QueensQuest (14 page)

“We have to send the taqqa back.” Storne shaded his eyes
from the violent light bouncing off the white-gold sands, which stretched
toward a faraway horizon. Behind us, the taqqa lowed and panted in frustration
and suffering. He continued, “It’s too hot for them here, and getting enough
water for them isn’t possible.”

The sky above was a hard, stony blue, like a lapis necklace
my mother used to wear. No hint of moisture softened the air. I wetted my lips,
cracked from the unnaturally dry climate. “Will you send Maersan with them?”

“Yes, and most of my men, to tend to the herd.”

“They are welcome to stay at Windrush or Remarck until our
return.”

“Thank you.” He smiled at me. “I hope you will have lawns
left. They are hungry beasts. May we borrow horses?”

“To be sure. How many?”

“I will keep with me only a half-dozen men, I think. My
warriors suffer also in the cruel heat, and I am not afraid of these Children
of Light. They may conceal secrets, as we have discussed, but they aren’t
fighters.” He glanced at me. “The desert is a prize ripe for the taking, but
who can be bothered?”

I shrugged, glad that Storne had no plans for conquest. “An
old Progenitor poet wrote ‘better to reign in hell than to serve in heaven’.”

After Maersan and a large contingent of Darkness’ warriors
left with the taqqa, the remainder of the three retinues approached New Medina.
All of us, including Storne’s remaining warriors, wore the loose, light
clothing of the DesertDwellers. Scarves and hats protected our faces. I could
identify my people by the silver sigils worked into their tunics, my guards by
their weapons. Storne’s warriors also wore swords. The Children of Light, not
to be outdone, sheathed their scimitars in beautifully worked leather
scabbards. I wondered if they concealed other, more advanced weapons beneath
their robes.

New Medina gleamed white and gold in the cruel sun, and as
we neared, I learned the meaning of color, for the city walls were clad in
bright mosaics. They glistened in the sun in amazing geometric patterns of
green, red and blue. The sun brought out true color in a way the Shadows never
did, and I could not rip my gaze away from the vividness. To see such color was
almost worth enduring the heat, which felt so intense that it seemed
impossible… And yet, we existed in it, walked through the dry, burning air,
breathed it into our tortured lungs.

We entered through a great stone archway in a parade, our
horses kicking up dust and sand. Nevertheless, the townspeople, the
DesertDwellers, greeted us, lining our route, cheering. All were clad in the
same kind of loose, light robe that Kaldir wore, many with headscarves
protecting their faces and heads from the piercing and constant sun, burning
bright against the harsh blue sky. The three moons sailed across the heavens,
providing occasional shade as one passed in front of the sun.

Behind the people I could see massive triangular structures,
which I learned were called pyramides, constructed of huge stone blocks. Pale
limestone, they gleamed, reflecting more heat.

At the head of the procession with Kaldir, I stopped at a
high table, where the mayor of New Medina sat surrounded by the DesertDwellers’
nobility. As they stood and uncovered their heads to greet me, I had to conceal
a gasp.

There were perhaps fifteen dignitaries, half female, the
others male. Several of them were, like the mayor, deformed. And though of
varying ages, several of the men bore a distinct, even eerie, resemblance to
Kaldir.

Could he have so many relatives? Strange, since a low
birthrate was characteristic of all areas of Janus. And they didn’t look like
Kaldir’s brothers or cousins….they looked like his
twins.

What strange magic was afoot? This was the secret that the
Children of Light concealed, I knew, and I promised myself I would pierce the
veil clouding the DesertDwellers before I left Lightside.

I stammered my way through the lengthy ceremony, trying to
hide my amazement. Unfortunately, Storne was not so tactful. After the ceremony
had ended and the crowd was dispersing, he cornered Kaldir.

“By the great silver oak, what is going on?” he demanded.

“What?” Kaldir affected ignorance.

“You did not mention that you Lightsiders are born into
litters, like wolven pups.”

