Mrythdom: Game of Time (27 page)

A hushed murmur rose slowly from the stands. The ringmaster raised his massive arms to placate the crowds. “Have no fear, this woman is indeed and elf, but if you don’t believe it, look for yourselves!” At that, one of the guards beside the woman yanked her hair back behind her ears, revealing their vaguely-pointed tips.

Now the crowds erupted with relieved laughter and cries of astonishment, but Aurelius frowned. So it was fine to kill an elf, but not a mermaid? Apart from the woman’s ears, he couldn’t see the difference between them, nor why she should be condemned to die in the ring. Aurelius leaned over to ask Lashyla, “What did that woman do to be sent into the ring?”

Lashyla shrugged. “She is an elf.”

“So she’s done nothing to deserve this? At least the old man is being punished for stealing.”

Lashyla laughed prettily. “The queen stole something from
him
!” Aurelius peripherally noted Gabrian’s gaze turn their way. His pale blue eyes held a keen interest. Lashyla went on, “We just tell the crowd what it wants to hear. No one wants to see the innocent die.”

The announcer droned on, but Aurelius wasn’t listening. “So you make up lies about them and use those as reasons to kill them? That’s much better!”

Lashyla scowled. “I already told you, Aurelius, it is how it must be. Would you rather everyone died? Better a few should die so that the rest might live.”

“There has to be another way. . . .” Aurelius replied. “Maybe if you would content yourselves to find mates among your own population rather than continually adding to it by capturing men from the land, you wouldn’t have to worry so much about your growing numbers!”

Lashyla sighed. “You don’t have to understand our ways, just accept them,” she said, patting his hand. “Watch the challenges. Stop troubling yourself with such serious matters.” And almost as though someone had flicked a switch in his brain, Aurelius felt his ire and outrage drifting away as his thoughts began to swim in a dreamy pool of contentment. He knew there was a reason he should fight that feeling, but as he tried to remember his objections, they only drifted further away, and soon he was sitting slumped in his chair with a blissed-out look on his face.

It was in that state of uncaring ease that the first challenge began. Aurelius saw a frightened old man take up a trident with a trembling arm and anxiously search the coral mounds for his golden-haired opponent. The old man couldn’t see her from his vantage point, but looking down on the ring from above Aurelius could see them both. The woman was creeping around behind him with a dagger in her hand. Through the rosy lenses of his dreamy, carefree-state of mind, it seemed oddly comical when the woman raced up behind that old man and slit his throat. That man fell to the sand, blood bubbling from a dark gash in his throat while the crowds cheered and Aurelius grinned. He felt his elation rise as Lashyla called out a shout of grudging congratulations to the elvish woman.

The announcer’s voice returned, but the words didn’t connect to sense in Aurelius’s brain. His eyelids grew heavy, and that warm, pleasant feeling was spreading, making him feel like he was floating. Before the giant announcer had even stopped speaking, Aurelius fell into a deep sleep. He mercifully missed the next two fights, but he dreamt of carnage all the same. The only difference was that in his dreams, he was the one in the ring being killed over and over again, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t wake up or escape his faceless, murderous opponents which came for him over and over again.

*   *   *

As the second challenge ended with a decapitating blow from a sword, Lashyla spared a glance to see Aurelius’s reaction. Sometimes new comers were shocked by the violent displays in the ring, but Aurelius was sound asleep, stirring only now and then and moaning softly in his sleep. Lashyla frowned. Perhaps she had calmed him too much. It was always hard to tell with humans how much was too much, and she was still learning how to control her pheromone secretions. Apparently she’d given him such a heavy dose whilst trying to silence his arguments that she’d silenced him altogether. She looked away.

Oh well.

The third pair of challengers were being brought into the ring. These two looked more evenly matched, but one never knew. Skill and cunning would often go much further than size or strength.

As she watched the opponents stalking around the ring in search of hidden weapons which might give one an advantage over the other, she became aware of the old one staring at her, and she felt her skin crawl. Was he gazing at her with desire? Disgustedly, she turned to him, “What?”

His wrinkly face stretched into a smile. “You said the queen stole something from the man who died in the first challenge. Do you remember what it was?”

Lashyla frowned in confusion. Why was he asking her this? She decided it didn’t matter the reason, he was distracting her from her evening’s entertainment. She looked away and waved her hand dismissively. “Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

She gave no further reply, hoping he would give up and leave her in peace, but his gaze remained fixed on her and she grew uncomfortable once more at his scrutiny. She flicked her eyes up and down his ugly, shriveled body and sneered. “Have you no shame? Your attentions are repulsive. Do not tempt me to send you to the ring before your time.”

His smile broadened. “You
will
tell me what the queen stole.”

