The Exodus Sagas: Book I - Of Spiders And Falcons (35 page)

“And the letter…” Kaya moaned as they began to get close, her legs lifting off the ground and wrapping around his back, crossing at the ankles behind her lover. “…where did you put it Evril?”

His motions were soft yet rapid, not wanting to hold back for another interruption. “Problem with that is that the priest, as he died….” Kaya stood up, grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up, placed her hands on his hips and turned him around. She grabbed the rope hanging from the crossbeam off the wooden rafter to the left in shadow, letting it fall down from its anchor above the chair. “..what’s the rope for my lady?”

Kaya sat him in the chair, mounted him, her breasts pushed against his face, and held onto the rope. She began again to arouse him, this time in charge of the moves and motions of the intimate morning pleasures. “It’s for me. The priest died,
and.
.?” Evril was barely able to concentrate on words or thoughts, his mind overcome with this beautiful woman on top of him, round cleavage nudging his lips as she moaned softly with every kiss, her hands above his head holding the rope tightly as they embraced.

“He threw the letter down the foothills, and the ogre…” he began to reach a point of uncontrolled feeling with urges of lust, his words were lost in soon to unfold ecstasy.

“You
lost it
to the ogre, you had to flee, right?” Kaya moaned as well, her body shivering from cold, from sweat starting, and from the warmth of anticipation more than embrace.

“Yes, I had no choice. What is that for Kaya?” she had stopped right as he was all hers and held up the tie for her robes and garments, tied it around her lover’s eyes, producing a surprising smile of more to come. Sweat ran down his chest, he felt his pants being brought back up, belt fastened, and shirt being placed on his warm wet body. “What are you doing?”

“A surprise, my love, for a job well done. You are young enough to do this again and again,
I can tell
. So no rush, we have all morning. This time you will have to
guess
what I am doing without looking. The more you guess correct, the more I
remove
. The more you guess correct, the more I will do for you
, in many different ways
.” Kaya stood behind him, knelt down while caressing his hair, pulling playfully a bit. She reached under the blanket and grabbed the suicide letter, the one that explained how Evril could not live with himself after leaving his friends to die at ogre hands. It mentioned how he failed to protect them, how he was not worthy of his knighthood or his life. All written by Kaya late last night in perfect forgery.

“You are pulling my hair, and tickling my chest with, with…
parchment
?”

“Very good, a kiss for the easy one my lover.” Kaya placed the paper on his lap and knelt down again, pulling her shortsword out of the hay. She kissed him, backing up a step, tied the rope. Playfully around his neck and into a knot it went, kissing his ears and stroking her hand back and forth across his thighs. Her breasts, knowing men loved breasts, flirted with the side of his face as she tied the knot, never letting the rope much more than lightly touch his skin.

“You are, well, you are doing a lot. Touching me, rubbing your bosom on my face, and kissing my ear.” Evril was at her command, full attentions on the lover he could not see, getting so much more than his young mind had ever expected.

“
Excellent
, how did you guess all that at your age? Have you had this done to you
before
?” Kaya teased, walked round the chair and felt for the lever to the door, the door to the lower barn, the door that the chair was placed upon. She felt it, under the hay and pushed it open, the door swung open, the chair, the hay, the letter and blanket, and finally Evril dropped as the ground vanished.

“
No
, this is my first…
clehhhh, clehhh
….” his body frozen, dangling, blindfolded, his neck snapped. The air pushing to get out, and his mouth screamed to get air in with his neck strangled off. Evril kicked and tried to grab something, there was nothing. He tried to get the noose off, tried to reach for something nearby, yet his struggling arms began to weaken and fall to his side. He saw nothing, no one, his eyes covered and his darkness quick.

