The Flame of Wrath (32 page)

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Fate itself showered down on the expedition with a loving grace. Its breath was the wind beneath their strides which spurred them quickly home.

             
An armor-clad Maven entered Whispering Winds as a conquering hero. Her face was hidden behind a majestic helmet, giving her the air of Queen Maven's chosen champion. She had returned to bring her land the spoils of war. Blinking, she gazed through the thick rains of festive confetti showered upon her and her men.

             
Smiling happily, Maven led the way on horseback. Her beautiful horse cantered proudly down the cobblestone road. The Queen smiled adoringly as her eyes feasted with abandon upon her waiting castle.

             
The tall walls rose high into the sky. Their lines were softened by the piercing rays of early morning. She spurred her horse into a gallop. With her actions came the sound of thunder. Riding as one, her army charged after her causing the very ground to quake beneath powerful hooves.

             
Horns rang out into the air. “The Champion!” a guard shouted from the towers. “The Champion returns!”

             
The Empress lifted her head from the soft comforts of her silken pillow. She tensed with excitement. Maven had returned. “Attend me!” Aurea commanded as she ripped back her sheets.

             
Before the young Empress could even finish standing, her bevy of beautiful attendants had rushed into the bedroom. They swarmed her spiritedly.

             
A silk gown with pulled down over her erotic form. It was cool against her smooth skin. She stared forward as an ivory comb was run tenderly through her flaxen curls. She did not see the women bustling around her. She saw only the immediate future and what it could possibly mean for her. As she drew in a lengthy inhalation, she tasted opportunity in the air.

             
The Empress rose her left foot slightly from the floor. It was guided carefully into an embroidered slipper. Only after she had found her balance, did she repeat the act with her right foot.

             
In a half-hearted attempt to assist the attendants, Aurea scarcely extended her arms behind her. Gossamer fabric slid effortlessly over her arms and shoulders in a golden surcoat. It was clasped between her breasts by nimble hands while another pair touched cold jewels and beaded gold to her forehead. The spectacular crown possessed free-moving ornaments which swayed along their golden chain at even the slightest of movements. The crown was fastened at the back of her head with a clasp. Only then did Aurea shoo her attendants from her sight with a stern look.

             
The Empress fled from the bedroom she had claimed as her own in Maven's absence. She had run her empire from Whispering Winds, determined not to allow Maven the opportunity to conceal anything from her. Her presence had also acted as a sort of alibi for Maven. 

             
As she rushed through the bustling halls, she ignored the preparations for Maven's return. The servants were all so excited to welcome “Maven's Champion.” Aurea, herself, cared only for the findings of the company she heard filing into the courtyard.

             
Aurea turned her head as a vision in splendid blue quickly raced around the corner of the adjoining corridor. The speed with which she came nearly found their paths colliding.

             
Passion flushed Salem's cheeks. Her chest was heaving. Her golden hair was framing her face like fine silk. Quickly, she tore her eyes from the Empress. She gripped the length of her gown then turned toward the castle doors. With spirited steps, she lightly ran toward the doors.

             
Aurea rushed to move alongside the pretend Queen. She stared forward, seeing the doors beginning to open with their approach. The bright light coming into the castle was all but blinding. Overcome by the sight of it, she released a chastising hiss to Salem. “Cease your hurrying,” she said. “You look like a commoner.”

             
Salem cared nothing for anything but the woman she knew was waiting just beyond the threshold. “I am not the only one who hurries,” she said, surprising both herself and the Empress.

             
Salem hastened her pace then burst through the entryway. A beautiful smile broke across her face as she stood breathless taking in the small expedition.

             
The Empress was mere steps behind Salem. She stopped at her side. Her crystalline eyes were blinded for a fleeting moment before they could adjust to the light. When at last the intensity of the sun lessened, she caught a glimpse of the captivating warrior in armor. Her heart pounded as the hammer desperate to break free of her chest.              

             
Two weary horses bobbed their heads in a sort of nodding agreement that indeed they were home for a much needed rest. They were hitched to a tremendous wagon weighted by a mountain of golden treasures reaching high into the sky.

             
Aurea descended the front steps. The golden train at her back slid over the stairs gracefully. She stopped and offered her hand.

             
Maven quickly slipped from her horse. She hurried to the bottom steps with her arm extended. Her fingertips were first to make contact in that fleeting instant of touch. It caused a current of electricity to quiver throughout her body. Warmly, her hand was enveloped in Aurea's softness.

             
Their eyes met. They peered deeply into one another.

             
“Welcome home,” Aurea purred. She pulled Maven forward, guiding her into her arms. As she held the Queen closely, her eyes caught sight of the second wagon which was but a poor shadow to its younger sibling.

             
It was small and old. The wagon's spoils were feeble. Thick furs were draped across two rickety chests. However the locks upon the troves were very new and alluded to Aurea's observant eyes that they carried more than they seemed.

             
The Empress narrowed her eyes. Her flames rose within her pupils. She slowly seared the surface of the chests with her eyes.

             
Maven withdrew from Aurea's embrace. She peered up into the face lovingly looking down at her.

