Man Who Should be King (4 page)

By far Kalledane, of the three worlds, was the most gadget
and technology free. People traveled here to see how they and their ancestors
had once lived, and quite often many would begin making plans to retire on
Kalledane. Of course, while all of this was true of Kalledane, it was most
certainly not true of Mystonia. Rarely did strangers venture into the
mist-laden, myth-shrouded land.

Since the ship was small, the other travelers had soon begun
questioning one another’s destinations, usually volunteering where they were
from as well. Syranna had been brought up by her grandfather to always be
polite. Aware of her fellow shipmates waiting for her reply, Syranna finally
murmured her answer.

“I’m returning to my home, Mystonia.”

The young boy traveling with his parents was too young to
observe proper rules of etiquette. He got out of his seat and crossed to stare
at Syranna.

“Wow! Do they really have dragons and wizards?” he
questioned guilelessly and with wide-eyed wonder.

His mother had quickly followed him, anticipating trouble,
but not able to stop it. “I’m so sorry.”

Syranna looked into the other woman’s eyes. “It’s all right,
really.” She turned to the little boy. He had blond hair and blue eyes, and was
completely innocent in his reasons for asking such questions. All she had to do
was reach out and touch him, and he would see all the wonders and beauties that
made up Mystonia. But to do that would probably frighten the child, so Syranna
smiled at the boy.

“It is a beautiful place, lush and green, with water
everywhere. It’s usually foggy, making some things look mysterious. We ride
horses, not dragons.”

The boy smiled and let his mother drag him back to his seat.
Syranna told herself silently that she hadn’t really lied. It was true that
most people rode horses…

Over the next few weeks, Syranna worked hard at keeping her
mind off those last few hours on Vikalla. She wanted no memories of that time,
especially of the feelings she had experienced as Marcus had loomed above her
body. Many times she questioned her own actions. Ralus had taught her many
tricks to defend herself physically against such an attack, and yet she had not
used any of them. Instead she had used her mental powers.

She berated herself over and over, wondering if she had
invited his attack. Or maybe it really hadn’t been an attack after all. Had she
really wanted him to take her like that? From the moment she had seen this new
liege lord, she had felt strange and unfamiliar feelings. But no matter how she
berated herself, she still had no answers to her inner questions.

It was too complicated. She had said no, but then she had
started to like the way his touches made her feel. Her body had begun dictating
her actions and she’d wanted him to show her what being a woman was all about.
So why had she stopped him, just as her body had welcomed his heat and power?
Finally she remembered something her grandfather had told her years earlier,
during one of her training sessions.

“You must always think before you use this power you have
been granted, Syranna.” Lord Mathayrus had nodded as he talked to her quietly.
“Sometimes things happen very quickly in our lives. Your power, if you draw
upon your deepest reserves, will almost become a force within the force.”

“What do you mean, Grandpapa?”

“Just think carefully before you decide to use your powers,
my sweet granddaughter. There may come a time that you will wish you had not
acted before you anticipated the full consequences.”

Many times since her return from Vikalla, she awoke in the
night, wanting things she wasn’t even sure of. The feel of his big hand, so tenderly
caressing her breast, was much too sweet a memory for her to push away. Each
time she recalled being on the bed with Lord Marcus, her flesh would tingle and
she felt heat surging through her body. Between her thighs, wetness would
appear. One night, she had moved her hand down to stroke her wet lips, easing
between them to find her clit. In the quiet darkness, Syranna caressed her
flesh until she climaxed.

She went about her business, though, as the weeks passed,
trying to ignore her sleepless nights, filled with longing and arousal. She
often awoke in a sweat, her breasts swollen and tender, her nipples taut. If
she touched her breasts it only heightened the feelings and the doubts. And
when she awoke with wetness between her thighs, she seemed unable to stop her
hand from straying down to ease her discomfort.

That first night, she was unsure and tentative, but soon she
learned just where to touch herself to ease the burning emptiness she would
feel. The first time her body had jerked and spasmed in response to her own
touches she had pulled back in shock and amazement. She had felt the beginnings
of that in his arms, but her hand had brought her to satiation.

Yet after each time she satisfied herself she only felt
guilty. It was nonsensical, but somehow she knew that she would have felt much
less guilt if she had let Marcus continue his attack that night. Instead, she
had gathered all of her inner strength and focused it all into her sensory
powers. With precise control she had entered Marcus’ mind and taken control.
Syranna had sensed that he was going to enter her body a second before she took
him.