Lashyla’s eyebrows rose and she was about to order him killed for his insolence. Then she noticed that the old man’s lips were moving, but the words were whispered and indistinct. She frowned, struggling to hear. Suddenly, her mind grew blank and she gasped as a frightening pressure built up behind her eyes. She felt what seemed like a cold hand digging around inside her head. It went on for an excruciating time. Her mouth opened in a soundless scream, but at last she felt the pressure leave and she slumped in her seat. She could barely summon the strength to sit upright let alone speak, but she felt a rising outrage directed at the old man which gave her strength. Somehow she knew that he had just done something horrible to her, and she was about to order him thrown into the ring at once. Yet even as the words to seal his fate formed on her lips, she felt a panicky swell of confusion. . . . and with it, she began to wonder why she was angry and why she was looking at that repulsive old man. Embarrassed to be caught staring at the old man as though he held some perverse appeal for her, she quickly looked away and focused on the current challenge, working hard to suppress a shiver.

She completely missed the slow smile spreading across Gabrian’s face.

When Aurelius awoke, he thought he was blind. He sat up with a scream, which died as soon as the blanket fell away from his face. Someone had tucked him in overzealously, covering even his face. As he looked around the room, dimly lit by glowing coral and barnacles he realized that covering a person's eyes would be the only way to shut out that light.

He noticed that he was on the couch in his quarters, as though he had never left with Lashyla. Aurelius’s eyes narrowed in confusion. Hadn’t he just been seated in the stands above the ring? His memories were blurry and indistinct, as though seen through a thick fog, but he felt sure he’d been there. . . . and that he’d witnessed something horrible. He frowned, trying to remember. . . .

A vivid splash of blood bubbling from an old man’s neck flickered through his mind’s eye, and he gasped. He’d witnessed an old man coldly murdered for a crime that he hadn’t committed. Worse, for a crime where
he
had been the victim, and now he was dead to make room for a more beautiful member of society.

It was beyond despicable.

Though he tried, Aurelius couldn’t remember anything else from the arena. He realized he must have fallen asleep after the first challenge.
Did I faint?
he wondered. He hoped not. Despite his aversion to all the senseless violence, he didn’t think he would be so deeply affected by it as to faint.

Running a hand through his sleep-matted hair, Aurelius stood up and went to the viewport in his quarters. His gaze found the fields of glowing seaweed below and he spent a moment idly studying the fronds waving in the night-black water.

“You are awake.”

Aurelius turned to the gravelly voice and saw Reven walking into the room. The wolf man was stark naked again, but between the dim light in the room and Reven’s hirsute body, he was at least reasonably covered.

“What happened? How did I get here?”

“You fell asleep. We were forced to carry you here.”

“How long have I been asleep?”

“A number of hours. I cannot be certain, but I think it is now the middle of the night.”

Aurelius nodded. “I suppose I needed the sleep. Where is Gabrian?”

“He left without saying where he was going.”

“No one tried to stop him?”

Reven heaved his massive shoulders in a shrug. “It is not my place to do so.”

Aurelius shook his head and gestured vaguely to the door. “I mean didn’t the guards try to stop him?”

“I don’t know, but he has not returned.”

“Maybe I should try to find him. He’s going to get in trouble wandering around alone.”

“And you would not if you left to do the same?”

“Not if I ask for permission first. One of the guards could accompany me.”

Reven gave no reply, but his gaze wandered to the viewports and lingered there absently. Aurelius studied him, wondering what the wolf man was thinking about. Then Reven heaved a deep sigh, and gave voice to his thoughts, “This place is strange. The females stink like fish and flowers. I can hardly breathe . . . and there is nowhere to go to escape the smell,” he added with obvious dismay.

Aurelius stifled a laugh and settled for a grin. “Then I guess you don’t find them appealing?”

Reven turned to him with a wrinkled nose. “From a distance perhaps. I would die of asphyxiation before one could tempt me to her bed.”

Now Aurelius did laugh. “Well, at least one of us isn’t bound to get into much trouble before we leave.”

Reven snorted. “The old one seems unaffected as well. Only you behave strangely.”

Aurelius nodded. “Apparently they attract us based on their own attraction, so if none of the maidens have found old Wrinkles attractive, he won’t feel any particular desire for them either.”

Reven snorted and looked away with a grimace. “Then he is fortunate.”

Aurelius cocked his head curiously. “Has some maiden taken an interest in you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Aurelius laughed again and clapped the giant on the shoulder. “Okay, then, I’m going to go look for Wrinkles before he gets himself into trouble, will you be okay here by yourself?”

“If no maiden comes to waft her scent around me, I will be fine.”

“You could always plug your nose. . . . might be worth it.”

“I would be as one who is blind.”

“Some would say that too much time alone could do the same.”

Reven’s bushy eyebrows lifted. “I do not understand.”

Aurelius smiled and shook his head. “It was a joke, big guy.” With that, Aurelius turned and started for the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
I hope,
he added silently to himself.

*   *   *

Aurelius arrived at the door to the queen’s quarters, and the guards standing there moved suddenly to bar his way.

“What are you doing here, vestal?” the nearest one asked.

“I’ve come to see our most beauteous queen.”

“Has she requested you?”

“She will not be displeased to see me. Tell her that Aurelius the Elder is here.”

