Oathbound: The Emperor's Conscience, Book 2

by Michael Combs

  “Daffodil,” she said. I released my draw quickly, but smoothly. I didn’t want to shock her. She sagged against the edge of the tub, but her smile did not falter. After a time, she regained control of her breathing, straightened, and lowered herself beneath the surface of the warm water. She emerged with her head back, her long hair trailing down between her shoulders, and she laughed in proud triumph.

  “Kaeda?” I asked hesitantly as she stalked toward me and slid into my lap.

  “I did it, Evan,” she said, and she wrapped her arms around me. Her smile filled her face with joy and relief. It was infectious. “I resisted. I can do it. Even against your magics, I can control myself. I was the best. I still am.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea that our encounter last night had shaken her so deeply. As long as I had known her, she had been a bastion of self-assured confidence. I was only just beginning to realize how much it had frightened her to lose control, how thoroughly I had shaken her confidence, inadvertent though it was. I felt terrible for that.

  “I am sorry,” I whispered. Kaeda wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder. I pulled her tight to me. I wanted nothing more than to comfort her.

  “Hold me,” she breathed against my neck. “I deserve it.”

  Boundaries

  Kaeda and I spent a great deal of time together over the next several nights . She scheduled me between her regulars and held lessons. Sometimes, we would sit and talk about the theory behind her work, how to do what she did, and why it was so effective. Other times she held more practical lessons with hands-on application. I greatly enjoyed those parts, no matter which side of the ropes I was on. I learned much. Kaeda’s lessons were…thorough.

  She also helped me practice with this newfound capability of my Aspect and the surges of emotions that affected her so acutely. We’d discovered that she was particularly sensitive to them. In hindsight, it made perfect sense. She was attuned to the emotions and sensitivities of her subjects, which helped her read them and adjust to their needs easily. My Aspect, and the raw emotions that poured from me when drawing, even slightly, would overwhelm her and the control she had honed so carefully. She and I agreed that I would warn her so that she would not be actively working during those times when I was using my abilities. I couldn’t direct it at one person and exclude others, it was more of a generalized affect. I would hate to be the reason she flogged a man bloody who didn’t deserve it.

  We also discovered that not everyone was as susceptible to my power as she. I performed a series of experiments to determine the effectiveness, and the limitations of this newly discovered side-effect of my Aspect. The results were revealing, and I was glad that I put the ability to the test, even though in a couple of instances, I felt terribly guilty.

  For example, I loosed hunger and lust while ordering lunch at a tavern. The unsuspecting serving girl became instantly frightened of me, like I would grab her and have my way with her there in front of everyone. She must have been terrified, because a burly cook, cleaver in hand, came to have a word with me. I would never have hurt the poor girl. He didn’t know that, however, and would not accept that I had said nothing untoward to the young lady.

  When he became aggressive, I loosed the bindings on my Aspect and focused on predation and violence. He became nervous also, though I kept my tone pleasant. At first he seemed confused. It was as though his mind and his instincts warred with one another. I was outwardly placid and polite, but his instincts seemed to be picking up on a threat that my body language and demeanor did not support. I reigned in my power and apologized for any misunderstanding. I paid for my meal and left.

  The entire exchange left me feeling sick that I had frightened the poor girl but intrigued me that the cook picked up on my threat. It suggested not only that the emotion would still be felt regardless of what I physically represented but that if my body language matched the focused torrent of power I projected, it would be more effective.

  When I left, I made my way down the busy street, and when the crowd became especially dense, I focused on anger and drew slightly. Nothing happened. I drew more, and suddenly the crowd parted around me and I was able to proceed unobstructed. Several men clutched at daggers or swords as I passed, but none made to hinder me.

  I performed several such tests, and the results were both encouraging and disheartening. They were encouraging because it seemed that I could not alter anyone’s opinion of me. That relieved me a great deal. I didn’t want to be the type of man that could, and would, use magic to subvert someone’s feelings for me. I had seen magic that controlled the mind, and I wanted no part in it. But it was disheartening because I couldn’t just use my power to subvert the Mata’s feelings for me and accomplish my damn task.