It had not been easy, overcoming such fierce masculine
strength and determination. Using all her of powers, she had sent his conscious
mind into deep unconsciousness, and he had immediately slumped to the bed
beside her. If she had just stopped there, it would have been all right. But
she had not stopped and instead she had planted deep in his mind the memory of
taking her as he had planned.

Planting thoughts, or dreams, into another’s subconscious
was a power that few of the mystics her grandfather had introduced her to over
the years had ever possessed. She had learned of the power about a year after
her arrival. It had started simply enough—wanting extra sweets or playing with
something she shouldn’t. Syranna had learned that all she had to do was think
what she wanted and then look into the person’s eyes. If she could have
physical contact, then the effect could be even more powerful.

Like all children, she had started practicing this
intriguing ability on others, until she tried with her grandfather. It was
getting late and her grandfather told her it was time for bed. That night,
though, Syranna was being stubborn about everything. Instead of stomping her
foot or even shaking her head from side to side, Syranna had concentrated very
hard. Squinting intently with her eyes, a frown appeared on her forehead and
she stared very hard at him. Syranna sat quietly, just waiting for him to look
at her. Once he did, she would have her way!

“Hell’s Bells!” Lord Mathayrus had stood so quickly that he
knocked his heavy wooden chair over.

Sir Ralus had rushed up to him, wondering what could have
possibly upset the old man now. It became immediately apparent by the way the
old wizard was glaring at his granddaughter that whatever the disturbance was,
it was very serious. Opening his mouth to ask what was going on, Ralus could
only watch as Mathayrus acted quickly.

Mathayrus stunned the other people seated in the old hall. In
less than a minute, he had grabbed his granddaughter’s hand and was dragging
her behind him. Syranna was so surprised her mouth hung open all the way.
Mathayrus didn’t stop until they were deep inside the gardens surrounding the
old castle. Abruptly stopping, he turned to look at the shocked and scared
little girl. Steeling himself, he ignored the tears welling up in her big blue
eyes. Shaking his head, he looked at his granddaughter, unable to miss the
striking resemblance between her and his daughter.

“Syranna, do you know what you were doing in there?”

Syranna’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, Grandpapa.” Even
after all this time, Syranna could recall the look in his eyes—fearful, almost.

“Have you done that before? Trying to change my mind after I
told you it was time for you to retire for the evening?”

Syranna didn’t consider lying to him. “Yes, sir.”

Mathayrus led her over to a stone bench in the garden.
“Listen to me, Syranna, for this is probably the most important thing I shall
ever tell you. You must never let anyone else see you do this. What you’ve done
in the past is over, but unless you are alone with me, you must never do this
form of deep alteration again.”

Syranna was very frightened as she nodded her agreement.
“Very well, Grandpapa. May I ask why, though?”

“I will tell you soon, my sweet granddaughter. Until then do
not mention this to anyone. If anyone should ask about tonight, I shall tell
them I lost my temper with your delaying tactics.” Mathayrus stood slowly,
reaching for Syranna’s hand again. “Do not fret, my sweet. I shall teach all
you need to know about such abilities, but we must not let anyone else know our
secret. Promise?”

Syranna promised, and from that day on she was very discreet
practicing this powerful mental control. As she grew, she became aware of her
ability to get all the animals to do whatever she wanted. Of course, this power
was especially handy when she desired extra sweet treats from the cook. The few
servants around the castle eagerly obeyed the bright-eyed little girl, happy
that they could please her.

* * * * *

Marcus’ anger knew no bounds when he was informed the
following morning that his “guest” was nowhere to be found. And then, the
unconscious stable boy had been discovered and Syranna’s horse found missing.
It was easy to learn from that what had occurred. He had followed her, but had
missed the planetary ship by a few hours.

His gut was telling him to follow her immediately, but he
had also confided to William the night’s events. William convinced him to wait.
To give both of them time to cool down, he had argued persuasively, and for
Marcus to develop a “plan of attack.” He was a master of campaigns, William had
reminded him, and this was to be one of his hardest won campaigns ever.

* * * * *

Marcus was like a fish out of water. And he hated the
feeling. Four weeks after Syranna’s departure, he arrived on Kalledane with a
full entourage of staff, knights and servants. There had been meetings with the
chief of the diplomacy committee of Kalledane. When he had explained he was on
his way to Mystonia, the silence at first had been a bit daunting, but then
Lord Allaene had offered guides to assist them. Eventually, it had turned out
that only one man was willing to guide them into Mystonia, and he looked so ancient
that Marcus feared he wouldn’t survive the arduous ride even one day. But after
staying two days at Kalledania, the capitol city, they set out on horseback for
Mystonia.

