Authors: Suz deMello
Maersan ducked his head. “Yes, Ma’am.”
The taqqa snorted and stamped, seizing my attention. ’Twas a
massive beast, shaggy-haired and smelly but bearing signs of recent currying,
for its hooves were clean and its furry hide free of mats and tangles. I looked
up, up, up to its huge head, crowned with long, viciously sharp horns. A
war-beast, it wore a breastplate that jingled softly with each movement.
Storne vaulted onto his taqqa, landing neatly behind its
great hump. He slid back, making a place for me, and stretched a hand down in
my direction.
I swallowed my fear and reached up, but there was a clear
foot of space between our hands. Behind me I heard a diffident cough. “May I?”
asked Maersan.
“Yes.” I breathed deeply, consciously relaxing, and he set
his hands around my waist and lifted me with surprising ease. For a slender
young man, he was quite strong.
Reaching between the folds of my cape, Storne gripped my
torso beneath the arms and swung me over the taqqa so that I straddled its
hump, facing the beast’s head. He then pulled me down so I nestled against him
behind the hump, which, though large, did not impede my view of the road ahead.
Maersan handed the reins up to Storne while I eyed the
taqqa. “Bridles but no bits,” I said.
“They will go in whatever direction their heads are turned.”
Storne set a gauntleted hand on my left hip, where it remained, a constant and
heavy reminder of his strength. He held the beast’s reins on the right. I
squirmed and my pussy ground pleasurably into the taqqa’s hump.
“Ah,” he breathed into my ear. “You have discovered why
riding is such a popular pastime among our women.”
I leaned against him, his solid torso warm against my back
while I hitched my hips forward again. He twitched the reins and the taqqa
started to move to the head of the Darksiders’ procession. When the taqqa
walked, its muscled back worked, and each bunch and clench aroused me all the
more.
“Take the reins,” Storne said.
Turning my head, I cast him a startled glance.
He smiled. “Don’t worry.”
I obeyed, and he slipped his free hand beneath my cape,
closing it in the front. Then unbeknownst to others, he unbuttoned my blouse to
roam and explore my body. I had not worn a chemise or corset beneath my
jodhpurs or shirt, and my breasts swung freely or were cupped in Storne’s palm
while I handled the taqqa’s reins, my clit rubbing against the taqqa’s hump.
We rode together to the head of the Darksider group, then
forward farther through the horses ridden by the Children of Light. I managed
to greet Kaldir with some semblance of courtesy even though my body was afire.
He was clearly jealous. “Shall you ride with me tomorrow,
Queen Audryn?”
Storne’s hand clenched around my right breast and his
fingers plucked the nipple. I stifled a gasp. “Of course.” I smiled at Kaldir.
“It would be a pleasure to again ride one of your peerless mounts.”
“I’m your peerless mount,” Storne murmured into my ear.
“Not yet,” I muttered, turning the taqqa’s head. I wanted to
head the procession, which was my right.
“It’s solely a matter of time passing and we both know it.”
“I am not ready to make a choice.”
His hand dropped, unbuttoned my waistband and shoved inside,
searching for my mound. “Your body is.”
“My body has been ready to make a choice for several
starturns,” I said with exasperation.
He worked his hand toward my female flesh, already plump and
damp. “Have you remained naked for me?”
I guessed he wondered if my pussy were still completely
shaved. “Yes,” I said. “Can’t you tell? I find it…stimulating.”
“I dream of my mouth on your sweet clit.”
My body jerked. I was close to coming.
“I want to lick you. Suck you. Push my tongue inside you.
Feast upon you until you scream.”
I wantonly ground against the taqqa’s hump and Storne’s hand
left my pussy to pluck the other nipple. His mailed fingers tightened on my
hip, pulling me back into the cradle of his outspread thighs. I could feel his
cock pushing into my crack, nestling in the cleavage left by the demin
jodhpurs.
We were riding between groups now, having left behind the
DesertDwellers but not yet reaching my retainers. “We’re alone,” I said.
“Yes, we are.”
I turned my head to regard him again. “I could not stop you
from taking me.”
He smiled. “You’ll come to me.”
Still so damn arrogant. I twitched restlessly. “I want to
come now.”
“Lovely… Hot and impatient.” He stripped off his left
gauntlet and shoved it in his belt next to the other one.
“Just the way you want me, I am sure.”
He laughed. “I’m not a monster, you know.” Using his big
body, he forced me forward so my body from pussy to breasts rested against the
taqqa. He spurred the beast into a gallop. “I won’t make you suffer,” he
growled into my ear.
