Prince of Wrath (23 page)

He kissed her throat and she sighed and pressed against him, beginning to writhe sensually. Astiras felt his loins swell and he began unclipping his armour. There was no other thought now other than to ravage this stunning female in his arms.

As his hands and lips ran over her, Metila smiled, her eyes still closed. She could make any man desire her, it was just a matter of finding the right herbs and potions, and applying them in the right places. So for the Emperor, she had gambled on covering her hair and skin with the oil of the potion she’d mixed that afternoon, and it had worked. It usually did.

In the next room Teduskis and Thetos sat in hardwood chairs, with cushions stuffed with feathers as a comforting contrast to the rigidness of the wood. Teduskis, in particular, appreciated it after the last few days in the saddle. “I don’t recall when you found that woman,” the bodyguard said, picking up his mug of ale Thetos had poured for him. “After you got wounded, you say?”

Thetos had changed his hook. The one he now had was a curious shaped device, not a hook as such, but a half-claw. The mug he had was his personal one, with a wire ridge instead of a handle, and he used the claw to catch underneath the ridge, thus lifting up the mug. He drank a mouthful of ale, wiped his mouth and beard with the back of his hand, and belched. “You all thought I was going to die – and to be honest so did I. When you all moved off to attack the next village, I was left to perish. The surgeons had no idea how to stop the poison, apart from chopping my hand off.” He looked wryly at his artificial extension. “That was when Metila turned up. She’d waited until the army had gone and then, along with other Bragalese, came into the village. You know the story – flee to the hills and then return once the danger has passed.

“So, there I was, half coherent and out of my mind, and I see this woman suddenly appear before me. Why she didn’t cut my throat I don’t know, but she saw me as an opportunity to get out of the mess the province was in, I suppose. She tended me and used some very odd medicine, I can tell you! Half the time I felt as though I was floating above my body, looking down on what she was doing. I can’t tell you some of the procedures she used, but they were weird, believe me!”

“And saved your life.”

Thetos nodded. “So I took her in, as I guessed she hoped. I was finished as a soldier, as you all knew. None of you came back to check on me.”

Teduskis shrugged. “We had other fights to fight, and we’d seen to that village anyway. It wasn’t long after that we were asked to disband.”

“I know! I couldn’t believe it when I was told.”

“And that was when the boss got your message. Where were you – Frasia somewhere?”

Thetos nodded. “Couldn’t go to Kastan City, what with those fools running the show there, and they didn’t care for wounded soldiers anyway. I hear most of them were thrown onto the streets as homeless beggars. So I wrote to the boss, as you call him, and he tells me to come here and take care of those running the city. Metila was with me by my side all the time, and I had some of my old friends from the war, so we rode here and got in with a nice piece of trickery.”

Teduskis settled more comfortably in his seat. “I’ve never found out exactly what happened. The Emperor has kept fairly quiet about it. I’m eager to know, if you don’t mind telling me.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Thetos shrugged. “It was fun.” Thetos went back four years to the evening he and his small band approached Turslenka, under the rule of one of the Duras family. It had contributed nothing to the war and had declared the border with Bragal closed, refusing to allow anyone in or out. Thetos, Metila and seven men had ridden from Frasia, however, and so had by-passed any army checkpoints.

They had turned up at the gates, which were shut and barred. Thetos had walked forward on his equine and shouted up to the guard officer to let them in. “We have come from Kastan City on the orders of the Emperor!”

“What orders?” the captain had snapped back irritably, leaning out of the gatehouse window directly above the gates. “You look like army!”

“Does this look like the fucking army you moron?” Thetos had indicated the diminutive Metila. She came alongside Thetos, dressed in a simple one-piece outfit that went down only to her thighs.

“I suppose not – is she a whore?”

“Whore my arse,” Thetos had roared, “she’s the Emperor’s Healer.”

The captain had leaned out further, taking a good look at Metila, half-seen in the torchlight flickering from the battlements and gatehouse. “Why is she here?”

“Plague,” Thetos had said, then had looked around furtively, “on the quiet, there’s an epidemic raging out there in Bragal and the Emperor doesn’t want it coming this way, so he’s sent her here with us as the escort. She’s got orders to tend the governor here.”