“We are not.” Kaldir’s tone was wooden. “We are exactly like
you.”

He is not a skilled liar,
I thought. I moved in and
used my sweetest voice. “I believe that what Prince Storne means to say is that
we are surprised to see that you have such a large family, though I do remember
that you mentioned to me once that you have so many children you have lost
count.”

He seemed to relax a little, which was what I wanted. “That
is so. Birthrates are as low here as in the Shadowlands, and since I, um…have
been approved as a, um…provider, must do my duty.”

“Approved as a provider. What does that mean?” Storne’s
voice and manner continued truculent, and he was close enough to strike Kaldir,
as were his warriors. Though few, they were doughty, tested in battle and
fearsome.

“Of, um…seed cells.”

“A provider of…of cells? I don’t understand,” I said.

Kaldir gestured upward. “The sun’s radiation is intense and
few can bear children in the normal way. Thus we take cells from the best of us
and cultivate them. Like plants.”

“So your seed, it is fertile?” I asked.

“Oh yes.” He hastened to reassure me. “I have been tested
many times.”

“How, if you have never impregnated a woman?” Storne sounded
contemptuous. “Children are not plants.”

“I don’t have to explain myself or our ways to you or
anyone.” Kaldir’s tolerance had reached its limits and his guards crowded
close. Some drew their curved, viciously sharp scimitars. Maia leaped in front
of me while Rall, Parron and the others covered my sides and back.

I shoved Maia aside, but not too far, keeping hold of her
tunic. “Both of you, stop it.”

Kaldir and Storne turned and looked at me.

“Order your warriors back. Both of you. Now.” The heat had sharpened
my temper and I was in no mood to deal with any foolishness. I was furious with
Storne. After our conversation at Windrush on this very matter, why had he
spoken out of turn?

No one moved, then Storne and Kaldir both retreated, waving
their hands at their guards to stand down.

I relaxed. “That’s better. Prince Storne, please attend me
after first moonset. Lord Kaldir?” I beckoned to him, and he took my arm to
lead me to my quarters.

I did not discuss the queer resemblance of many Lightsiders
to Kaldir, wishing to lull him into complacency on the issue, if Storne would
allow me. Instead, I chattered of inconsequential matters as we walked, with
both Kaldir’s and my personal guards accompanying us.

However, Kaldir brought up the subject. “Queen Audryn, I
hope that the matter of the cloning has not affected my nation’s suit.”

“Your nation’s suit? I had hoped that the situation had
grown more personal.” I squeezed his elbow.

“You seem to lack Prince Storne’s prejudices.”

“Prince Storne is not a Shadowlander. We are famous for our
tolerance of others’ personal foibles. But you call the process of regeneration
cloning?”

“Yes. I provide cells and they are grown into exact
duplicates of, um…me. You could see the, um…less fortunate among us.”

“Like the mayor.”

“Yes. The sun’s intense radiation not only lowers the birthrate
but causes malformations. So we need the clones.”

“And that is why you are not sure how many progeny you have
begotten.” I kept my voice calm but inside I thrummed with excitement. This was
one of the secrets we had come so far to discover. Only here, in his own realm,
could Kaldir be forced to give up the information, for it could scarcely be
concealed with so many of the…what had he called them? Clones. Yes, that was
it. So many of his clones were around that he could no longer hide.

“Yes. And the portrait at Windrush…”

“Yes?” I hoped I sounded casual but this was of most
importance to me.
 “That is one of, um…me. Or, rather I am one of him.”

“So the DesertDwellers have been using clones of the same
stock for generations?”

“Yes.” His chest swelled with visible pride. “I, and those
exactly like me, have served our people well.”

“So you are genetically identical to my four-times
great-grandfather.”

“Yes.”

I kept my hand on Kaldir’s elbow but my guts were roiling.
My decision was made, for nothing would induce me to mate with the functional
equivalent of my ancestor.

