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Authors: Valerie Douglas

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy

Servant of the Gods (26 page)

BOOK: Servant of the Gods
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The scent of her perfumes blended with the taste of her skin.

Khai watched her eyelids flutter with desire, her mouth softening.

Gently, he brushed a thumb across the tented peak of silk, feeling the hardness of her nipple beneath it.

Irisi shivered, her lips parting on a gasp.

Another inch and her breast filled his hand with its weight as she moaned softly. He relished the fullness of it, the marvelous soft sensation of her breast in his hand. His to touch, his to hold, and he groaned against her throat. Her breast felt so sweet to touch. Already her nipple was taut, furled tight.

Gently he drew her gown down and away, let it flutter to the floor so she was revealed to him in all her glory. Lamplight limned her. His body tightened at the sight.

She was lovely, incredible.

In the pale flickering light her body was as lush and beautiful as he remembered, if not more so. Her skin where the sun hadn’t touched was as luminescent as fine pearls, gilded lightly everywhere the Sun God had kissed it. Her breasts were full and very white, creamy globes, his hand a darker brown against the pale skin where his fingers cupped her.

Khai’s breath shuddered in his throat with pleasure and need. He swept a hand over the rest of her, to feel her taut abdomen, the curve of her hips, brushing his hand over the golden nest of curls between her thighs in promise.

Irisi trembled. Khai’s touch was sweet torture, igniting a nearly unbearable need.

Her own hands weren’t still. They stroked and caressed every inch of him she could reach, sliding up his back, over his strong arms, combing through his thick, wavy hair before sliding down to his hips to pull him against her, needing to feel his hardness pressed against her. It took only a sharp tug to free the kilt from his hips.

As much as she’d longed for him, she’d never truly believed that this would come again.

Now…?

Her body thrilled and her heart hammered, joy and wonder filling her.

Their tongues met, touched, tasted, as Irisi touched his face in wonder and desire, running her fingers into and through his hair, following the line of his throat down in a caress to curl over the strong muscles of his shoulder…and clutched there as he kissed her more deeply still.

Sweeping her up in his arms, Khai carried her to his bed and laid her there, stretching out alongside her with one arm curled beneath her shoulders and around her. Her head was cradled in the curve of his arm so he could brush a kiss over her lips as he slid his fingers deep into her hair to draw her mouth hard against his.

Drawing her closer, Khai devoured her mouth as he brushed his hand once more across the lush curve of her breast. Her breath shivered as once again he savored her throat, running his mouth across her collarbone and then lightly over the curve of her breast as her body trembled in anticipation.

He found her taut nipple with his lips as he let his hand slide down the length of her body. Closing his mouth over that tightly furled bud, he savored it gently, running his tongue around and over it, and then with more urgency.

“Khai,” Irisi gasped as his mouth closed over her and sensation poured through her.

With his mouth on her breast, Irisi was barely aware of his fingers slipping between her thighs to stroke. Then her breath caught in her throat again as pleasure built within her. Her hips rose almost against her will, offering herself to him as, with mouth and fingers, he teased her.

She ached, she burned. Her hand trembled as she stroked a hand over his hair. She watched in awe as his mouth closed over her other breast, as the moist heat of it surrounded it. His teeth tugged on her tender flesh, her body quivered at the touch of his fingers between her thighs as he stroked and played with her.

Then she found him, her searching fingers curling around the long, thick, hard length of him, the skin soft, like warm silk over iron.

Khai groaned softly at her touch.

Delighted, she stroked him. Her strong swordswoman’s fingers worked him, then danced over him to tantalize.

Control slipped away as she caressed him.

“Irisi,” he breathed, almost in protest. Made by Isis.

He could believe it, seeing the beauty of her before him, feeling her sweet body against his, listening to her soft sighs and gasps, a cry escaping her as he found what he sought. She was hot, and so wet, so tight. Need poured from her through him.

Irisi shivered as he touched her, a burst of heat running through her, her thoughts frozen as he stroked and caressed her.

“Please,” she begged, her hips lifting, seeking.

Khai slid his fingers inside the tightness of her, into the slippery heat and she twitched, another cry escaping her. So tight. He ached for her, clinging to control as he slipped his fingers back over and inside her again, and she cried out, body arching.

“Khai,” she murmured, her voice unsteady.

He smiled, shifting to slide down her body. This night it would be the priestess who was worshiped.

Irisi felt Khai’s mouth on her stomach, trailing kisses there. There was the light flicker of his tongue as it touched her navel, dipped lightly inside. She groaned and then his mouth pressed just inside her hip, lingering where the feel of it there made her moan and tremble.

His fingers were still busy, slipping and sliding over her, into her. Her body was heated, quivering helplessly.

The scent of her desire, her musk, filled him.