Kaya inched forward over the pit removing the tie she used as a blindfold from his eyes. His eyes were bulging out of his face, his neck veins tight and his whole body red except his strangling face that was turning purple very quickly. She had heard the neck snap, knowing it should have been quick for him. The shortsword cut twice, effortlessly, across each wrist as they began to fall limp at his side, the blood dripping off his fingers to the floor far below. Kaya grabbed the dagger from his belt, smearing a little blood from his open wrists on the blade, and dropped it down the hay chute. The Lady of Southwind sheathed her blade, tied her robes, and left the stable as the sun was starting to rise. To the world that would know, it appeared obvious that Evril Alvander head cut his wrists and hung himself in the stables, full of guilt and remorse at failure.

Quietly she snuck into the keep through backstairs by the kitchen and up the servant stairs then down to her chambers. Kaya closed the door, locked it, and fell to the floor in a fetal curl. The tears ran for hours and she cried herself to sleep, the sun shining rays of white-gold light through her windows on a snowy Chazzrynn winter morning. Pieces of black marble lay about her room on the floor from the warlock mirror she had destroyed earlier. All that was left for Kaya to do was leave her home in Southwind and her title with it. Everyone she needed dead, were now dead. Having to leave her entire life behind, Kaya T’Vellon now felt dead just as much.

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“A thousand apologies my great and honorable ambassadors from the north, where
are
my manners? The manifests you asked to see, on our progress here in Chazzrynn and Harlaheim, yes? Heathen, bring the books.” Johnas had wined them, fed them the finest Valhirst had to offer, shared his whores, his opium, and his hidden home. Men like these were accustomed to finery and yet accustomed to hiding when abroad. If nobles from the Altestan Empires were seen, no matter whom with in almost any country in Agara, they would be captured and interrogated at the very least. Spies from the former invading kingdoms, especially the much larger and vastly more powerful lands of Altestan, were never allowed nor trusted. Now to win confidence and contacts throughout illegal trade routes and royalty, that none but a few like himself would dare, Prince Johnas Valhera prepared false documents to attest to the names and activities of his agents in the south. A show of power. Could he show control and ambition, he may gain what no other criminal or noble had thought to achieve, an agreement with the most powerful nation in the known world, a nation made up of dozens of conquered races and countries. A nation of power, of men, and of faith. Altestan was nearing his grasp.

Heathen set down the black leather bound journals in the center of the table where the three men sat late in the evening. The men and women of the White Spider had been on high alert to
not
mention any employs of creatures not human. No mention of wizards, elven assassins, doppelgangers, or any strange contacts they had throughout their webs. Johnas had enough of a hint from Ambassador Prince Alamud that he knew not to mention his goals of enlisting the hard to pierce dwarven settlements as well. The beliefs of the Altestani were that of their race, the dark hair and skin, blue eyes, were the chosen and triumphant bloodline that had eradicated other races from their immense continent long ago. Their leaders, their religion, and their conquests had proven over thousands of years, to them at least, that they were simply the chosen children of God. Above women, beasts, magicks, and about anything else. The Prince of Valhirst had done well to keep Vanessa hidden, along with others and the warlock mirrors.

“This is interesting Johnas, very thorough indeed.” Alamud flipped page by page through the names and locations of over sixty cities that the White Spider had presence in, not to mention the activities, holdings, and other surrounding cities throughout the island realms of Yallah-Garoug, Taberlo, Falligarde, Halay, and even far off Jal-Adeen over ten weeks travel by ship.

“As you can see, my agents number nearly a thousand strong and we infiltrate every merchant center, trade route, opium quarter, gambling den, and political stronghold on Agara. There is little that the White Spider does not know of and even less that we can not obtain. What you seek is information, a constant flow of the goings on of your enemies. What I seek is the direct and protected trade route to your merchants and especially the opium fields. You get your eyes and ears full of secrets, politics, and numbers, and I get my kingdom
, below the kingdoms
.” Johnas smiled, seeing their interest.

“What do you know of the west, I hear many things of a magical nature have turned up since the flood and since your king reopened the ruined lands?” Prince Alamud was staring at the Southwind Keep pages, small as they were, reading notes on raids and contracts that had mostly never occurred.

