“What do you wish for me to tell her, Your Grace?”
“I didn’t say I was sending you,” Konan said with a frown. “Do you remember where you were just an hour ago?”
Leksi shrugged. “Aye, but that was an hour ago and before I had gained the strength of ten men.”
“And the arrogance of them as well,” Kynthia mumbled.
“What do you think, wench?” Konan asked, turning to her. “Do you think we can trust them not to lop off his head?”
“I’ll go with him,” Kynthia declared. “That way I know he’ll be safe.”
“What of me, then?” the Lord High Commander asked.
“Queen Mona and the Amazeen queens have warrioresses on their way at this very moment. Stay here and intercept them but make sure they are ranged along this rise so Queen Clea will see we mean business.”
“Good thinking, wench,” Leksi said. “A show of force can only seal the deal.”
“I’d like to see the faces of those who captured us when they see you riding back in,” Konan said.
“They won’t see him returning any more than they saw us leaving,” Kynthia reminded Krull. “Until we are in Queen Clea’s presence, I don’t think it wise to let her warriors know we are there.”
“Another good point,” Konan agreed. “Perhaps I should commission you with the Venturian Forces, milady.”
“Kratos would like that,” Leksi chuckled.
“It’s a good thing that handsome soldier wasn’t with you when the two of you were captured,” Kynthia said. “They would have killed him.”
“Handsome?” Konan repeated, his brows lifted.
“She thinks so,” Leksi replied.
“Aye, well, he is,” Kynthia stated. She jerked on the reins and turned her mount toward the path down from the rise. “You coming, warrior?”
Konan and Leksi smiled in unison as they watched the young woman’s rear shifting from side-to-side as the horse made its way down the path.
“You’ve got your hands full there, Helios,” Konan said.
“Aye, Your Grace, and what a handful that arse is going to be!” Leksi concurred then put his heels to his stallion’s flanks.
Konan crossed his hands over the pommel and leaned forward, watching the two as they made their way down to the road that led to Nebul. Behind him, he heard the pounding of hooves and when he turned his head, he saw the personal standard of Queen Mona of the Daughters of the Night. A thick ribbon of dust trailed off to her right.
“The Amazeens are here,” the Lord High Commander said to his steed then reached down to pat the horse’s neck.
By the time Queen Deianeira drew into position on his left, Queen Mona was reining in beside him to the right. He greeted the warrioresses with respect.
“You mount a truly substantial force, miladies,” he complimented them, for there were hundreds of women ranged in a fan-shape behind the two busty queens.
“Lady Kynthia’s aunt will be here shortly with her troop,” Queen Mona said. “Her horse threw a shoe and she had to procure a new mount.”
“Lady Kynthia and Lord Leksi have gone back down there,” Konan commented.
“Back down there?” Queen Deianeira questioned. She narrowed her eyes. “You look none the worse for wear so I presume you escaped without a trip to Robeus’ chamber of horrors.”
“Not so, I’m afraid,” the Lord High Commander said. “They tortured Leksi for well over an hour. Lady Kynthia arrived just in the nick of time for he had…” He stopped and coughed, unsure whether he should say anything about Leksi having died.
“She made him One with the Blood?” Queen Mona asked.
“I suppose so,” he answered.
“Well, it had to be if they are to be Joined,” the Amazeen defense queen stated. “It wouldn’t have worked out otherwise.”
“I will be eternally grateful for the lady’s intervention,” Konan said. “I don’t think Robeus had any intention of either Leksi or I ever leaving his infernal keep.”
“No, he did not,” Queen Deianeira stated. “He wanted you out of the way so he could turn Ventura over to the vampyres.”
Konan blinked. “What are you saying?”
“My daughter’s sire,” Queen Mona said, her face crinkled with what could only be disgust, “has a great desire to rule the entire world. I did not know that until one of his minions confessed it to Deianeira.”
“Under a great deal of persuasion, she told me,” the Amazeen defense queen said. She smiled nastily. “She died while being persuaded, I fear.”