* * * * *

The pyramide my party had been assigned was blissfully cool,
for the stone blocks constructing it were each a foot thick, providing
insulation from the sun. The dim interior pleasantly paralleled the environment
of my home while gauzy white hangings softened the angles of my room.

When Kaldir left, I collapsed on one of the uncomfortable
stone slabs used as beds. By the three moons, I was so exhausted from the day
that the flat, hard surface felt good.

I wanted to rest, but there was still business to conduct.
“Why did Storne challenge Kaldir?” I demanded of Maia. Jumping to my feet, I
strode the length of the oddly shaped room. Its walls sloped inward to an
alarming degree, for it was on an upper floor of the pyramide that had been
given to me for my personal use.

She grabbed me a moment before I would have bumped my head.
I was so angry with Storne and afraid of the secret the LightDwellers had
concealed that I was careless. “I don’t know,” she said, and went to one of my
trunks to unpack.

“His beliefs, perhaps,” I said thoughtfully, remembering
Storne’s rescue of the taqqa and his embrace of the silver oak. “The
DarkDwellers revere nature. I am disgusted by the thought of mating with my
great-grandfather, but to Storne—”

“To Storne, cloning may be sacrilege, but his overreaction
was most foolish.”

“Yes. Despite my pleasant conversation with Kaldir, he is on
his guard.”

Her lips tightened. “I doubt we will easily learn more about
the Lightsiders’ secrets.”

I swung around to face her. “Is there more, do you think?”

“When Storne confronted Kaldir, some of Kaldir’s men drew
weapons of a sort I have not before seen.”

“Really? I saw the scimitars—”

“They were the most visible, yes, but some reached into
their robes to grasp small boxes.”

“I have heard rumor of such weapons, like those the
Progenitors carried.” I resumed my pacing. “They are supposed to produce some
sort of fire that injures, even kills their enemies.”

She sucked in a breath.

“Their reproductive technology—this cloning—is far more
advanced than anything we have, not that we would do something so unnatural and
disgusting. I like our solution much better.”

“Sex, sex and more sex.” She laughed.

I grinned. “Yes. The more we do it the more babies we get.”
I swore, and she raised a brow, for I rarely used obscenities. “I am sorry.”
Slumping on my rocky bed, I passed a hand over my brow. “But where is Storne?”

But Storne did not arrive for many hours. Was he angry with me
for my peremptory tone? I had basically ordered both lords to cease their
wrangling, so sure of myself and my authority. Was I becoming power-mad?

So be it. Both the DarkDwellers and the Children of Light
had to petition me for substances they needed to survive, for I was Queen of
Shadow and Holder of the Balance.

The unrelenting sun continued to beat on our pyramide, but
when I sensed evening’s approach, I sent Maia to find Storne as well as to
ferret out any other information she could derive. “Don’t be seen,” I instructed
her.

“Easily enough accomplished.” She whipped a gauzy robe
around her slim body and draped a scarf over her hair, which was lightening to
silver as I watched. She passed the cloth’s end across her face, concealing her
features. She seemed to shrink inside the swaths of fabric, giving the
appearance of an older lady. Winking over her shoulder at me, she left, with a
smile for Rall and Parron, who stood guard outside my door.

When Storne finally showed up, he was bundled from head to
toe in Lightsider garments that were brown with dust.

“Where have you been?” I practically shouted at him.

He raised his brows at my tone. “We’re not yet married,
Audryn, and I won’t wed a shrew.”

I paced, swallowed my pride, and said, “I am sorry, but I
was worried. I even sent Maia out to look for you—”

“We encountered each other, so I returned.” He sat on my
slab. “Is there water to wash?”

“Of course.” I went to the door and ordered Rall to find a
servant. In the meantime, Storne started to strip. I lit candles, not only to
see him better but for their soothing scents of lavender and vanilla.

His body’s planes and edges reflected the mellow, golden
candlelight. As I’d hoped, his movements slowed as he relaxed.