The land was lush and green everywhere he looked. Plants,
trees and flowers of all kinds grew on Kalledane. As they neared the border
between the two divisions, he could almost feel the increasing moisture in the
air. Crossing the border, rain always seemed imminent, and the ground was
covered half the day in a thick mist. The horses were skittish due to the mist.
They all soon grew irritable with each other.

Finally, after traveling for two days, he sent nearly the
entire entourage on a return trip to Kalledania. He went on with Sir William
and their guide, Old Toeom.

They passed several small villages and cottages. They were
greeted carefully, coolly. They were never denied a place to lodge if needed,
but they were distrusted as outsiders. Finally, on the fifth day, as the mist
finally began clearing somewhere around the midday hour, they caught their
first sight of the small castle in the distance. It appeared to be floating in
a cloud, the mist surrounding it was so dense. As they neared the gray stone
castle, the gates opened. He was not terribly surprised to see a very old man
come walking down the stone pathway toward them.

The curious old fellow was stooped over, with a long white
beard, and wore a brilliant purple velvet cloak. The old man greeted Old Toeom
first, which surprised Marcus. Because of his dress and his horses’ outfitting
it was obvious that he was a knight from a titled house. Old Toeom managed to
slide off his horse and greet the other man with a precarious bow.

“I am most sorry to disturb you, Master Uther, but Lord
Allaene bade me guide these knights here. They demand to see the lady.” The
last part was whispered, almost as if in reverence.

Master Uther nodded. “Very well, Toeom. Please take them to
the stables first and then join me in the main hall. I’ll find her and see if
she will accept visitors.” Uther then turned, still without acknowledging
Marcus or William, and returned to the castle.

Nearly an hour later, Marcus and William were finally shown
into the main hall of the castle. He noted immediately that it was stark and
quite bare inside. William muttered that he hoped they had real mattresses for
them to sleep on at least. Uther greeted them from a chair that was rather
ornate, at the far end of a long empty table.

“Please be seated, travelers. I’ve ordered some food and
drink and it should be here shortly.”

They moved to take seats on either side of the old man.
Marcus cleared his throat. “I am Lord Marcus…”

Uther cut him off with a sweep of his hand. There was no
missing the imperiousness to the gesture. Obviously, Uther was a man who was
always obeyed.

“I am aware of who you are, my lord. And this is Sir
William.”

He stopped as an elderly woman entered with a young serving
girl and they silently laid the food and wine upon the table. Marcus noted the
table at which they were seated was finely carved, despite its ancient
appearance. The plates, goblets and tableware were also of the very finest
quality. Even the old man’s purple floor length tunic was of the finest velvet
available. All of these things, along with the well-maintained although nearly
deserted castle, spoke of wealth in bygone days.

Marcus was getting impatient to see Syranna when William
suddenly jumped to his feet.

“What the hell was that?” William demanded, pointing toward
a darkened corner of the hall.

Marcus turned around to look where his friend and loyal
knight was pointing. William had actually looked a little unnerved. Then he
heard the noise that had alerted William to its presence. In the silence came a
scampering sound, which sounded like a dog’s toenails against a hard floor. The
corner was too dark to really see anything and he turned back to the old man.

Marcus was surprised that apparently Uther had not even
paused in his eating. Only when Marcus addressed him did he finally glance up.
“What is that, Sir Uther?”

Before Uther could reply, William was cursing again. “Good
God! Marcus, the thing has glowing eyes! Look!”

Marcus glanced over his shoulder, but he didn’t see
anything. “It’s probably just a cat, William.” He looked back at Uther, who had
returned to his food. “It’s most likely a cat looking for mice.”

More scampering noises sounded and they all seemed to be
going toward the same corner. It was obvious that William didn’t believe it was
a cat, or cats, but nonetheless he asked Uther, “Does Lady Syranna keep cats
for pets?”

Uther spoke, but he didn’t look up. “Mistress Syranna keeps
pets, but no cats. And they do as well as cats in catching mice, so what do I
care?”

Marcus happened to glance over toward his friend and saw the
frisson of fear dart across the bold knight’s face. This man was fearless in
facing his enemies.

“So what does she keep as pets?”

“Dragons, of course! Some people keep odd things for pets,
but Syranna is usually practical. Even her grandfather thought so.”