Scarlet and the White Wolf [02] - Mariner's Luck (23 page)

Regent. She wanted him to be regent until Cestimir reached his majority. For an Rshani noble, that was sixteen winters. But ... Regent? She wanted to step down from the throne and pass all power to him in Cestimir's name. Either she trusted him more than anyone on the face of the world or else she secretly hated Cestimir. He could not imagine how it must have been for her.

Thankfully, Shikhoza was gone from the outer chamber. At least he would not have to see that particular lady again so soon. But she had left her little embroidered swan, perhaps intentionally. Who knew? Rshani women were full of little nuances and subtleties and lies. There were layers upon layers of meaning in every conversation, complexities sewn in and around every word, hints and intricacies and far too little real meaning to any of it. Liall remembered that it used to 198

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grate on him, and bore him, and he wished for silence. Well, he had gotten that in abundance.

He smelled the little silken swan and smiled bitterly. It was her perfume, not the one she had worn tonight, but the scent he remembered from her youth, something insipidly light and smelling of flowers: a girl's perfume.

He dropped it on the bench and went to seek Scarlet and his bed, but he was stopped, again, at the outer tier. Melev was there, blocking his way.

Neither truly Rshani nor foreign, Melev towered over Liall.

The Ancient was so tall that he had to duck through most doorways, and his frame was equally huge. His skin was the color of red oak, his broad, angular features seemingly carved from immutable stone, and he was bald, which was a rare thing in Rshan. He wore no boots or garments of rank, only a rough, homespun robe belted with a strip of leather around his middle. Dressed like this, Melev could walk across the frozen continent from end to end and suffer no injury or ill effects.

Melev bowed, his face frozen into solemn lines, before rising to his full height to regard Liall with frost-colored eyes as large as apricots.

"Your t'aishka," Melev said in his rolling bass voice, gesturing with one his monstrous hands, the six fingers of which moved in odd directions as he spoke. "Is it true? Is he Anlyribeth?

A proper greeting would not have occurred to Melev.

Creatures like him did not think along the same polite lines as ordinary men.

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"Hilurin," Liall corrected, studying him. "But yes, the same race."

Melev only nodded as if he had known it all along, his eyes glittering like moonstones. He turned abruptly and walked away with a fluid, ground-eating stride. "See you keep him well."

Liall nearly called Melev back, suddenly frightened that the Ancient had experienced some foreboding or possessed some secret knowledge, but he was away before Liall could stop him. Liall returned to his apartments with a much heavier step.

* * * *

It seemed to Scarlet that he had been asleep only a moment before a light touch woke him. He started upright and there was Liall, crouched next to him. The sadness was back in Liall's eyes, and he looked older somehow.

"Scarlet, why are you sleeping on the hearth?"

Scarlet felt tongue-tied, but Liall's bizarre wardrobe loosened his speech. "What in Deva's name are you wearing?"

Liall wore a knee-length sort of skirted tunic, long-sleeved, made of rich blue wool with rows of ornamental silver buttons down both sides of his chest, rather like a dress that Annaya might wear. Scarlet was embarrassed for him, being made to dress like a girl, even though he wore breeches and boots and a black silk shirt under the contraption.

Liall laughed at his expression. "I assure you, this is what is worn in Rshan. It's called a
virca
."

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Perhaps so, but Scarlet did not know this silk-clad gentleman. This was not his Kasiri chieftain, but some stranger. Liall smiled and the strangeness fell away.

"Well, did you get your answers?"

"I haven't even begun to ask the questions," Liall sighed.

Liall ran a hand through his hair, which had grown on the voyage. It was no longer the close-cropped affair that had looked so odd to Scarlet at first. Liall's white hair reached nearly to the bottom of his ears now, and it looked much softer and altogether more comely on him.

"That woman," Scarlet began. "Your mother, is she really

... are you?"

"She is a Queen, so I am by default a prince. Although,"

his look was heavy "I renounced all that long ago, many years now. I am no longer Prince Nazheradei of Rshan."