“The vampyres reside in Ordon, do they not?” Konan asked. “High up in the Transeld Mountains?”
“Slowly but surely they are making their way down to the valley where the common folk live. Sekhem has every intention of being Lord and Master of all he surveys. For years he has tried to find a Reaper from whom he could harvest a fledgling but as yet, he has not.”
“Aren’t they one and the same?” Konan asked, his brow furrowed.
“I can only tell you what I have heard. Some of it may be fact and some legend. Some of it may simply be wishful thinking on the part of the storyteller but from what I have learned Reapers drink blood to survive. They do not attack humans for the hell of it as vampyres do,” Queen Deianeira said. “Nor do they kill indiscriminately whatever living thing crosses their path.”
“I have heard vampyres cannot be killed. Is that true?”
“Contrary to folklore, vampyres are not all that powerful,” Mona replied. “They can not venture into daylight, a Reaper can. Thus, they are limited to the night. They spend their days locked in coffins and at the mercy of anyone who might happen upon them. They are vulnerable at that time and can be slain easily with a stake to the heart.”
“Reapers can die but only when their parasite has been damaged beyond its ability to repair itself,” the defense queen added.
“Vampyres have more fear of humans than Reapers do.”
“Unless the entire world is like them,” Konan surmised. “Then they would have no one to fear.”
“Aye and that is what Sekhem wants. But first, he would like to find a Reaper and he will not stop until he does, mark my words,” Mona told him.
* * * * *
Leksi was listening to the conversation taking place upon the rise and was unsettled by the implications. He glanced at Kynthia and saw that she, too, had heard what was being discussed.
“Is this something we need to be concerned about, wench?”
Kynthia shook her head. “I don’t know but I will ask Cree when next I—”
I wasn’t going to commune with you any longer, Kynthia, but this is something you need to know. The man has been found and he is already one of us, wench.
Kynthia flinched as the bold words slithered into her mind. “You are sure?”
As sure as I am confined on this damnable island, wench.
“Do you know by whom?”
Lord Khnum is the treasonous bastard’s name and he will implant fledglings in many of Sekhem’s cronies before the year is out, Cainer Cree replied. What is worse, Khnum has my journal which he was helped to steal when he came here.
“Why is that of importance?” Leksi asked, trying out his newfound ability to send mental messages.
Because it has the knowledge of Transitioning within its pages, Helios! came the fierce reply.
“And Khnum will use that knowledge to make many more Reapers,” Kynthia said with a groan.
Nay, not Reapers such as you and I, but vampyre lords, Cree stated. A hybrid worse than anything nature could create.
“Vampyres who can walk in the light of day,” Kynthia whispered.
Aye, Cree agreed. The very worst kind of inhuman monster!
“We will take care of that later,” Leksi reminded them. “Let’s get this over with before we—”
There is nothing you can do, anyway, Helios, Cree interrupted. It will be settled but not for many years. It is not Sekhem we have to worry about
but his seed. Concentrate on the matter at hand.
Kynthia and Leksi could feel Cree pulling back from their minds and looked at one another. “He is worried,” Kynthia said.
“With good reason, I think,” Leksi agreed. “Who did he mean? Who is Sekhem’s seed?”
“I think he means Mona’s daughter, Lilit. I have heard it said she will inherit her father’s powers when she reaches puberty. She’ll one day rule the Hell Hags and that might be a terrible fate for the Daughters. Perhaps she is the one we should go after when this is done.”
“You may be right, wench,” Leksi agreed.
Leksi rode beside his lady, testing his mental powers and growing easier with them with each passing moment. Though the thought of having to daily drink blood made him a bit ill, he came to terms with it. Just knowing he would have abilities that would make him a superior warrior eased his mind. Contemplating his new strengths, his grin grew wider.
“You run the risk of becoming arrogant, warrior,” Kynthia warned him as she intercepted his thoughts.
“Not arrogant but confident, wench,” Leksi corrected. “Think of the good such powers can do.”