“Your feet are filthy. Where have you been?” I deliberately
kept my voice gentle.

“I have been exploring the city, trying to discover the
extent of the unnatural breeding of these Children of Light.”

I told him what Kaldir had related to me and Storne nodded.
“Yes, an unusual proportion of the males resemble him. And there are
other…templates, you might say, for both males and females.”

“I cannot marry him,” I said.

“Of course not.”

“It would upset the Balance. Indeed, I am sure it has
already been distorted to an unacceptable degree. And I would hesitate to again
add Kaldir’s genes to my family. The possibility of birth defects—”

“I told you, I’m the one.” Naked, he sprawled on the stone
bench and smiled at me, his previous irritation apparently gone.

I grinned, eyeing his penis, which swelled and hardened
under my scrutiny. “Yes—you’re tougher, stronger, and you’re not my
great-grandpa.”

By way of an additional apology, I took an ewer of oil and kneeled
beside him. I poured the oil over one grubby foot, then rubbed it with a rough
cloth. His feet were bony and narrow, pale as they emerged from the dirt and
with toes that seemed unusually long.

“I shouldn’t have been so obviously angry about the cloning
in front of the Lightsiders.”

“His guards drew weapons, as did yours.” I shivered but continued
to rub the callus beneath the ball of his foot. “It was a close call.”

He fingered my loose hair. “And unnecessary.”

I was glad that he had come to the same conclusion as had I.
“You were upset…why?”

“Duplication is offensive.” His voice was harsh. “It
contradicts nature. It cannot be tolerated.”

Lifting my head from my task, I eyed him. “It is contrary to
the DarkDweller custom of nature-worship.”

“Yes.”

I held his gaze. “That is not a good enough reason. Not for
the rulers of Shadow.”

“Not only is the duplication bizarre and unnatural, but have
you thought of its military potential?”

I gasped. “By the three moons, you are right. They could
manufacture armies, grow them the way we grow wheat or corn.” A shiver ran
through my body and I sat back on my heels. “We cannot let this go on.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “Worry not, my queen. I will
formulate a plan and we will deal with this threat.” He leaned against the wall
to his back and closed his eyes.

After I had cleansed and massaged one foot, I moved to the
other. “I am sorry about my temper.”

He opened one eye and regarded me. “I am not used to being
questioned.”

“I truly was worried. Your confrontation with Kaldir—” I
broke off as handmaidens entered, dragging a hipbath and pails of cool water
for washing. Storne immediately climbed into the bath and a servant poured
water over his shoulders. He beckoned to me and I stripped off my robes and
joined him.

Other servants brought food and wine, plus large pitchers of
water for drinking. I had noticed my unusual thirst.

After we bathed, servants dried us as we stared at each
other, silent. I wouldn’t discuss policy in front of them and certainly
wouldn’t reveal that I had made the momentous decision that Janus awaited.
Instead I stood quietly, allowing my handmaidens’ caresses to excite me as they
rubbed Storne’s powerful body dry.

He allowed himself to relax under their ministrations, and
as one woman’s small hands stroked his penis, it swelled into a thick, hard
pole. I knew that cock would soon pierce my waiting channel—so needy, so tight
after the many long months of abstinence. The taqqa rod I used was not nearly
as large as Storne’s member, and I trembled to imagine his big cock impaling
me.

“Bring the queen’s jewelry box,” Storne told the woman kneeling
at his feet. When she obeyed, he took out the gifts he’d given to me and, with
a voice as silken as his lips, commanded my handmaidens to ready me for the
clamps while he watched, reclining on the stone slab that would be our bed.

“Suck the queen’s nipples.” He sipped wine. “They should be
hard and red.”

They obeyed with relish, with two servants latching onto my
breasts, nibbling and kissing. Their soft lips contrasted with tiny tugs on the
very tips and I fell into bliss with a happy moan. Storne smiled, his eyes
never leaving my quivering body.