The guards looked to one another in bemusement, then one of them turned to knock at the door he was guarding. They waited a few minutes, until eventually the door was opened by a man with long, dark hair and strong features which were belied by his wounded-puppy expression and his tremulous voice. “Yes?”

“A vestal is here to see the queen.”

The man’s features flickered with confusion, then his gaze alit on Aurelius, and his expression hardened. “The queen is expecting no one at this hour. Go away, vestal.”

Aurelius smiled. “Perhaps you were not told that she is expecting me. She would be very displeased to hear that you turned me away. I would advise that you tell her I’m here—just in case.” Aurelius’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he saw that wounded-puppy look crawl back onto the man’s face. “I will tell her, but you will suffer if she is not pleased to hear of you. What is your name?”

“Tell her, Aurelius the Elder has come to see her.”

The man frowned and disappeared inside the room. A short moment later the dark-haired man returned, his expression angry but resigned. “Come with me,” he said, and the guards moved to let Aurelius pass. The door was shut behind him with a resounding
clang
.

Aurelius was led through the queen’s quarters to her bedroom. Another pair of guards stood there blocking the doors. The dark-haired man made a gesture to them, and one of the guards moved to open the doors, while the other leaned close to Aurelius and whispered, “This is not wise, Aurelius. Take it from a friend.”

“A friend?” Aurelius asked skeptically.

“Don’t you remember me?”

Aurelius’s eyes narrowed in thought as the doors swung wide.

“It’s Martanel. . . .” the guard supplied.

“Ah, of course.” Aurelius nodded. “Don’t trouble yourself, Martanel; I know what I’m doing.” With that, he followed the dark-haired man into the queen’s bedroom.

“I hope so,” the guard replied softly.

The queen lay waiting for him, propped up by a multitude of pillows. She looked sleepy, but otherwise pleased to see him. “Welcome—Aurelius the Elder, is it? I must say that I suspected it since you arrived, but is it true?”

Aurelius stopped at the foot of her bed and bowed low. “It is indeed, most beauteous queen.”

“Incredible. . . .” she said, shaking her head. “I will hear more of this, but first, why have you come?”

“I came, oh beautiful queen, because you are too stunning for me to resist any longer. No maiden in all Meria can hold my eye as you can. You have captivated me and stolen my heart.”

The queen’s eyebrows lifted and she regarded him curiously for a long moment before rising slowly and gracefully from her bed, the blankets falling away from her body to reveal that she was completely naked. Aurelius’s eyes sparkled with amusement as the queen covered the space between them with easy, confident steps as though he commanded her desire and not the other way around.

She reached him and pressed her supple body against his. Her fingers danced lightly across his chest as she gazed intensely up at him. Her lips were mere inches from his own. She smiled and said, “I alone decide with whom I will mate, and when.” With that, she drifted slowly away, brushing by him. Aurelius turned to watch as she walked up to the viewports and stood gazing down on her city, the lights of a thousand reefs sparkling back at her. The dark-haired man who had escorted Aurelius into the room stood in the entrance smirking, as though he’d known that Aurelius would get nowhere by taking the initiative with
his
queen.

Aurelius ignored that petty jealousy and gazed intensely at the queen’s back, not moving to join her at the viewport as she clearly hoped he would, like a dog tugged along at the end of his leash, but rather willing her to return to him. A woman like the queen, for all her desire to dominate, would only be attracted and ultimately seduced by strength and independence, the very thing which she sapped from all of her mates. Knowing this, Aurelius waited in silence for her to grow bored of her games.

“Do you know why I am the queen?” she asked, almost rhetorically.

“Because you are the most beautiful mermaid in all of Meria.”

She turned to him and flashed a pretty smile. Her naked body tugged at him, but he ignored that surge of desire and stayed where he was. It worked perfectly. She began walking back to him, drawn, as though she were the one on a leash. “I am indeed more beautiful than any other in Meria, but that is not the reason I am queen.” She stopped a few feet from him, clearly wanting him to come the rest of the way to her. “I am queen because I don’t tolerate disloyalty. Those who pledge themselves to me do so for life. If a maiden steals you from me, I will steal you back, and then I will have you killed. Knowing this, would you still willingly join me in my bed?”

Aurelius fought the triumphant smile threatening to burst onto his face. “Yes.”

She held out her hand to him. “Then come.”

And he let her lead him to her bed. At some point the queen called for witnesses, and the dark-haired man opened the doors to usher the guards inside. Once the two guardsmen were there to watch, the dark-haired man took his leave, clearly eaten up with jealousy.

It was a long, long night. By the end of it, Aurelius lay back staring at the coral-crusted ceiling with a self-satisfied grin. The queen lay beside him, exhausted and comatose, her arm draped across his chest. He spared her a glance and studied her contented face, those supple ruby lips even now turned up toward his, as she were seeking another kiss from him. And it was then that he knew he had her heart, capricious and cruel as that heart might be.

But she did not have his.