The captain had been dubious, so Thetos had offered to allow only her in as proof of their veracity, and they would wait outside. The captain had consented, allowing the woman in only. Metila had dismounted the moment she had passed the gates and had been met by the captain. “Where are your orders, woman?” he had demanded.

By his side had been two more men, one who had taken the equine’s reins, and the other cradling a crossbow. He had been getting a good look at Metila’s breasts, pushing up and out of her very tight dress, which had been what she had intended. She had reached up under skirt. “I give you orders,” she had said, smiling. “I keep them safe!”

“I bet you do,” the captain had grinned, looking down at the expanse of flesh on show. “You got anything else down there, darling?” he’d said.

“Yes,” Metila had said, bringing forth her knife. With her first swipe she’d laid open the captain’s throat. He’d gone staggering back, clutching his spurting new mouth, sinking to his knees, and with her second had plunged the point of her knife down into the junction of the neck and shoulder of the crossbowman. He’d screamed, dropping the weapon, and had turned a half-circle, red blood gushing through his fingers. He’d toppled to the ground. The last man had released the reins and had desperately gone for his own sword, but Metila had ducked under the equine and come up from an unexpected angle and direction. The first the soldier had known about it was when her knife had entered his groin and gone up deep into his abdomen. The pain had been like nothing he’d known, and had squealed and had rolled onto the floor, curled up into a ball.

The three men taken care of, Metila had unbarred the gates and swung them open. That had been the signal for the others to come thundering through, swords drawn, ready to cut down anyone stupid enough – or unlucky enough – to get in their way. Metila had stood back, then shut the gates and re-barred them before following in their wake.

“Hey,” Teduskis sat upright in alarm, “you mean the Emperor is in that room alone with a woman that can do that?”

Thetos held out his one good hand in a placatory manner. “Hold still, Teduskis, she’s not a danger to him, believe me.”

Teduskis shook his head, getting up out of his chair. “I’m supposed to look after him and if she’s as good at killing as you’ve just told me, I’ve got to make sure there’s no risk to his life!” He strode to the door and pulled it open. His eyes widened at the sight of Astiras pinning Metila to the floor, driving hard into the moaning woman. She was raking his back, drawing blood from deep scores, her heels drumming against the small of his back in delight. He shut the door hurriedly, shocked.

Thetos looked into the far corner of the room, his mug in his claw. “I did try to tell you,” he said dully.

The bodyguard came back slowly to his chair and sank into it. “He was like a man possessed,” he said in disbelief. “What if the Empress finds out? She’ll go mad!”

“Who’s going to tell? I won’t, that’s for certain! Metila would be punished, and so would I! Forget the two of us here; will you blurt it out? You’d lose your position for sure, wouldn’t you?”

Teduskis nodded. “If anyone tells her, it’ll be him, and I doubt he will. He’d lose so much and plunge the Empire into another crisis. She’d probably disown him and as a result the two step-children, Jorqel and Amne, and seek to promote her own two children instead. We’d have a right old civil war, unless Jorqel does the only possible thing to prevent that.”

“Kill the two young princes?”

Teduskis nodded. “And he won’t want that – I’m not sure Jorqel would, but he’s in line to succeed and ambition can corrupt even the fairest of hearts, doesn’t it? Oh sweet heavens, why did you allow this to happen, governor?”

Thetos hung his head and was silent for a moment. “Metila is like nobody I’ve met before; she has this power in her, I find it irresistible. She’s tough, strong, yet,” he looked up and opened and closed his hand with a helpless gesture, “vulnerable. She needs to be loved, in her own odd way. So do I,” he said, throwing back the contents of his mug and grimaced.

“The thought of the Emperor rutting her next door is hurting you, isn’t it?”

Thetos nodded. “If he wasn’t who he is, I’d not let it happen. But he’s the Emperor, and who can say no to him?”

“The Empress,” Teduskis said softly. And Amne, he added in his mind. “But yes, I see what you mean. She must have wanted to do this with him – doesn’t that make you angry with her?”