"Why come back at all, then?"

"Because no matter what, I am still my mother's son. She asked me to come and I could not refuse."

"What does she want from you?"

"That," Liall said "I cannot tell you at this moment. What I can tell you is that my mother is what we call a progressive leader. She has forbidden dueling in the Nauhinir and all southern cities, loosened the trade restrictions for women, and has relaxed import regulations to allow our trade ships more freedom both to make profits and enter into trade contracts with foreigners. Her actions have caused no small amount of dissent within the realm. There are those," he said slowly, "who believe my mother has betrayed the traditions of our people, and that what she has begun, Prince Cestimir will 201

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continue. This has resulted in many fractures in the power structure of the neighboring barons in the south kingdom and has reawakened many old feuds that the great families still maintain with the north."

Scarlet could find little to say. It was all beyond him, this talk of kingdoms and contracts. He could only nod and hold his tongue. Liall's speech sounded rehearsed and the sense of betrayal still stung him. He knew he had been lied to, but he did not know how much he could blame Liall for it. Part of him wanted to shout and accuse, and another just wanted reassurance that matters would not change between them.

Though, of course, that was impossible.

Liall was no fool. "You're angry."

"Four months is a long time to sail," he answered. "In all that time, you might have given me a hint."

Liall's face was drawn with weariness. "I never asked you to come to Rshan with me, Scarlet. I knew it would be impossible. I did not tell you on the ship because there are things about me that even yet I am not ready to share with you." When Scarlet remained silent, Liall bit his lip and bowed his head. "You must admit that I could not have intentionally set out to deceive you."

Scarlet nodded. "I know. That's what makes all this so hard to believe."

Liall rose and held out his hand. He drew Scarlet up to stand with him. "We may be here for a long time," he said, holding Scarlet's hands between his. "Whatever mistakes I have made, I promise I will try to amend them. And you must 202

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trust me now, my love, no matter how angry you are with me. Your life, and probably mine, depends on it."

My love. Scarlet liked the sound of that. Suddenly, Nenos was back with lengths of pale clothing draped over his arm.

The servant laid out another nightshirt and robe for Liall, and Scarlet looked at the old man with misgiving, not liking the idea of being tended waking and asleep.

Liall followed his gaze. "You must accustom yourself to Nenos. He has served me since I was a boy."

Scarlet nodded. Liall spoke to Nenos in Sinha and Scarlet heard his name. He flicked a questioning look to Liall. Nenos bowed and then left them alone, and Liall put an arm around Scarlet's shoulders and drew him toward the bed.

"I should not have allowed you to come with me," Liall said distantly, pulling him into a fierce embrace. "It is far more dangerous than even I had expected. You might have done better taking your chances with the Flower Prince's mercy."

"Too late for that now."

"Yes, of course," Liall said. He cupped Scarlet's face in both of his hands. "And I know you can take care of yourself, but while we are here, you must heed me in everything. You must guard your words; engage in no quarrels or disputes. It is far too dangerous."

"I haven't—" he began, but Liall stopped his mouth by kissing him, slow and sweet, and Scarlet could have no complaints about that.

Liall drew back and studied him gravely. "You and I, we had a bad beginning, t'aishka, and there is a part of you that 203

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still does not trust me. Yet you must, and you must heed me and be guided by me while we are here, or we both may die."

"I trust you," Scarlet said, but neither of them had forgotten how he had recoiled from Liall time and time again, how he had mistrusted the older man even in bed, and how they had once come to blows back on the Nerit. He wondered what Liall was getting at. "I do trust you," he insisted. "I just don't feel very in control here. I haven't felt in control of anything since we left Volkovoi."

Liall looked at Scarlet for a long moment. "We are going to play a game," he said seriously.

Scarlet huffed, though the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "What kind of game?"

"A lover's game," Liall said, and kissed him again, sliding his hand beneath the wool of the robe to caress Scarlet's skin through the silk of the nightshirt.