Khai needed to taste her, to watch her pleasure fill her, take her. Sliding farther down her body, he gently coaxed her legs apart, to cup his hands beneath the tight muscles of her bottom. He shifted his hands to open her to him.

Irisi felt his mouth on her, so warm, and shivered. Then his tongue touched the most private parts of her, so gently. Almost reverently.

Pleasure so intense, so brilliant, blinded her as it swept through her, swelling with each light touch of his mouth and tongue on delicate flesh. She shivered, shuddered.

Tasting her, Khai felt the muscles of her thighs jump lightly with each flick of his tongue. A soft cry escaped her. And another.

Khai savored her, rolled that delicate bud with his tongue. Her pleasure grew with each touch, her body trembling, his own hardness nearly unbearable. He remembered too well the hot, slippery depths of her around him. He needed that, ached for it.

He could feel her quivering on the precipice, her eyelids fluttering as color washed beneath her skin.

She whimpered.

More…

Deliberately, he devoured her. Her body arched as pleasure built inside her. He feasted on her…

Ecstasy more sweet than any Irisi had ever known built within her. A sweet delicious tension that swelled within her, grew, expanded....to burst through her, brilliantly. Irisi shattered as it exploded through her.

Khai was lost. Control snapped as a sharp cry of glory erupted from her.

Need drove him as control evaporated and then he drove himself up into her, inside her. He buried his hard shaft fast and deep into the tight, heated depths of her, into the delirious slick tightness of her as she cried out to feel him inside her. He filled her as her hips rose to take him more deeply. Her hands clutched at his back and shoulders, frantic for more of him.

As desperately as he plunged into her, she drove up against him.

She was so hot and so tight, closing around him so marvelously, so gloriously wet.

Khai pounded into her, demanding more, demanding everything, and she gave it to him, her hips rising, her body closing tightly around him as she thrust against him.

He caught her hands, pinned them to the bed as he pounded into her and she bucked beneath his assault, her soft cries of pleasure maddening…

They strove together for completion.

Irisi could feel him within her, pulsing, throbbing, filling her and stretching her. Each motion, each thrust was delirious torment. Sweet delicious friction built inside her. There was a fullness, a wonderful stretching as he thrust into her, as he filled her completely, all of her.

Ecstasy burst through her, erupting, the glorious heat of it flooding through her as her body quivered.

Feeling her tighten around him, the muscles within her stroking him, Khai shuddered as his own pleasure raced through him and he emptied into her, gloriously, seemingly endlessly, his shaft throbbing.

His body went rigid as ecstasy took him.

Trembling, Khai tried to hold his weight above her but she would have none of it. She reached up to draw him down to her as her arms encircled him. He collapsed over her, their arms and legs tangled around each other as he pulled her close against him.

 

In the earliest light of day, Khai loved her once again, deeply, thoroughly, before Irisi slipped away into the darkness and shadows…

Irisi looked back at him lying there in the lamplight, the soft golden light shifting over him, over the strong features of his face, bringing just a hint of warm gold to his eyes. His dark hair gleamed. The shimmering light warmed his tawny skin, the strong muscles of his chest, his taut stomach and long, strong legs. It was a sight that would stay with her forever…

He took her breath away and gave her joy.

Then she was gone, slipping away into the cool early morning darkness…

Chapter Twenty Four
 

 

Given recent events and with the fort manned once again, Khai elected to provide a personal escort to Banafrit’s tomb. Egypt, Thebes, and the King wouldn’t be well served if they suffered any more losses amongst the priests and priestesses. The Djinn were still out there, somewhere. Or so he told himself. That it gave him more time with Irisi was merely another benefit. If everything went well at the fort while he was gone and the new commander seemed comfortable with his new responsibilities, Khai intended to accompany the party back to Thebes, to report to the King that that duty was done.

Much remained to be done in Thebes, nor could he leave Baraka unsupervised for long. Not with Kamenwati pulling Baraka’s strings. Khai needed to reorganize the army, promote new officers to take the place of those they had lost. Some of that he’d already done. This brief time, though, he took for himself.

It wasn’t easy to find the cave Banafrit had chosen for her tomb, as was intended in order to thwart thieves, but Irisi had both Banafrit’s own memories and the aid of Awan and Rensi, who had been with her when Banafrit had chosen it. Subtle signposts guided their way, although Irisi took care not to point them out, lest one of the porters make note of it. A scarab beetle etched in stone here, another there, faced in the direction they needed to go, gave them their path. Another landmark gave her more guidance.

Khai rode beside her, his hand loose and easy on the reins of his chariot.

He’d slipped into her tent long after dark, to give and receive comfort.

So far away from Thebes, the risk seemed lesser. Neither knew what the future would bring, she knew, so such moments were precious.

Turning his head, Khai found Irisi watching him, a light flush coloring her features. She smiled, her eyes radiant. He smiled in return, warming as his thoughts returned to the morning as well.

