Shadows of Men (The Watchers Book 1) (32 page)

              Mayvard stood stiff for a moment, holding Bloodbinder in the air and waiting for any of them to dare attack again.  When none returned, he looked down to Rhada and saw that she could not move.  She lay on her back, staring blankly up to the sky.  Her entire body shook as though she were naked in a blizzard and a slow, steady stream of saliva escaped her mouth.

              Mayvard wasted no time in lifting her off the ground and hoisting her onto his steed.  He shivered when his hands touched her flesh and felt the sting of its iciness.  He knew she needed aid but there was no one that remained in Tyos that could help her.  He kicked his horse and the beast, sensing his urgency, rushed forward into its quickest gallop.  They ran through the dead city of Tyos, leaping over piles of debris and ignoring the blinding fog.  They raced up the hill towards the upper city and as they rushed past the lodge, Merek emerged from the door and ran to the street to greet him.  Mayvard, however, did not stop and did not look back as he raced forward and away from Tyos.

              “Come back!”  Merek shouted after him and he ran as fast as his feet could carry him.  “You promised you would take us to safety!  Come back!”  But his words were lost in the wind and soon, Mayvard and Rhada were gone from his sight.

              Merek stood alone in the street, shivering in the cold and cursing at the emptiness before him.  It wasn’t until the fog from below began to creep through the street and he could see the shadow walkers begin to emerge from the deserted homes around him that he turned and made his way back to the lodge, locking the door tightly behind him. 

Chapter 27

T
he first thing Emeric felt when he woke was cold.  He shivered and pulled the blankets over his naked body, holding them to his chin to ward off the chill of the night.  He had not expected the castle of Axendra to be so drafty. 

              It was still dark; still night.  The darkness filled the unfamiliar room, revealing to him only the outline of furniture.  He rolled to his back and stared at the black ceiling, wondering at the hour.  He felt a growling in his belly and knew that it was full of wine with no food to settle the bubbling. 

              He shifted his shoulders on the pillow, feeling the heaviness of his exhaustion weighing upon him.  He closed his eyes and began to slip back into sleep, when he suddenly remembered his purpose for being there.

             
Get inside, rescue Terryn, get out quickly.
  That had been his plan.  His plan was failing.  He turned his head and saw the outline of the Queen lying next to him.  Her pale skin was like moonlight in the dark room.  Her breathing was soft and light, barely audible over his own breath.  She lie on her back, one arm overstretched above her head, the blankets pulled down around her feet, nakedness exposed.  She was beautiful; one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.  His desire for her began to grow again- he felt it stirring within him like a slumbering beast, catching scent of its prey and waking. 

             
Rescue Terryn! 
His thoughts shouted at him. 

              He wanted to reach over and touch her- stroke her breast, kiss her lips.  He sighed and pushed himself away from her, knowing that a man’s life depended on him and he should have been ashamed of himself. 

              He sat up slowly, hoping not to wake the Queen.  He leaned over the bed and pulled the blankets over her so that she would not be cold as she slept.  She sighed and turned her head then continued her rhythmic sleeping breath. 

              Slowly and quietly, Emeric pulled the blankets away from him and stood.  He felt through the darkness for his clothes.  He found his wool underclothes and hastily put them on, then felt for his leather armor and decided it was too dark to tell if he was putting it on correctly.  He found his tunic, pulled it over his head, then rolled the rest of his leathers up and held them tightly in his arm.  He kicked around the floor for his sword and lifted it in his hand when his toes touched it. 

              He turned and looked to the Queen once more, frowning at the prospect of leaving her.  He could stay here with her all night, pulling her warm body in close to his, pushing her thighs apart with his knee, kissing the soft skin of her neck.  He turned away quickly, throwing those thoughts aside. 

             
Focus on what you came here to do! 
He scolded himself.  He pulled the door open without making a sound and stepped out into the dark corridor, which was surprisingly colder than the room he had just left.  He shivered and pulled his leathers in tighter. 

              He looked both directions, wondering which way he should go.  He was unfamiliar with the layout of the castle but Lord Ivran had told him that the stairs to the dungeons were not next to the main staircase, but close to the kitchens.  He decided to go right, hoping the kitchens were somewhere around the back of the main corridor. 