             
“Please,” Aurea purred, “go and greet your Queen.”

             
Maven's glorious smile was revealed to the world even as the majority of her face remained hidden. She hurried toward Salem then bowed graciously. “My Lady,” she voiced solemnly.

             
Salem's eyes welled with tears. Her hands extended to cup the face she longed to see. “Virtue be praised,” she spoke softly. “Our Champion is home.”

             
Cries rang out throughout the castle grounds.

             
Salem could only smile. She seductively took Maven's hand in hers. She gave a sensuous come-hither gaze which was not missed by those in attendance. Together, they moved into the castle.

             
The doors had only just closed behind them to the royal bedchamber before Salem pushed the helmet from her Mistress' head and embraced her tightly.

             
Maven smiled while holding Salem closely. She took a certain sense of comfort in the familiar softness of the woman's body.

             
“I'm so happy that you're home,” Salem whispered. “I'm so happy that you're safe! I was so worried, Mistress.”

             
Maven's hand rose tenderly to cradle the back of Maven's head. Gently she shushed the tearful beauty. “Shh, everything is all right. I am home. I am safe.”

             
“But what happened, my Lady?” Salem asked breathlessly. “What did you find?”

             
“Yes,” a voice suddenly said. Aurea stood with the doors behind her. She closed them at her back with a distinctive click. “What have you found?” she asked with a deadly quiet. She slithered seductively forward, her burning eyes never leaving Maven's gaze. “What wonders have you brought me?”

             
The Queen smiled with as much intensity as she saw simmering inside the Empress. “I have brought you the wisdom of the ancients.”

             
The dreamy air in Maven's words caused Aurea to look upon the blond with curious appreciation.

             
“Their magic is now our own,” Maven purred with a knowing air. All the while, the symbol dwelling unseen at her side throbbed with a heartbeat all its own, reminding her that Logos was with her.

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              Fireflies danced on a dreamy evening. All across the land, the people of Pyros celebrated. None celebrated more than the people of Whispering Winds. The expedition had returned and with it so too had the life of their province.

             
On this night of rejoicing, the castle gates had been opened to the people. Members of every house had donned their finest garments to attend Queen Maven's ball.

             
It was lost amidst that sea of splendor that Maven slipped away unseen. She sought out the solitary comfort of her library only to find that it was not as empty as she might have wished.

             
A man sat within a leather chair. His noble head was lowered while he read quietly.

             
Maven tilted her head as she regarded Donovan closely. “My Lord,” she greeted gently.

             
Donovan lifted his head. His face became extremely apologetic as he recognized Queen Maven. He closed the book in his hand, immediately beginning his apologies.

             
Maven raised her hand, calling for him to return to his seat. “I came to get away from the chaos just as you did.” She smiled. “Please...” She motioned graciously with her hand. “Continue reading.”

             
The Queen drew close to the rows of shelves lining the walls. Her fingertip ran along the spines of many books while perusing their titles. Her fingers gently clasped a book of prose. She took it with her to soothing window-seat.

             
As she read, Maven could feel the watchful eyes of the King upon her. She knew that he was peering out at her from behind his book.

             
“You are destined for Logos,” she said, at last breaking the silence.

             
Donovan nodded. He closed his book again, putting an end to the pretense of reading. “Yes,” he sighed.

             
“Do you know why you were chosen to lead this mission?” Maven asked. Nonchalantly, her fingers turned a page.

             
Donovan narrowed his eyes as he thought to his suspicions.

             
“Angelos is threatened by you. He whispers in Aurea's ear.”

             
Donovan's fist balled at this confirmation. “I knew it!” he hissed beneath his breath. “He's trying to set me up.”

             
“Yes,” Maven answered calmly. Her coolness startled the King. “Still,” she continued with an air of ease, “Aurea wants Logos and is determined to have it despite Angelos' desires to see you fail.”

             
Donovan could feel his feelings for Angelos worsening by the moment.

             
“If you fail, Aurea will simply continue to send wave after wave of soldiers until she has the Holy Land.”

             
“Then what do I do,” he asked, “if my death means so little?”

             
“You ensure that you live.”

             
“But I've heard the stories told by your men, read your accounts,” he argued. “You only just survived the expedition. How am I to lead an army five times yours into this land and hope to be successful?”

             
“You have the knowledge of our experiences to help guide you.” Maven sighed in boredom. “That will ensure you survive.”

             
Donovan rose from his chair. He could feel his heart thundering inside his chest. He moved to stand closer to the windows and to the beautiful blond affectionately taking in each line of text. He dropped his voice conspiratorially despite his great desire to raise it in panicked frustration. “Lady Maven, you and I both know that if Angelos is to be proven wrong, I cannot merely survive the land. I must rule it in Aurea's name. Otherwise, he will rise as her trusted counsel. He will be a threat...” His voice lowered all the more as he stooped his head to find Maven's gaze. “To all of us.”

             
Maven stopped. She lifted her piercing green eyes from the poignant words painted across each page. Closing the book with an echoing thud, she witnessed the true magnitude of Donovan's fear. “What do you suggest we do?”

             
“Is there nothing in your studies of the old ways which could help me?”