  While it would have made my task so much easier if I could just magically seduce the Mata into giving me what I wanted. It would have been easier, but I couldn’t live with myself after. No. I would have to use skill and cunning. At that moment I didn’t know which would be worse—to seduce the Mata with magic, or trick her into falling for me then betray her for my own purposes.

  I will have to look her in the eye and betray her, I thought. It is as it should be. I am not special. I don’t deserve to avoid the stain on one’s soul that comes from treachery.

  She was a useful tool if I could pull this off, but she was also a person. I hated the necessity of it, but if I were to find the girls, I had to do it. I knew no other way.

  Certainly my power could be helpful in fulfilling my plans, but it was abundantly clear that it was no guarantee she would be receptive to my charms. In fact, I really didn’t think I had any charms with which to entice her. I needed something more to draw her under my influence.

  It was for this reason I sought out Nan. She was in the salon, and I asked her for a private meeting. We retreated to her office, but I stopped in the kitchens for some meats and cheeses to serve as a light lunch, as my own had been spoiled by my attentions on the hapless serving girl.

  “What is the matter?” Nan asked. “You look concerned. Did something happen?”

  “I am having doubts that this will work,” I said. “I need more information. I am thinking of doing some surveillance on the Mata and Jardir. Maybe then, I can learn more and ensure our plans actually work.”

  “Absolutely not.” Nan said. “I have put a great deal of effort into making sure she comes to seek you out, without actually making it sound desperate. I will not have you ruin that by being recognized the instant she walks in the door.”

  “How do you know she will even show?” I asked. I didn’t like the idea of relying on others for my information when a night or two skulking about could very well give me what I needed.

  “She has as much as said she will,” Nan said. That halted me in my tracks.

  “How do you know?”

  “One of my spies, a maid in service to the Jardir, overheard part of an argument between the Mata and the Jardir. She mentioned her interest in a new ‘plaything.”

  “I know what you said about Trulari nobility, but are you certain he won’t get jealous?” I asked. “I wouldn’t like to be arrested because I was trying to seduce another man’s wife.” Nan waved the concern away.

  “This isn’t Arul,” she said. “Trulari aren’t nearly so prudish. No…he told her to do it, said that if she had a romp it would do them both some good.” I was incredulous and grateful. Having grown up in the Empire, I was accustomed to my own culture’s ways. Trular’s notions of propriety were still surprising to me, especially when it came to the nobility. I would stand to benefit from it, it seemed…but still, foreign custom was difficult to acclimate to. Perhaps Nan’s schemes would be enough to get the Mata in the doors. It would still be up to me to win her over.

  No pressure, I thought.

  “Fine,” I said. “We’ll proceed your way until I better understand what’s going on. Don’t get angry when I take over, however. I hate not having the upper hand.
”

  “Son, if you can get the upper hand, you can have it. Just try not to screw this up before we even get started.”

  I left Nan’s office and stomped my way back toward the salon, my frustration at not being in command of my own fate mounting. We had to get the Mata here. I had to convince her that I was worthy of being her Consort so she would include me in courtly proceedings at the palace. The Jardir had a consort, by all reports, but his wife did not. Apparently she had found none suitable for the position. I passed through the salon and headed toward the stairs.

  “Evan,” Shani called. “I have been looking for you.”

  “What is it?” I said. “I was just heading to my room.”

  “Good, I’ll come with you. We need to start your training as courtesan, remember?” I breathed out a sigh.

  “I am not in the mood right now.”

  “Perfect,” she said, “because your first lesson will be on faking it. You don’t think we only work when we are interested, do you? And no, your lessons with Kaeda are not sufficient. Most of the women who come in here aren’t interested in that kind of thing. You are going to have to learn to do this the old-fashioned way. Who knows? You might even like it.”