              He trudged lightly, keeping a hand on one wall to guide his way while holding his leathers and his sword in the other, trying not to drop them.  The sword was heavy and the leathers were heavier than he realized.  When he was wearing them, he did not notice, the weight being distributed evenly, but when they rested upon his arm in a heap, they weighed it down.  He could feel his arm begin to shake and knew he would have to stop to dress himself completely.  He smiled at his luck when he turned a corner and found a lit sconce.  He stood underneath it and sorted out his clothes.  He put his leather pants on first, followed by his boots.  His bracers were next then chest piece that covered his arms and protected his heart during battle.  His gloves were last and when he was properly dressed, he stood up tall with sword in hand and felt a fresh wave of confidence wash over him.  He pressed on quickly, knowing he had wasted too much time already.

              Each corridor of the castle linked to another in a maze-like pattern.  It did not take Emeric long to realize he was lost.  He passed so many closed doors he lost count and was frustrated that he could not see what lay behind them.  There was not reference point for him to follow- no guide to show him the way- and he knew he had taken a wrong turn somewhere when he ended up at the doors to the great hall.

              He looked to the great double-doors with trepidation, turned and looked back the way he had come, scratching at his head. 

              “Where in the bloody blue skies do I go?”  He asked to the darkness.  He jumped when the darkness answered.

              “Where is it you are wanting to go?”  The voice was that of a woman and Emeric was not at all surprised to find the Queen standing next to him when he turned.  She smiled at him through the darkness- her black robe blended into the black walls of the corridor and all he could see was her ghost-like face, floating in the air. 

              “Majesty!”  Emeric cried out.  He felt his face begin to sweat and his hands begin to shake.  He was uncertain what he would say to her; how he would explain what he was doing wandering around the castle alone at night. 

              “I know this castle better than anyone- every dark corner and hole.  Tell me where it is you wish to go and I can show you.”  She smiled sweetly, as though there was nothing suspicious in his actions.

              Emeric swallowed hard and held tightly to the hilt of his sword.  He could not tell her his true intentions; he could only tell her that he had planned to leave, to return home to Ylia, but what would happen once she escorted him to the front doors?  Her guards would make certain reentering would be impossible.  He shifted his weight nervously and hoped he would not have to take force with her.  In order to save Terryn, he may have to restrain her somehow, pummel her with the hilt of his sword until she was unconscious. 
But what if I strike her too hard and she suffers a fatal wound to the head?  What if she bleeds to death? 
He was uncertain if Terryn’s life was worth the risk.  He tried to remind himself that she was the enemy, but he could not convince himself of it. 
The King is the enemy, not this frail creature.  She could not hurt a mouse if she tried. 

              “You seem nervous.”  The Queen said, observing his shifting and twitchy movements.  “I suppose you wish to get an early start home.  Perhaps you are embarrassed by our actions earlier.”

              Emeric nodded his head, knowing it was the only explanation he could give her. 

              “I thought as much.  Please do not be ashamed.  I am the Queen, yes, but I am free to do as I wish.  My husband cares not.  And you are very handsome.”  She smiled again and stroked his arm.  “You are irresistibly handsome.  If anyone should be ashamed, it should be me.  I knew I would give in to my carnal instincts the moment I saw you.”  She chuckled at these words. 

              Emeric was uncertain what he should say.  He smiled politely at the compliment but kept silent. 

              The Queen waited only a moment for him to say something, but when it became apart he would not break the silence, she reached forward, grabbed his hand in hers and began pulling him along. 

              “Come,” she said, “have a drink with me, then you can return to Ylia.”

              Emeric finally found his voice as he was dragged to the stairwell.  “I really must be going, your Grace.”

              “Nonsense.”  The Queen said, pulling him up the first flight of stairs.  “You cannot tell me that Lord Ivran expects you to return this night?  You have a long journey ahead of you and the hour is not yet that of dawn.  You can have a drink with me, rest, then be on your way.”  They turned in the stair shaft and climbed another flight.  He had no idea where she was taking him but he followed obediently, like a child being dragged at the arm by his mother.

              He counted six floors as they traveled upward.  She led him to the fifth room on the right and pushed the door open hastily. 

