little demons in quality clothing and wielding wooden swords—the children of the local soldiers, presumably—were taking a break from their game to stare in our direction with unabashed curiosity. No, these wouldn't qualify as danger. Entreating it was, then. Of course, I could just order the razorback to get up, but doing so would be both a swinish trick on my part and a violation of an unwritten rule that governed this game between the two of us. Life sure was a curious thing—in the old world I would never dare approach a sleeping black giant with fifteen-inch tusks, but here I was now, squatting next to one and pulling on his ears...

  "I will wait for you by the stables, prince," Keral—the personal secretary to Ar-Iraz, whom the ruler had assigned as my escort—said in a bassy voice.

  My account of what happened in Rualt hadn't taken more than twenty minutes. Naturally, I hadn't said a word about Jaelitte or anything pertaining to her story, professing instead that Yllial had offered me the province so as to also gain control over my princedom. The version had the advantage of being technically true—the lord had indeed wanted to have his cake and eat it too. There were no questions about the battle itself—and why would there be? A kill was a kill, regardless of how it happened. As for Craedia, I was fairly brief there as well: I came, I rescued the captives and brought them into the fold, I captured the citadel. Both Ar-Iraz and the girl were pressed for time, as their presence was urgently required in Saer—a city on the border with Alcatta, where the dominion's lord was gathering forces to take the fight to the rebels. The prince flat-out refused to entertain the idea of me staying at an inn, and had his secretary put me up in the "Beige Chambers" with the assurance that I would be very happy there. The secretary was then assigned the dubious task of being my escort during my stay. The demon was curiously incapable of speaking in a subdued tone, though I'd been wrong to dub him the knight of quill and inkwell, as the small triangle on his right cheekbone marked him as a member of the Order of Punishing Steel. But hey, it wasn't my fault that the way he sat in the reception area, you could only see the left side of his face! The same mark was present on the face of the commander of the getare squad that had escorted me to Irstad once... Hart, but that seemed like a lifetime ago!

  "Enough already, Gloom! Get up!" I gave the boar's ear a harder pull. The swine half-opened one eye, gave a loud exhale, and turned over onto his back with nimbleness inconceivable for his frame.

  "That's some chutzpah, kiddo," I shook my head, barely holding back laughter as those hoofs kicked the air. "If you think I'll be scratching your belly next, guess again! Up, up, up!"

  I got up, dusted off my hands, and made for the legions' stables. There came an indignant snorting at my back as the boar scrambled to his feet, destroying whatever remains there were of the tethering post, and trotted after me, puffing his displeasure.

  The stables—an elongated standalone single-story structure with a triangular red roof behind a low enclosure—were located to the right of the main citadel building, and enclosed by a low fence. Even calling these structures "stables" was a real stretch, seeing as Ar-Iraz's getare rode lizards, elves rode elks, and orcs rode wargs... But how else, pray tell, would you refer to a building in which all these different animals were tended to? Perhaps eventually new location-specific terms would be conceived, but for now it was easier to use the old-fashioned one.

  Keral was just outside the open doors, speaking with a tall fair-haired tifling. Dar Kross, Ar-Iraz's head groom, looked to be about fifty. With high cheekbones and a square jaw, I'd take him for a person of Asian extraction. Except he wasn't a person, but a demon with horns and a tail! For a moment my mind went off on a tangent, picturing what an Asian-demon offpspring might look like, before snapping in reprimand of my overactive imagination. Focus on the business at hand, Roman! There's plenty to occupy your mind without all this immaterial nonsense!

  "Good day, dar!" I greeted the tifling, who couldn't yet see me with his back turned.

  The groom turned around and nodded, though his eyes weren't on me, but on the enormous perplexity behind me.

  "Prince. Uh..."

  "He got a little soiled," I shrugged. "I blame the rain."

  Judging by his face, the coat of grime on my razorback was the least of the groom's concerns. In fact, he looked as if he'd never seen a razorback in his life.

  "How's his temperament?" the tifling inquired softly, his eyes still fixed on Gloom.

  "Oh, he's a sweetheart! Quiet as a mouse!" I rushed to assure him, nodding eagerly for emphasis. Too eagerly, probably, seeing as Dar Kross still appeared very much unconvinced. At that point, sensing that the conversation was about him, Gloom grunted something in his own boar tongue, ostensibly in support of my words. The tifling winced at the sound, then frowned and sighed with resignation.

  "Bring him in..."