I envisioned what he saw—the queen he had long sought,
naked, being readied for him by beautiful slaves, themselves attired in robes
that barely concealed their round breasts, slender waists and thickly furred deltas.
I knew that many men liked to watch women enjoying each other, and judging by
the sweat now gleaming on Storne’s shoulders, his intense scrutiny and his
lengthening member, he was no different.

A lovely redhead, one of Frayn’s cousins, I believe, let her
long curls caress my belly, then raked her teeth over my areola. The contrast
shot a thrill of desire through me and I clenched my hands in her hair. Another
woman parted my legs to flick my clitoris, her tongue a dancing flame. Heat
swept my body despite the cool bath. My knees weakened and another supported me
from behind, her hand busy in the cleft of my buttocks. She pushed a finger
inside me and I cried out.

“Now,” he said, and picked up the nipple clamps.

My handmaidens’ avid eyes followed everything he did, and I
could tell from their musky sweat, their pants and sighs, that they were almost
as excited as was I. Rall and Parron would no doubt be the beneficiaries of our
love play, and I smiled to think of my two faithful guards’ pleasure.

Storne bent his head and bit my breast, rubbing his tongue
over my distended nipple before he gave it a hard suck. I moaned, and he
snapped the first clamp onto the nipple. He wrapped the long chain around my
neck, then trailed the second clamp over my still-free breast, which responded
by hardening even more.

I groaned, and the servant behind me stroked my bottom. She
reached around me and spread my labia wider, and another fluttered her tongue
over my clit before using her fingers to tug it forth. Storne clamped my other
breast while he nibbled on my mouth. His lips lit a trail of fire down my neck,
and my pussy, already wet, creamed anew.

He reached my imprisoned breasts and pressed them together
to suck my nipples where they protruded from the pearl-lined clamps.

“Leave us now,” he ordered, his voice husky.

The women scurried out of the room so quickly that the
cloths guarding the opening flapped with the speed of their passing.

Storne led me to the stone bench. Every movement twitched
the clamps, stoking my arousal.

“Sit,” he said, and poured me a goblet of red wine. I sipped
it and watched while he served himself and sat beside me.

We sipped wine. The candles had burned low, and the slight
breeze from slits in the stone ruffled the curtains softening the harsh stone
blocks. The very air was charged with the sensation that this very moment was
crucially important, not just for us, but for our people.

I set down my goblet and reached for him.
At last,
I
thought.

I dabbed tiny kisses over Storne’s jawline and he shifted so
his lips met mine. Our open mouths touched, slid, explored, and his tongue
penetrated my mouth with a languorous slowness that told me that he wanted our
first complete lovemaking to be memorable.

He rolled a captured nipple, pinched it as he nibbled on my
lips. I moaned and reached for his cock. Still thick and hard… I lovingly
stroked its length, cupping his balls.

One hand clenched around my breast and the other fumbled for
my pussy. He pushed me back onto the bench and parted my knees. The coolness of
the stone slab was at my back while a wash of air tickled my pussy. “Still
shaved and naked for me.” Storne’s voice was a dark, sexy growl laden with male
lust. He nipped my ear, licked the tender spot.

He parted my labia to find my clit and teased it, his calloused
fingers gently abrading my most sensitive flesh. I gasped and tightened my grip
on his length, imagining its round head pushing into my tight slit before
piercing my narrow sheath.

“I want you,” I said. “Now.”

“Soon.” He took the clitoral clamp to affix it to my tender
pearl, and a searing mix of pleasure and pain seized me. I grabbed the sides of
the bench, tiny cries of lust escaping my throat. “Stand,” he said.

He wrapped the chain around my waist. The Prince of Darkness
had enchained me, throat, breasts, waist, clit. I was his, even without his
cock stabbing into me. His, even without his seed quickening in my womb.

He sat on the bench, and I stood before him. We let our
hungry gazes take in the entirety of the other. I found myself delighting in
the flat planes of muscle in his chest, so different from the bunched sinews of
his arms. His big hands had probed and explored every secret place since we’d
met. And his thick cock, which stood ready to take me.