“I think, also, of the harm they can do,” his lady warned. “There have been many times I have had to rein in my anger to keep it from lashing out when it shouldn’t.”
“Then help me control my powers, wench,” Leksi said. “Keep me grounded.”
Kynthia’s heart swelled with love for such a request was a true indication of how much Leksi trusted and respected her.
“And stop thinking on what happened to me,” he told her. “You could not have prevented it.”
Pain drove through Kynthia’s soul. “Just knowing you were in pain…”
“Pain I handled well enough,” Leksi said, squirming in the saddle. “Though I am mortified that I screamed like a little girl.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, sensing he did. “Releasing a scream or two did not make you less a man, warrior.”
“Perhaps not,” Leksi said, “but it will haunt me.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. “I thought myself above such things,” he admitted. “I always thought if the time came, I would be able to keep my mouth shut and endure it.” He winced. “Obviously I wasn’t the man I thought I was.”
Kynthia reined in her mount and turned to look at him. “Don’t say such things, warrior. No human could have withstood the agony that had been inflicted upon you. I doubt even a Reaper could have endured it without screaming. There is no shame in that.”
“Venturian warriors are trained early on to resist for as long as they can. I don’t think I resisted long enough to be satisfied I didn’t give up too soon.”
“Your body was a mass of cuts and burns!” Kynthia exclaimed. “How soon would soon be in your mind, Helios?”
Once more Leksi shrugged. “It will take me a while to come to terms with it, wench. I doubt it will happen again, but should it, will the deargs dul within me make it easier for me to bear the pain?”
Kynthia shook her head. “I can’t answer that, but why dwell on it, Leksi?”
“I am a warrior, wench. My pride was in my ability to stand firm when confronted with torture. I was trained to do so. I swore an oath that I would hold firm. I didn’t meet that challenge well.”
“You died!” Kynthia shouted at him, her eyes blazing. “How well do you think you meet death, warrior?”
Sensing the fury building in his lady and the guilt that she had been unable to prevent his agony, he reached out with his newfound power to soothe her mind but she mentally pulled away from him, refusing to allow him to comfort her in that fashion.
“Don’t do that,” she hissed at him. “Let me wallow in my guilt as you are wallowing in yours.”
Leksi flinched. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“Get over it,” Kynthia spat. “What is done is done. I could not have prevented it so I have to resign myself to that. You could not have stopped from screaming as agony was being inflicted upon you, and you have to accept that, as well!” She glared at him for a long moment, neither speaking.
Finally, the warrior nodded. “Aye, you are right.”
“Of course, I am,” she said, kicking her mount into a trot. “I always will be!”
Leksi rolled his eyes as he drummed his heels against his horse’s flanks. “Wench, we need to work on your arrogance!”
* * * * *
As Cainer Cree paced the sand, the waves of the Chalean Sea lapped eagerly toward his boots. The parasite inside his body was agitated at him being so close to the running water and was causing the Reaper pain in the small of his back.
“Punish me, you bitch,” Cree ground out. “I should suffer even greater agony for having given Khnum one of your beastlets!”
The Queen twisted viciously along his spine and Cree went to his knees, a hand to his back as he knelt there and panted with the torment rippling through him.
“Why do you persist in antagonizing the demoness, Beloved?”
Cainer refused to look around at the speaker whose sultry voice slithered through his head like a deadly viper. “Leave me alone, Morrigunia. Haven’t you caused enough mischief?”
The Chalean Goddess of Life, Death and War waded out into the waves and bent down to run her hands through the salty foam. “I know what I am about, my deargs dul. Why do you question me?”
He looked up to find Morrigunia’s gauzy gown plastered to her luscious curves. There might as well have been nothing covering her for the very outline of her body was in plain view behind the wet material. Despite his ironclad will, his body responded to the sight of the dark red-gold patch of hair at her groin and he turned away, digging his nails into the palms of his hands.