  The quarters allocated to me by Ar-Iraz featured mostly beige and magenta tones. The enormous bed in the center had a high headboard and was framed by two spiral columns on either side, bolstering the illusion of grandness. With multitudes of movable screens, semi-transparent partitions, monograms in the shape of sea waves or fanciful seashells, and hand-carved pieces of furniture, the space seemed completely devoid of straight lines. So complete was the domination of smooth and curvaceous lines in furniture and decor that you felt as if you were transported back in time into the royal quarters of Louis XIV. Over by the far wall was a massive fireplace with a decorative sand glass; in the corner stood a grand piano—or something resembling one; right of the bed stretched an enormous marble bathtub that looked more like a mini pool, boasting golden faucets and a magenta p
attern running the length of it. Hart! I was scared to step foot in here, let alone spend the night! I looked down at my filthy boots and sighed. What a favor this was on the prince's part! What had possessed me to even bring up the inn? Argh!... Then again, why the hell not?! I was a prince now, after all, so what was wrong with a little luxury? I resolved to commission a similar lodging for myself upon my return to Craedia—maybe even several!

  I rounded the pool warily, wondering if it might fit Gloom, then set to examining the art on the walls. Nine out of the ten canvases looked suspiciously like Ivo Saliger's paintings. In fact, I was pretty sure they were those very paintings, with the designer simply adapting them to the local realities, like replacing human women with demonesses. Diana's Rest, Harmony, Leda and the Swan—I remembered these paintings by last century's German artist quite well. Not that I needed images of buck-naked women on the walls—was this why the prince was so sure I'd like it here?

  "Keral, don't you find that this painting doesn't quite fit in with the rest?" I gestured to my escort, standing perfectly still in the doorway, at the gold-framed canvas depicting a young man against a rural background. The youth was sitting, leaning back against a sprawling tree while playing a musical instrument on his lap. Grazing nearby was a small herd of yaks, their heads all turned to the musician.

  "This painting belongs to Paltas, our prince's grandfather and an artist renowned throughout all of Alcmehn," explained the legionnaire. "People say it can predict the future..."

  "Oh? Any specific reports of successful predictions?" I turned to meet the secretary's eyes.

  "No," he shook his head. "At least none that I heard of. I suppose that's why it hangs here and not in some secret vault..." He was silent for a few moments, then continued. "May I go now, prince? You can always send for me—just let any of the servants know."

  "Yes, of course, go. And thanks."

  I waited for my escort to depart before taking another look around my mansion, then began to remove my armor. It didn't feel right to walk around all this splendor clad in plate.

  Here's the plan, I said to myself. First I bathe, then I find something to eat. After that, I allocate talents and check out the bounty from the two slain bosses. In that order—just as it was when I'd first started here.

  A bell rang from the entrance. I turned my head to the sound and chuckled.

  Moving aside the heavy magenta curtain, three young women carrying trays literally flowed into the room. Succubi. A redhead, a brunette and a blonde. They looked absolutely stunning: short skirts, stockings, elegant heels...

  Each of them smiled and gave a friendly nod, and within three minutes the small table in the corner of the room was served.

  "I'm Arimma," the black-haired one said once finished. "That's Atta and Irana. Our master sent us here to be at your disposal, prince—and ordered to fulfill your every wish. Shall we wait until you've eaten?"

  Damn! Now this was why Ar-Iraz was so confident I'd like it here! The pool in the middle of the space, the bed that could fit a dozen mounted getare, and these here ladies. I was anything but a Puritan and would have eagerly taken them up on their offer, but messing around with three concubines with your spouse watching your every move... That just wasn't my kind of kink. If you could even call it a kink. Knowing her, she might give me tips! As much as I loved women, I wasn't prepared to suffer such indignities...

  "Forgive me, ladies," I replied sorrowfully. "I'm too exhausted, and there's still work to be done. I doubt anything is going to happen today."

  "That's a shame," the blonde sighed. "If you change your mind, simply pull on that string on the wall, and we'll be with you within three minutes."

  Then all three women smiled again, and started toward the exit, swaying their hips most alluringly. Once at the door, the brunette turned around, winked and licked her ruby-red lips with the tip of her tongue. Ugh!

  Are you sure you don't suffer from impotence, dear? I heard Jaelitte's sarcastic voice. No worries if you do—I'll fix that right up.

  I really do need to work, I tried to justify my decision, though I had to admit the excuse sounded hollow and unconvincing. She merely chuckled in return, so I gave a frustrated wave of the hand, and headed toward the table.

  I had absolutely no appetite for some reason. Forcing down a few meat sandwiches, I turned the faucet on in the pool—if there was one thing I could definitely use, it was washing off the blood and grime of the past few days.