“Open your legs.” He reached for me, bringing me close. He
played with the clit clip and traced the folds of my sex. Finding my slit, he
thrust in a long finger. I tightened around it, wanting it, wanting him inside
me with a craving born not only of need but of love.

“Hot and wet,” he whispered. “So wonderfully ready.”

I threw back my head. “Please!”

He corkscrewed his finger inside me, caressing my most
sensitive spot. “Am I doing this right?” His voice was low and seductive.

“Y-yes.” I whimpered. By the three moons, I never whimpered.

“You don’t sound sure.” He gave me two pumps, opening me,
then took out his finger and slowly licked it clean of my juices, his gaze
never leaving my face. He tugged me closer still until his legs were inside
mine. Brawny, rough with masculine hair, his thighs scratched my softer skin. I
bent my knees and he drew me onto his lap, with my legs wrapped around his body
and my pussy poised over his cock head. Scorching, its heat would brand me as
forever his.

“You’re teasing…you know you’re doing this right. Please,
Storne, please…”

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low. “Audryn, there will
be no going back once I’ve had you.”

“I’m sure. I’m sure about everything. You’re the one.”

“Oh, darling.” He kissed me and I tasted Storne and wine and
myself on his lips. “My beautiful, wondrous queen.”

“Am I truly your queen?”

“You are forever the queen of my heart.” He held my hips and
pressed me down onto his rod. His round cock head entered me and the sensation
was beyond exquisite. I was stretched, lengthened, but so ready that pleasure
rolled through me in relentless waves.

His tongue began to leisurely fuck my mouth as his cock took
my pussy. He bucked hard and his entire length pierced me to the core. I
screamed and rocked. My imprisoned clitoris rubbed against his body. My nipples
rubbed against his chest. I was again caught in a delicious web of mingled
pleasure and pain. My clitoris had numbed, but as he began to stroke me, a
renewed rush of feeling blossomed, swelled my sex flesh.

Still holding my hips, his strong fingers kneading the soft
rounds of my bottom, he began to swirl and swivel. He rotated inside me, thick
and tight against my sensitive inner channel. I tore my mouth away from his and
my cries rose as I clung to his shoulders.

I bucked and plunged wildly but he controlled me until we
fell into a steady rhythm, my body arching and bowing against his as we took
each other.

The clamps jerked on my flesh as I moved, sending slivers of
sensation knifing through me, increasing the knowledge that I was forever
linked to Storne.

I was hotter and wetter than I’d ever been, so very ready to
climax, desperate for his seed to flood my womb. But he wasn’t nearly done. He
slid a demanding finger up and down my crack until he’d found his target—my
back hole. He thrust inside as he yanked off the clit clip.

I shrieked, convulsing on Storne’s lap, his cock possessing
me as the hardest come of my life ripped through me like a hailstorm. I
screamed and thrashed, digging my fingers into his shoulders as he shouted with
completion.

Sweaty and limp, I sagged against Storne, whose eyes were
closed and his breathing even as he rested against the wall to his back. Though
flaccid, his rod was still big inside my sheath. Even after he’d come he was
still larger than any other man who’d had me. I smiled.

I moved and my pussy, moist with jism, squelched. He opened
one gray eye and regarded me.

“If I don’t get pregnant from that, I’m sterile,” I said.

“You’re not sterile. Your family is notably fecund,” he
said, blinking.

I stretched my arms above my head and the nipple clamps dug,
the tiny stabs reminding me that I now belonged to him. Breathing deeply, I
sought to recapture myself. “Do…do you think we’ll have a boy or a girl?”

“Either will be fine, but I would guess we’ll have boys. I
already have two sons, and the gender of babies usually depends upon the
father.”

“A son. Our son.” I rolled the words around my mouth and the
thought around my mind. My smile stretched wider, matching his.