  The Mata's Bulldog

  I remained in my room for the first half of the night. According to Shani, it would be fine for me to be in the salon, but not too early. I had to remember I was the new guy, and I was designated ‘by introduction only.’ I was expected to come to the salon during peak hours to socialize, but I was not to solicit. Nan said that it would be she who would introduce me to potential clients. Who knew there was so much etiquette to these things? I wasn’t sure how to solicit anybody, anyway. It was one thing to tease around with my friends; it was another entirely to approach a complete stranger with offers of carnal bliss. I was so lost in this world that I couldn’t have found my way back with a map.

  Nan said she had whispered into some very specific ears that there was someone new, and how to book me. That would generate talk among the wealthy socialites who partook in such pleasures. None would try to approach me directly, however. It would be seen as poor form. She had told me in private, that I was to expect some attention over the next few days. Apparently the rumor had already sparked the Mata’s interest. Since Damien had his say, I was now aware that the Mata was known to break her toys, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.

  I had spent an hour getting coached by Shani. By the time she had to take the floor, I had a basic game plan for how to proceed for the evening. I left my room at the designated time and made my way toward the salon. I wore the latest in Mylean fashion: light linen trousers of the faintest beige that ended mid-calf, tied at the waist. The loose-fitting shirt was worked with delicate purple embroidery of flowering vines around the wide sleeves and deep collar that ended in a point above my navel. The thin sandals were like not wearing shoes at all after my normal leathers.

  I entered the busy salon and immediately spotted Nan. She was at the bar giving instructions to Elsbeth. I joined them. I had walked through this salon many times performing my security duties, but tonight was different. I wasn’t scanning for threats. I was scanning for vulnerabilities, and I felt dirty for doing it.

  I thought back to all that I had learned about the situation thus far. I was going to have to deal with the civil war here in Trular, find Merey and the other two girls, then return home to address the impending turmoil there, and hope I got there in time. How in Hessa’s Holy Tits had I gotten myself into this mess?

  I just wanted to right a wrong. I just wanted to save those children. I didn’t want the fate of two lands dependent on me. And just how did all that come to ride on my ability to get laid in a whorehouse—and get paid for it? The ridiculousness of it all caught up with me then, and I giggled.

  “What’s so funny?” Nan asked.

  I stopped laughing and looked at her. Her brows were furrowed, and she seemed about to berate me. Again, I burst out in giggles. I fell back against the bar to keep from sliding off my stool.

  “He’s cracked,” Nan said, shaking her head. “The boy’s lost it.”

  “Is he drunk?” asked Elsbeth.

  I waved my hand at them, finally gaining some semblance of control over myself. “No.” I wiped at the tears on my face. “I’m fine. I just need a moment.”

  “Time’s up,” Nan said before I could fully quell my panic.

  I followed her gaze to a beautiful, but stern-looking woman with hair the color of desert sand. Her light brown skin perfectly complimented her cream-colored dress. She moved as though she got what she wanted, always, and without asking. She wore a scowl that suggested she disapproved of everything she beheld. I wondered what she would look like if she smiled, but even I knew better than to voice that particular query aloud. I wisely kept the thought behind my teeth as I watched her perch imperiously on the edge of a sofa.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “Palasia Sciorda. The Mata’s Bulldog, or Hound, depending on who you ask. ‘The Terror of Jerea,’ they call her. I am not sure if her presence is good news or not,” Nan said. “She is nearly as powerful as the Mata and has a reputation in court as one spiteful bitch. Word has it there is no love lost between her and the Mata either, both having been rivals for the Jardir’s attention at some point. But they cooperate, and each gains.”

  “Sounds dangerous,” I said.

  “Trulari politics are often addressed in quiet, yet violent, ways,” she said.

  “What does this mean?” I asked.