I sprawled atop the taqqa’s back, helpless as it thundered
through the forest. The vibrations from its pounding hooves rolled through my
body, heightening my arousal. Storne leaned forward so he was covering me. Gripping
my hand and the taqqa’s reins in his right hand, he jammed his left between our
bodies inside my loosened waistband, seeking my naked cleft. He lifted me,
pulled me back, and I could feel his heavy, hard length prodding me while his
finger found my clit, slippery with my juices. He stroked and played with me
and every touch drove me toward completion, fast and hard.
I was trapped and he was controlling me as easily as he
controlled his mount. Indeed, I felt as though he were mounting me. His weight
atop me pinned me and his fingers wedged against my clitoris, irresistibly
forcing jagged shards of pleasure that tore through my body.
I writhed against him, twisting, and he caught my mouth with
his as I came.
My southern keep lies close to the WestMarch and its wild
weather, hence its name, Windrush Manor. As I guided my palomino mare toward it
two days later, I could see strong breezes swirling around its turrets and
towers, whipping the red-and-black banners of my house into flight. Gales
roared through spires of the giant evergreens framing the manor walls, which
were themselves dark granite edged with sandstone.
Within the walls, a sturdy keep. Surrounded by greenery with
water features, as were all my homes, Windrush is distinguished by a primitive
aspect, as it was constructed of rough-hewn logs, notched at the corners, with
evergreen trees all around. Swift-flowing streams widen into lily-strewn ponds,
fringed by ferns and foxgloves. Lining many paths are hedges of blackberry
thick with fruit protected by thorny canes.
My heart thumped, and I realized that I had missed Windrush,
where my family had spent many happy hours when I was small. My later memories
were not so sweet, for nearby lay the lake where my parents and sister had
perished.
While our servants and retinues sorted themselves out,
unpacked and organized for a fortnights stay, I wandered through the gardens
with Frayn, Kaldir and Storne. Frayn and I relived our childhoods while we
showed our guests the beauty of the place. We still wore riding gear, and our
boots raised small clouds of duff from the fallen evergreen needles cushioning
the paths between the trees. We meandered beside a stream to the mews, where
falconers tended my kestrels and hawks, then sauntered to the stables and watched
scores of horses being bathed, curried, fed and stabled.
“I probably smell far worse than my horse,” I told my guests
as we returned to Windrush Manor. “I will bathe and see you at dinner.”
Though I had presented a cheerful mien to my lovers, I was nevertheless
in a pensive mood. I was not sure if I wanted to see the lake where my family
had drowned, but the event lingered in my mind as I went to the royal suite—now
my suite. ’Twas several rustic, wood-paneled chambers with large windows
showing the forests outside. In the bathing room, lined with polished pine
benches and dominated by a large wooden tub, steam rose in curls from the
surface of the water, scented with eucalyptus and pine. A stained glass panel
showed a woodland scene.
“You are quiet this eve,” Maia remarked as she poured a ewer
of clean, warm water over my soapy hair and shoulders, rinsing me. She dug her
strong fingers into my tight muscles and I hummed with pleasure. She continued,
“Today I have found myself thinking often of Queen Armina, King Mangor and
Princess Beryla of blessed memory. Their spirits are strong in this place.”
I shivered. “Perhaps their ghosts are angry, as their deaths
remain unexplained and unavenged.”
Her hands stilled. “I did not realize that you were
unsatisfied by the…official explanation.”
Storne entered the room. “What official explanation?”
I eyed him with irritation. “Why did Rall and Parron let you
in?”
“I told them you sent for me.”
“You lied.”
“Yes, I did, but I wanted to see you. You seemed unhappy behind
your show of hospitality and I wondered why.”
I cocked my head. The other suitors had not noticed my mood.
Of the many folk around me, only Maia and Storne had been insightful enough to
divine that I was troubled. “You are right,” I said.
“May I bathe with you and talk?” Storne shifted his weight
from boot to boot, clearly uncomfortable with his role as a supplicant. “Just
talk, I assure you.”
We had not seen much of each other for the last two days and
I had missed him. I hoped he had also missed me. “All right.”
He sat on a bench and Maia helped him tug off his boots. He
removed the rest of his raiment alone while she went to fetch more towels.
“The official version of what?” he asked, unbuttoning his
doublet and casting it and his codpiece to one side.
Trying not to stare at his penis, I shifted in the water.
“Being here has brought up the past. We were speaking of the passing of my
family.”