Scarlet shivered. "A lover's game?" He had never heard of such. "How?"

"You must not ask," Liall murmured. There was an odd look on his face as he pushed the robe from Scarlet's shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. "The only thing you must do is to command me to stop at any moment that you cease to trust me."

Scarlet was not sure he liked that, but Liall was pulling at the laces of his silken nightshirt, and he focused on removing Liall's virca, or trying to.

"It's a damned dress, it is," Scarlet muttered, and Liall laughed softly and kissed Scarlet again before drawing back to attend to the buttons of the virca himself.

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Liall's hands were very warm and big. Everything about him was big: his fingers as they drew lines across Scarlet's chin and lips, his tongue that teased and tickled within Scarlet's mouth, even his sex. At no other time was Scarlet so reminded of the differences between Rshani and Hilurin as when he was intimate with Liall.

Scarlet scarcely noticed when the silken nightshirt slid to the floor and puddled at his feet, but he yelped in surprise when Liall lifted him up and tossed him on the bed to lie sprawled naked on red silks and fur.

Liall laughed. "You see, this is the point," he said, his voice low and hot as he climbed into the bed with Scarlet, leaning over him. "Did you want me to do that?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, think about it. What do you want me to do right now?"

Scarlet did not understand, yet he hardly minded.

"Undress?" he asked hoarsely.

Liall leaned in for a kiss, and then sat back on his heels and took off his black silk shirt. "Yes, my lord." His pale eyes glinted with mischief.

Scarlet watched him undress, which Liall did slowly and deliberately, holding Scarlet's gaze at all times. When he was nude, Liall took up his black shirt again and turned it this way and that, and then ripped the long collar off.

"What did you do that for?"

"Shh, trust me for a moment," Liall said, and straddled Scarlet's body with his knees. "All you have to do is order me to stop."

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Scarlet nearly pulled away when Liall put the silken scrap over his eyes, on the verge of panic. He did trust Liall, or at least, he did in this. If he hesitated when they were alone, it was not lack of trust, but the fact that Liall himself could be almost overwhelming.

I do trust him, he thought. I do.

Liall tied the silk around Scarlet's eyes before gently tucking his black hair back to suckle on the spot beneath his ear. It was amazing what sensations Liall could produce on parts of him that he had not expected to be sensitive. Without sight, it felt even more intense, and Scarlet jumped when cool fingers skimmed over his bare shoulder.

"Relax. You know I would not hurt you," Liall murmured.

His voice was warm and lulling. "You know this."

Scarlet took a deep breath and nodded. "I know it." It was strange, not seeing, only feeling. He was conscious of the caress of fur, of the warmth of Liall's breath on the curve of his neck, the heat of skin against skin. He turned his head blindly, seeking Liall's mouth, and was rewarded with a luxurious kiss, Liall's tongue teasing his own.

Scarlet reached to embrace him. Liall took his hand and held it. "No. Not unless you can tell me yourself what you want. What do you want me to do?"

Scarlet opened his mouth to complain, but Liall kissed him again until the words had flown away. Liall then fitted his hands around Scarlet's waist and shifted Scarlet up higher on the pillows.

Scarlet was disoriented with the blindfold, but Liall guided him, his touch gentle, and Scarlet sank back against softness.

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He tried to reach for Liall again, and Liall took his wrist and kissed the inside of it, touching a wet tongue to the pulse there. Scarlet squirmed, and Liall stretched Scarlet's arm out, up over his head, and looped something soft around his wrist, binding it.

Suddenly alarmed, Scarlet tried to sit up, but Liall kissed his mouth gently before forcibly pushing his shoulders back to the cushions.

"Now, this is how it is," Liall's deep voice rumbled into his ear, passionate and thick. "You must not free yourself. If you cannot bear it, then you must tell me and
I
will free you. I will do nothing that you do not command me to do." His mouth was very close to Scarlet's ear. "You think you are not in control. You are very wrong about that. I have been bound to you since we met."