  “It means that the ‘plaything’ the Mata mentioned is indeed you,” Nan said. “That she sent her is troubling. She is likely here to assess you and see if it is worth the Mata’s time to come in person.”

  Something Nan said caught my attention and I perked up as I replayed it in my mind. “Say that again.”

  “She is likely he—”

  “No, before that,” I interrupted.

  “She and the Mata were rivals for the Jardir?” Nan asked. She looked at me suspiciously. “What are you thinking?”

  “Has she been here before?” I asked. Nan looked befuddled. “Palasia. Has she been here before?”

  “Once. She wasn’t here long. I don’t think she approved of our selection.”

  “She ran them off, more like,” Elsbeth said under her breath. “Look at her.”

  “Now, Elsbeth,” I chided as a plan began to form, “play nice.”

  I watched the Bulldog glare about the room as my plan came together. I didn’t know if it would work, and I supposed that would depend on how good Nan’s information was.

  “Beth, hand me a bottle of the blackberry. I’m going to stir the pot.”

  “That’s my boy,” Nan chuckled as Elsbeth set up a bottle of my favorite wine and two glasses. “Good luck, and try not to get us all killed.” I grabbed the bottle and one glass and slid off my stool.

  I started for the sofa. The closer I got, the more dour the woman’s expression became. By the time I fell onto the sofa next to her, she was positively hateful.

  “It’s about time someone offered refreshments,” the lovely courtier said.

  I poured wine into the glass and set the bottle on the table. “This? No, my dear, this is for me. But if you play nice, I’ll share.” I sipped the dark wine and savored the fruity sweetness.

  The fury that lit her face was instant. Nan threw her hands up in defeat and turned away, apparently unable to watch me get myself killed and equally unable to do anything about it.

  I lowered the glass and held it out. The enraged woman looked at me in shock, then glowered her disapproval. I just shrugged, downed the rest of the glass, then refilled it.

  “What are you doing here, Palasia?” I asked. “You don’t often frequent these places.”

  “You know me?” she asked, brow raised and her ire momentarily forgotten, or so it seemed.

  I laughed softly. “Don’t be coy, dear, you know better than me that a woman as powerful a
nd attractive as you cannot possibly go anywhere without being recognized.”

  “I have been called many things, all of them unpleasant, and most of them true. This is the first time I have ever been called coy. Tell me, what is your name?”

  “Are you going upstairs with me?”

  “I should think not,” she said flatly.

  “Then you need not know my name.” I took another drink.

  She stiffened and her eyes were hard as flint. “I should have you flogged for your impertinence.”

  “Oh, I agree,” I said with an excited grin. I held up a finger. “But only if you hold me after. Aftercare is so important, else I may think you don’t love me.” I gave her my best smile and loosened the binds of my Aspect by drawing lightly on my power.

  Palasia watched me peruse her body. I focused solely on hunger and lust as I had learned with Kaeda and let my Aspect fuel the animal emotions. Her cheeks reddened as she met my eyes. She started to look away, then steeled herself and held my gaze. I pushed a little more. She looked like she could read my filthy mind, but she did not look away. I restrained my Aspect suddenly, not wanting to frighten her off, and she relaxed. Her face was flushed, and she reached out, and took the glass from my hand, and drained the remainder in one gulp. I refilled it and she took another long drink. Her hands trembled as she held the glass between them, to keep from spilling it. It took only a moment for her to compose herself and regain a measure of her hostility.

  “Word has it you are looking for some grand appointments.”

  “That’s where the money is,” I shrugged.

  “Coin is one thing, but the favor of the Mata is something else entirely. While I applaud your ambition, it is clear that you do not understand the risks. You should be careful what you wish for, else you may get it.”

  “I never claimed to be seeking the Mata,” I said. “I would love to know who is spreading those rumors.” I held my hand out for the glass and when she realized she still held it, she thrust it toward me, spilling some on her hand and the sofa. “If the Mata wishes to spend some quality time with me, however, I believe I could find the room in my schedule.”