  The water level rose pretty quickly, whereupon I climbed into the pool and closed my eyes blissfully, feeling like a Persian shah. There would still be time to bathe properly—for now all I wanted was to relish this rare moment of pleasure, which brought back old childhood memories splashing in the sea. The warm water felt great on the skin, bolstered by the magnificent and harmonious ambiance of the space—I could just soak here for hours...

  I forgot to thank you, warrior, the words susurrated in my head. Twice today I was preparing to pass into Primordial Chaos, but didn't. Either it favors you this much or it still has some use for me...

  Come, now, you're my wife, I mumbled, taken aback by such talk from her. Wives ought to be protected and lavished with presents.

  Jaelitte gave a soft laugh.

  Presents... presents are good. You're weary, my husband, and there are still many hardships ahead... Relax, darling, and trust in me—it's my turn to give you a present...

  But you can't do anything now... I started to say. Oh, sure, go ahead, let's see your present...

  The lamps in the chamber flashed, taking shape of dancing naked demonesses. The illumination darkened. The reflections of the dancers in the water's surface were mesmerizing. The water in the pool began to fizz with pink bubbles, and then... Through some incredible trick, the three succubi Ar-Iraz had assigned for "services" materialized in front of me, smiling seductively. A soft music began to play, and the air became scented with intoxicating fragrances—even the women on the paintings seemed to look down on what was happening with approval and light envy... So surreal were the sensations I was experiencing that at a certain point I decided that I must be sleeping... The bare female bodies kept swaying, their touch permeating every fiber of my flesh, coalescing into the most hellish bliss...

  I awoke in the morning in the same giant bed; moreover, by the looks of it, you would think that no less than a full century of getare had been riding it all night. I felt fully rested, as though having slept several days straight, and awfully hungry as well. Ignoring proper royal etiquette, I hopped off the bed and walked over to the table barefoot, grabbing the first thing I saw, which turned out to be roasted lamb shank, and sunk my teeth into the cold meat. So intense was the sensation of pleasure, it was as if I hadn't eaten anything but stale bread for the past decade.

  "Hart!" I growled as my brain was finally starting to wake. "Why did you do all that?"

  Did you not like it, dear? my bride gave a smirk. You really were exhausted by the events of the past days—you needed the rest.

  But how? I froze, clutching the lamb shank while staring into emptiness. You're still—

  First, you've already returned a fragment of my soul. Second, these lower ones didn't even require any manipulating...

  But you were manipulating me!

  Not at all, Jaelitte smirked again. I was merely the conduit of your desires, no more. You needed a woman, and that's what you got...

  A bell rang at the door, and Arimma walked into the room—the same raven-haired succubus from last night.

  "Your breakfast, master," she bowed real low, then turned gingerly toward the door, and gave a soft squeak. "May I go now?"

  "Yes, of course. Thanks for last night by the way—to you and your girlfriends."

  A strange expression on torment flickered on her face, and she backed out of the room without another word.

  What's with her? I asked Jaelitte, pushing the table toward the bed.

  Well, how do I put this... my bride's voice dripped wi
th irony. When you initially refused the prince's present, I really did consider that you have certain problems in the bedroom, whether you're with women or men.

  Women! I exclaimed with exasperation. I like women!

  We demons aren't so rigid about those things, you know, but so be it, she didn't argue. Anyway, suspecting that you may have some issues you'd be ashamed to openly admit, I, uh... she hesitated for a moment. Well, I gave you a bit of a 'boost' of male virility...

  Of what?! I literally chocked on a piece of lamb, and had to gulp down a whole glass of wine to wash it down.

  Male virility, Jaelitte repeated with the tone of a schoolmistress explaining to a repeater that two times two was neither five nor eight.

  Are you out of your freaking mind, woman? Have I ordered you to do this? Or asked?! I was enraged, and it was a good thing my wife wasn't here physically to test my self-restraint.

  Our agreement wasn't broken! There were notes of resentment in her voice. You've called me your wife, so explain to me, my illustrious husband, how do you plan on bedding an Elder Demon? Or do you want your wife to remain a virgin for a million years?!

  But—

  No buts! She cut me off. Have you seen my mother in her combat form? Coition in combat form is... spectacular. What you experienced last night is child's play by comparison.

  All right! Enough! I broke out my pipe and took several deep drags, trying to think clearly. How much of this 'virility' have you injected into me?

  Now that's a constructive approach, my wife laughed softly. You're still weak, so not much.