He fixed me with a direct gray gaze before his glance
dropped to the ruby on my breast. “You suspect treachery.” He slid into the
bath and sat opposite me.
I bit my lip. “It is not quite a suspicion, but…I do not
understand why the royal barge should have sprung a leak so suddenly, just when
a storm blew up over Lake Catura.”
“Catura is infamous for its storms,” Storne observed
equably. He dunked his head under the water, and when he emerged, rubbed soap
into his long dark hair.
Maia re-entered the room. “Lord Kloutt said that the barge
was blown into a boulder that lurked unseen beneath the surface of the lake,” she
told Storne.
“So Lord Kloutt was on the excursion,” Storne said. “But you
were not. Who else was there? Frayn?”
I noticed that Storne’s voice went flat and neutral when he
said Frayn’s name. “No,” I said. “Frayn and I had been exploring the woods
together. We had eaten some underripe berries and were sick. Neither of us went
on the boating trip.”
“Nor did I,” Maia said. She poured half a pitcher of clean
water over Storne’s hair and the rest over mine. “I stayed back to care for
Audryn.”
“As always.” Storne flashed one of his rare smiles at her.
“But it is curious to me… Would not Kloutt’s duty be to save the life of his
liege, even if it meant sacrificing his own?”
I blinked water out of my eyes. “Kloutt was my mother’s
brother and older by some years. He may not have been capable of helping. He
has arthritis.”
“Which soldiers and servants were along?” he asked.
I scratched my head. “Truthfully, I am not sure. I was not
as, um…aware then as I am now about who did what.”
“You must have been distraught.” Storne sounded calm.
“Overwhelmed, even. You lost your family and suddenly had the burden of ruling
the Shadowlands thrust upon you.”
Tears filled my eyes and I slumped against the tub’s rim. I
rubbed my face with damp hands, unable to reply.
Behind me Maia caressed my head, and I welcomed her
comforting touch. “Rall and Parron may remember who was on the royal barge that
day,” she said.
“Were they?” Storne asked.
“No,” I said with certainty. “They have been my personal
guards since my thirteenth starturn.” Since my Exhibition Day, in fact, but
there was no need for Storne to know that.
“But perhaps they remember who went on the excursion,” Maia
said.
“Perhaps.” I yawned. “I had best get out of the warm water
before I fall asleep.”
“I am also tired,” Storne said. “I look forward to sleeping
in a proper bed.”
I stood and Maia wrapped a warmed towel around me. “And I
also. Maia, please make excuses to the others. I do not wish to feast tonight,
but will take only a bowl of soup in my suite.”
She rubbed my hair with another towel. “The servants will be
glad of that. Perhaps a feast tomorrow night, which will give the staff time to
prepare.”
“That’s fine.” I yawned again. “Lord Storne, forgive me.”
“Of course. Shall we have wine? If we are not having a
formal dinner, there is no need to wait for later.”
“That’s a wonderful idea. Look in the sideboard in the outer
anteroom. Oh, and there should be robes in the closet here.”
He toweled off while Maia finished drying me and brought my
robe. “I’ll go make the proper orders,” she said before leaving the room.
“Is this the closet you mean?” Storne opened a wooden
sliding panel.
“Yes.” I ran an enameled golden comb through my hair.
“Oh, here they are. Were they your father’s?” He picked a
thick green wrap, shrugged into it and tied its belt around his waist.
“Most likely. This was their suite. Beryla and I shared the
suite down the hall. The one you’re in.”
The casual intimacy of the scene did not escape me. Storne
and I had become very comfortable with each other, even to the extent of
discussing deeply private matters like my feelings after my family’s death. He
had struck the mark perfectly when he guessed that I had not only been upset
and saddened, but overwhelmed by the vast tasks that had awaited me.
A fire crackled in the outer room opposite a couch strewn
with soft red cushions. We sat close together there sipping wine and watching
the flames. One of the big windows nearby showed a stand of oak with pink-and-white
cyclamen at the trees’ feet. Unlike the castle, which seemed to bustle with
servants, Windrush was quiet.
A doe picked her way from the copse toward the window,
nibbling on a few green sprigs that had pushed through the fallen leaves. I
sighed and cuddled into Storne’s body. Letting my eyes drift shut, I allowed
sleep to claim me.
* * * * *
When I awakened, I was alone in my bed. A dent in the next
pillow adorned with a long strand of dark hair told me that Storne and I had
slept together but he had kept his word. Talk only. And an unintended but
welcome intimacy.