“Such unneeded torment you put yourself through, Cain,” she sighed. “All you need do is—”
“Leave!” he shouted. “I hate the sight of you!”
“Well, your cock doesn’t,” the goddess snapped, but before he could yell at her again, she disappeared in a whirlwind of tiny sparkling lights that drifted out to sea like butterflies.
Tears welled up in Cainer Cree’s eyes and he threw back his head and howled to the heavens. His terrible loneliness felt like a boulder pressing down upon his heart and he could barely draw breath. He hurt in his very soul and the honorable warrior inside him was awash in guilt. He had unwittingly made a horrible mistake in allowing Khnum to harvest a fledgling from his, Cainer’s, body. In a moment of pique, Morrigunia had allowed him to see into the future and to witness the exacting repercussions his mistake had brought to the world. So overcome with his guilt, he looked once more to the sea and took a step toward its heaving waves.
Instantaneous pain flooded the Reaper’s body but he ignored it and kept walking. Had not the Goddess appeared in front of him, he would have flung himself into the pounding waves.
“No,” Morrigunia said, lashing out with a palm to Cree’s cheek. “This I will not allow!”
Even though the parasite was torturing him, sending bright flashes of intense agony through his spine, Cainer Cree tried to go around the Goddess. The intention of drowning himself was clear in his amber eyes.
“I said no!” she said, and sidestepped in front of him.
Frustrated, helpless, he dropped to his knees and threw his arms around her legs. “Let me die, Morrigunia. Please let me die! I can not live with the guilt of knowing what I have helped set into motion!”
Pity flittered through the Goddess’ heart and she threaded her fingers through his damp curls and held his head to her belly. He was shuddering with grief, his body trembling against her. He was racked with sobs that came from the very marrow of his being.
“Hush now, Beloved,” she whispered. “I can not allow this.” She put her palm against his forehead. “I will not allow this.”
One moment the memory of seeing into the future was playing across Cainer Cree’s mind and the next, he was unconscious, draped in the arm
s of the Goddess as she carried him to shore. She laid him down upon the soft sand and sat next to him, lifting his head and placing it in her lap.
“I can not allow you to suffer so, my sweet deargs dul,” she said as she smoothed her palm over his forehead several times, wiping away the violent memory and replacing it with tranquility.
Long into the twilight, she sat there holding him, staring out at the brilliant red sun as it sank beneath the horizon. He slept on peacefully, unaware of the hands that roamed at will over his defenseless body. Neither did he feel the stony thrust of his root as it was worked to erection nor the impalement of the soft, warm cunt that enveloped him within its silky folds.
“Come for me, Beloved,” the Goddess whispered, and felt the pulse of his seed spurting deep within her. She smiled, closing her eyes to the intense climax that shook her body soon after.
She had thrown the Geasa at him long, long ago but she was immune to her own restrictions. How many times, she wondered as she departed that lonely island upon which she kept the Reaper captive, had she taken him in such a manner? Just as he was unaware of her gentle rape, he was equally unaware of the sons he had given her over the years—sons he would never see nor even know existed.
“Nor will I allow your latest Reapers to get in the way of my plans,” she said.
Chapter Fourteen
Queen Clea Robeus felt the blood rush to her face when she looked up to see Leksi Helios standing in her bedchamber. She put a hand to her chest as her head thudded forcefully in her chest.
“This isn’t another hallucination,” the queen said backing away. “You really are here and it was you who killed my father.”
“You have nothing to fear from me, Your Majesty,” the warrior was quick to say. He advanced into the room and went to one knee, his clenched fist pressed against his heart. “I am at your command.”
Until this day she had never met the warrior, but she had an artist’s rendering of him that she kept in a velvet-lined frame beneath her pillow each night. The rendering assured her of sweet dreams of the gallant warrior, and over the years that it had been in her possession, she had memorized the handsome man’s every facial feature. As she stared at him now, she realized the rendering—as expertly as it had been painted—was but a pale reproduction of the man’s true male beauty.
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