“She’s Bragalese,” Thetos said by way of an answer. “They don’t care who they hump. It’s a way of life for them. Power, relationships, friendships, alliances, they all tend to get sealed with sex. The more violent the greater the friendship. And, may the gods have mercy on me, she’s doing this for my benefit, too.”

“What? How so?”

“She thinks by sealing this – alliance – with the Emperor, he’ll look more favourably on me. She’s using her body to promote me higher in his estimates.”

“Oh. She must love you, too.”

Thetos nodded, his eyes glistening. He looked away, unable to speak about it anymore. Teduskis stood up and patted the governor on the shoulder. “I’ll go check on the men’s billets. You need some time to yourself, old man. She’s a good woman, Thetos; one you won’t find very often. You’re a lucky man.”

The governor said nothing, and remained staring into space long after Teduskis had gone.

The next morning Astiras appeared, slowly walking into the room where Thetos had spent a restless night, snatching sleep here and there, but his mind was too much in turmoil to sleep for very long. He looked tired. Teduskis had got some sleep so looked better, and said nothing as the Emperor made his way to a spare chair and sat in it awkwardly.

“Get any sleep, sire?” Teduskis finally ventured.

“I must have,” Astiras said gruffly, “although I can’t remember a thing about it. I’ve got a head that is trying to burst apart. Did I take any alcohol last night?”

Teduskis looked at Thetos who showed no expression. “No, sire, unless Metila gave you some.”

Astiras grunted. “Not as I can recall. Where’s breakfast? I’m famished? I could eat an equine!”

Thetos stood up and called Metila. The woman came out of the room, dressed in her usual day outfit of a one-piece dress that reached to just above her knees, a fashion that no Kastanian woman would consider as being decent. She smiled and bowed to Astiras who locked eyes with her for a moment then she looked down. “You called? You want?” she asked Thetos.

“Yes, breakfast and hot drinks, you slut. Make it quick, too!”

Metila smiled and glided through the room, watched silently by the three men. After she’d gone out Teduskis turned to the governor. “Is she normally like this?”

Thetos nodded. “She’s a handful.”

“You can say that again! By the gods, she’d wear me out.”

“I can think of worse fates, Teduskis.” Thetos saw how Astiras was favouring not sitting back in the chair. “Sire, is there anything we can do to help your discomfort?”

“No!” Astiras snapped, then waved a hand to take away an offence in his tone. “Your woman has already treated me, and she assures me everything will be fine in a day or two. She knows her medicines.”

Teduskis locked looks with Thetos. Astiras clearly did know what had gone on in the night, but was faking not remembering. If that was how he wished to play it, so be it. Thetos cleared his throat. “Sire, you wished to employ the regulars on the campaign against the rebels in Kalkos?”

“Yes, both companies. Are they ready to be put under my command? I want to review them.”

Thetos bowed. “I alerted them when I got your message, sire. You wish me to come with you or remain here?”

“I wish you to remain here, and begin setting up a system of advance warnings to the east. Rumours are that Venn will be moving on Epros before long and if they do conquer that region, they’ll be on your borders.” Astiras winced as a throbbing pain went up his back. That she-canine had raked his flesh well and good. He’d been mortified when he’d woken up, finding his blood all over the sheets and in fact they had stuck to his back. It had been painful but he’d been damned if he’d shown her any of that as she peeled them from his back. He’d had one Bragalese woman in the past, a distant memory now but he recalled she’d had sex with him like some wild mating kroll. Bragalese women were famously passionate and Metila had been no different. No wonder they bred like rodents.

Metila had persuaded him not to worry and that his wounds would be cured in a few days. She’d quickly mixed up a paste with cold water and spread it on his scratches. He’d hissed a few times but Metila had carried on, chanting some obscure words as she did so. He wondered what they were, as it wasn’t the common Bragalese he’d learned over the years. He didn’t ask, not wishing really to delve into what would probably be an incomprehensible reply. The woman had been very submissive to him, prostrating herself before him again, and Astiras had snapped at her to stand. He noted how it had aroused her, talking to her in that manner, and guessed she preferred strength and domination to anything else. Very odd. But there again, who could understand the workings of another’s mind, especially if they were from a different culture?