              Inside, the room was well lit.  There were tall candelabrums in every corner, candles upon the tables and nightstands, sconces upon the walls, and his nostrils filled with the scent of melting wax and smoke from the hearth which burned in the western wall.  The bed was centered in the room with a large painting of King Darrion looking down upon them.  The bedposts stretched up almost to the ceiling.  There was a wine cabinet in one corner and a wardrobe in another, next to a door to the privy.  The balcony doors were wide open, making the silk curtains flap in the cool breeze.

              Queen Scarlet let go of Emeric’s hand and sauntered over to the wine cabinet, wasting no time in pouring two glasses of a deep red wine.  The liquid was almost black in appearance.  She handed a glass to Emeric and tapped hers against the edge of it- the soft
clang
of the glasses touching reverberated in the stillness of the room.  She put the glass to her lips and took a small sip.  Emeric followed her lead and drank his wine.  He took larger gulps, drinking almost half the glass.  It was sweeter than he expected; one of the best wines he had ever tasted. 

              “It comes from Lerous.”  She said when she noticed the smile on his lips.  “It’s called Cherry Red.”  She turned and walked to the balcony, pushing the curtains aside and stepping out into the night air.  Emeric followed, feeling that he had no choice.  His heart beat anxiously for Terryn, wondering how he was going to rescue him now.  He stepped out into the chill of night, drinking the rest of the wine, and stepped to the edge of the balcony next to the Queen. 

              She set her glass upon the balustrade and turned to him, pulling the string of her robe so that it opened in the front to expose herself to him.

              Emeric’s desire for her began to burn.  The beast was fully awake now, growling hungrily.  All thoughts of Terryn fled him as he reached forward and wrapped her in his arms.  He lowered his head and began licking at her breast, feeling the stiff nipple between his lips. 

              Queen Scarlet sighed with pleasure and tilted her head back.  She wrapped her hands around Emeric’s head and stroked his hair.  “Yes.”  She whispered as his lips caressed her.  “Feast upon my flesh.”  She said.  She gripped his hair tightly in between her fingers and the pain of it was almost blissful.  He moaned and grabbed her hips with his hands, pulling her closer to him.  He wanted nothing more than to be inside her, to lie within the sheets with her and feel her milky skin in his hands. 

              He knew he was lost to her, he knew it the moment his head began to spin.  He felt it in the waves of euphoria that rose up from her body into his.  But then his grip on her loosened.  His head was spinning fast now and his heart raced inside his chest as though it would burst free.  He pulled his lips away from her and tried to see through blurred vision.  His hands fell helplessly to his sides and if it had not been for her tight grip on him, he knew he would have fallen to the ground.

              “Wha…” he tried to ask but his lips were numb and unable to move.  The form of her body began to disappear from his view and darkness was creeping in the corners of his eyes.

              “Yes!”  She whispered again, lowering him softly to the ground.  “Sleep precious one.  You belong to me now.  Sleep as I command you.”  She let go of him and he knew by the sound his skull made as it hit the stone floor that she had dropped him, but he did not feel the pain of it.  Instead, the world grew even darker and vanished. 

Emeric moaned with grogginess as his blurred vision slowly began to sharpen.  There was a strange dryness in his mouth and he smacked his lips several times trying to get some moisture to return.  He tried to lift his hand to rub away the sleepiness behind his eyes but discovered that he could not move- his hands had been tied to the bed posts. 

              Emeric cried out in pain as he tried to pull his hands free but they were secured tightly.  He lowered his head back onto the pillow in defeat and looked at the room around him. 

              He remembered making love to the Queen.  After that, his memories were chaos.  He could not grasp one moment of complete awareness and realized he wasn’t even certain how much time had passed.  He looked down towards his body and saw that he lay atop the bed, stripped of his clothing.  A soft whimper escaped his lips as certain memories began flooding back to him; things he did not think had actually happened but were, perhaps, a dream.  He knew now that all of it was real.

              He remembered following the Queen to her chamber, but now he was back in the room they had made love in.  He remembered a man standing over him, holding him by the chin and forcing a thick, sour liquid into his mouth.  He remembered the Queen, sitting on top of him and laughing.  Her laughter had filled the room and made his ears ring.  That was the last thing he remembered. 

              Emeric tried to wriggle his feet around but realized they were numb and impossible to move.  He turned his head and cried out in frustration- knowing that the Queen had done this to him.