“The west, well, we have confiscated through our agents there many a lost relic. But of potent magic I know little. I have my eyes on renegade wizards, as you do as well, and we try and destroy what we find that could empower someone beyond their God given ability.” lying, like a Prince and a crime lord, lying was his first language. Johnas simply played to the crowd, what they needed to hear. He had more treasures of magic and arcane creation than he knew what to do with, as did many of his quartermasters, spies, city domenarchs, wizards, and assassins.

“Wonderful to hear, wonderful indeed. And, dear Prince, how is the rulership of the young king of Harlaheim, Richmond, is it? We hear he is having great difficulty with a few elder nobility, church groups, and a wizard that seems nearly worshipped for his longevity in the troubled kingdom. What light can the eyes of the White Spider shed on this?” Alamud was patient, hunting for holes in the answers, seeking for something, yet Johnas could not figure it.

“It seems ripe for placing my men closer to the throne, if that is what you mean. As far as wizards and old nobles, I know many that would cause a young king trouble, yet Harlaheim is ruled by those old men that kill their own kings when they need a scapegoat to appease the masses. I have my men where I need them for certain.” He was curious, almost as if these men had an agenda, one from another contact somewhere close that they had spoken to. The questions vague, yet pinpointed to certain trouble areas for his organization. Johnas sipped more Caberran wine and waved his hand to have the servant boys fetch another bottle from below.

“And ties to other nobility and military strongholds, these are secure?’ Alamud partook in the wine, enjoying its richness and depth of earthy and sandy tones, much unlike the ripe yet soft and lighter red wines of the north. His robes of spun silk and slave picked cotton were still finer than anything he had seen in Valhirst, he mused as his comfort reawakened. Bored to tears on the inside, the noble from mighty Altestan asked more, even though he had made up his mind.

“Yes many. I have a report from an agent in Southwind arriving this week, should you care to wait. Her…
his
movements have alerted me to every action of this kingdom, before they happen. T’Vellon, the Lord of the fortress, has not only assisted in killing the ogre of the kingdom, but done so from a position of nobility and honor, doubling as one of mine for nearly a decade now. A finer symbol of loyalty you will not find.” Johnas flaunted too much he felt, but he cared not. The stumble with these men was done, in the past already.

“I must say Prince Johnas, you have shown us much and been hospitable to the last.” his accent still sharp northern, his eye contact perfect, and tone balanced and unwavering. “However, your men in places such as the elven kingdom in Shalokahn, and wizards such as Dasius in Vallakazz, and corrupt abominations such as Salah-Cam, have vastly different stories of your dealings and moral behaviors. Strange that their names were not listed in your notes. Neither was your pet wizard, the one you copulate with,
M
iss Blackflame or Kaya T’Vellon
? Perhaps when you are serious about your word, we can be serious about a deal between the White Spider and Altestan. We bid you farewell Prince Johnas Valhera. Your Caberran wizard at the academy should not be so, talkative? Yes that is the word, talkative.” Alamud’s voice never fluctuated, his eyes and face calm as the grave, his plan perfect. He turned to leave the chamber and was allowed. To stay for days and nights, to indulge in every sinful pleasure, to produce comfort and false friendship, and then to subtly use his knowledge to humiliate and expose. The crime lord suffered a blow that would shock him, perhaps into rash actions.

“And farewell to thee, royal
ambassadors
. In years to come, perhaps.” Johnas kept quiet and respectful, knowing he had lost, failed today and better to say nothing at all and keep some dignity. They had known of his dealings with the elves of Shalokahn, one of the strongest rivals to their kingdom. They had known of his ties to rogue wizards, an insult to their beliefs. Lastly, they even knew of his hidden affairs with Vanessa, which means someone inside Valhirst itself had spoken, had been approached and had betrayed. Dasius of Caberra perhaps, but likely they just wanted him dead for their own enjoyments and pinned something. Johnas had planning to do, much planning. With the loss of one fortress this week and several failures, he would need all the members he could organize to regain what he thought to be
security.