I could trust Storne with my body, but could I trust him
with my realm? My people?
Through a nearby window, I glimpsed two moons gleaming
dully, low in the pewter sky. I appreciated being allowed to rest but knew I
had duties. I tugged on a bellpull. When Maia entered, bearing a tea tray, I
asked, “What is Storne doing this morning?”
She set the tray on a table and handed me my robe. “The
Prince of Darkness rose early, took his boots from the bathing chamber and
dressed in your father’s robe. When he left, he spoke with Rall and Parron for
a few minutes. “
“Hmm. What did they tell him?”
“Rall was initially cautious but won over, I think, by his
observation of the hastening intimacy between you and Lord Storne.” Her dark
eyes sparkled with amusement. “Parron talked freely.”
I remained silent.
She chuckled but continued. “They promised to check the
records and tell him later which servants and guards accompanied the royal
party to Catura that, um…day. I am sure they will ask you first.”
“Tell Rall and Parron that they may assist Storne in his
investigations, but warn the lot of them to tell no one and to be stealthy.” I
breathed deeply. “Then what did he do?”
“The prince crept quietly to his suite, taking care not to disturb you.” She
still seemed faintly amused. “There he dressed, explored this manor, then left.
I am told that he went to the stable, borrowed a horse and rode away from
Windrush. I believe he went to the lake.”
My brow wrinkled. “Storne is taking an unusually active
interest in the boating accident.”
“I, ah…” Maia hesitated, then said, “I did not mention it at
the time, but I also wondered if the event was not actually an accident.”
I stared at her.
She handed me a cup of tea. “At the time, you were not in a
condition to hear my speculations.”
I swallowed tea against my parched throat. The cup clattered
when I set it back in the saucer. “If there wasn’t an investigation, there
should be. By my command.”
“Storne is taking the matter in hand.”
“I am sure he is competent. Is he objective?”
“He is not a part of Shadowland politics.”
“Of course he is. He desires to occupy the Golden Throne by
my side.” I thought of Parron’s new relationship with Storne. “Prince Storne
must know that Frayn is one of his rivals for my hand. He is not entirely unbiased.”
“But he wasn’t involved starturns ago. If the deaths were
murders—”
I drew in a horrified breath.
“He had nothing to do with them.”
“Regicide. Who would dare? Who would be so heartless?” My
mind again flew to Kloutt and Frayn. Frayn, who had long coveted the Golden
Throne. But would Kloutt have sacrificed his own sister?
“I share your suspicions.”
I eyed her. “Explore them. Who arranged the excursion?”
“Mercourie’s predecessor, Lord Ambler. He was also
responsible for the maintenance of the royal barge.”
“He blamed himself, as I recall. He committed suicide three
weeks after…after…” I clutched my belly. “Who was in charge of security?
Parlous? He has held responsibility for my family’s personal security for
nearly twenty starturns.”
Her brow pleated. “I do not recall his presence in Windrush
on that occasion, but the records will be checked.”
“In the meantime…” I swung my legs out of bed. “Duties
await.”
I did not know how I would face Frayn and Parlous at that
morning’s council, but I did. We had received messages from Geoman, Caducia and
Kloutt stating that all was well, but the northerners were unhappy about paying
additional taxes levied for the Progress when they were not on its route. I
ordered Frayn to personally inform my subjects in the north that we’d visit
after our return from Lightside. That would get rid of him during the
investigation. I did not want even a breath of my suspicion to waft toward him.
My heart lightened after Frayn left, especially knowing that
Storne was looking into my family’s deaths. After I held court, I went hawking
with Kaldir, Parlous and Mercourie, and observed Parlous with a suspicious
mind. But he did nothing to arouse my concern. Besides, what would be his
motive? Though a widower, he had never sought my hand, and his children were
all mated and living in his lands, which bordered the EastMarch to the north.
That evening, we feasted in the Dining Hall, a large room
paneled in wood and, unlike the halls in Castle Remarck, featuring paintings of
my ancestors rather than tapestries of hunting scenes and the like. Instead of
long tables as in the castle, this room was scattered with small round tables that
encouraged conversation. I ate with Storne, Kaldir, Mercourie and Parlous, my
heart clenching a little as I remembered that the last time I had eaten at this
table, my parents and sister had broken bread with me. We’d had a jester who’d
dressed in our colors, red and black, and whose impressions of the Ten
Ministers had been incomparable. Beryla had played harpsichord here with me,
laughed at the jester with me, hummed the minstrel’s tunes with me.