Kahotep pointed. High above them a falcon soared. He hadn’t called it.

“It’s a good sign,” he said.

Irisi couldn’t argue it, not when Horus’s own bird led their way.

As they rode, they all talked of idle things, of Banafrit and the past, sharing stories of plans and ideas for the future.

Before them the great wall of stone rose higher and higher as they drew closer to it, a massive barrier deep in the desert, the land harsh and sere yet for all its austerity it possessed a kind of beauty.

They reached the lands of the caves as the sun lowered, giving them time to set camp before full dark fell.

With torches lit against the dark within and soon to be lit without, they stepped into the cave Banafrit had chosen for her tomb.

Few among the lesser priests and priestesses were given to know of this sacred place, the burial place of the greatest of them.

Scribes had been busy at work here for the walls were a complex rendering of the Book of Spells of Emerging into Daytime, giving Banafrit the words she would need when her spirit was released to begin her journey to the afterlife. Not that she didn’t already know them by heart, as all the higher priestesses and priests did, but still no chance was taken.

It was strangely beautiful, the color of the hieroglyphs brilliant on the plastered walls.

Decorative pillars framed the space, giving it a sense of formality, depth and space.

Irisi remembered the plain barrows of her youth and her initiation there.

She’d walked the long circular path into the darkness of the earth-mother’s womb, chanting the words she’d been taught as she spiraled downward. Smoke rose to envelop her. She’d been excited and frightened all at the same time. The words of the chants she’d spoken then had been different, but the meaning and the feeling were much the same as they were here.

This was a sacred space within the earth.

Had she seen visions then of the long, strange journey that awaited her on that long ago night in her youth? The paths she might have taken that would lead to this one? If so, she didn’t remember.

Around them were the things that Banafrit would need on her journey, save the food they’d prepare for her. That would be done in the morning as the sun rose, as it was done in Isis’s temple each morning.

Clothing of fine linen was draped within reach and Awan set a coffer containing Banafrit’s jewelry beside it, along with pots of cosmetics so Banafrit could prepare herself properly to face the gods. The coffer and pots were in gold encrusted with gems. Plates of gold and silver were there for her to eat from, cups for wine or beer, all carefully laid out to welcome her, and to take with her to the afterlife.

A magnificent sarcophagus awaited, Banafrit’s face carved and painted on its gilded wooden surface, the wood inlaid with the silver of the Goddess, the gold of Isis’s father Ra, and jewels.

Irisi felt another tide of grief move through her, as had happened so often these last days. She missed Banafrit’s counsel, her light humor, and her friendship.

As did Awan, his grief clear.

Gently, Irisi laid a hand on his arm.

Awan patted it, mastering himself once again.

Banafrit would be waiting in the afterlife for him, he knew. She would be watching over him in the days and weeks to come.

In time, he would join her but it seemed he was still needed here.

Back in Thebes Irisi knew craftsmen had already begun working on her own sarcophagus, for her own burial chamber, as she also knew that some of those who accompanied them here would begin painting the hieroglyphics that would decorate her tomb, once she chose its location from among the caves here.

That was as it should be.

With a gesture to those waiting, she signaled to have Banafrit carried inside and set on the stone plinth to one side of the chamber, Banafrit’s kalasaris still covering her face.

They would prepare her for her journey in the morning when they had time for the proper reverences. It was too late now, that was a thing for daylight.

They returned to the tents set up just outside the cave entrance.

Khai and the others awaited her and Awan there.

She was grateful for Khai’s presence, for the solace of him. The understanding in his dark eyes was a comfort.

It was she who slipped silently into his tent late that night, trying to hold off that time when Kamenwati might learn of them, trying to keep Khai safe as long as she might.

Had the battle been face-to-face, offering an honorable combat or death for either, she would have feared less. Kamenwati, though, was spiteful and a coward, hiding behind assassins and poisoners, as he had with the acrobats who’d threatened Narmer and his consort.

Only a small oil lamp burned, enough for Irisi to see Khai where he lay on his pillows. His body was magnificent in the dim golden light. Light and shadow limned the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen and touched his hair with gold. His dark eyes glowed as the whisper of his tent flaps shifting drew his attention and he turned to see her standing there within them.

“You are beautiful,” she sighed.

“So,” Khai said, holding out a hand to her, “are you.”

With her marvelous hair loose and spilling over her shoulders she looked younger than her years, oddly innocent, despite the wisdom within in her eyes.

She went to him, taking his offered hand as he drew her down beside him. Reaching up with the other she touched his face as he pulled her closer.

Making love that night was gentle and slow, a matter of touching and holding, of shifting warm skin against warm skin until Irisi buried her mouth against Khai’s shoulder to muffle her cry of pleasure as he pierced her, filled her, emptied into her sweetly.

The earliest light of dawn came too quickly.

 

In the growing light of morning as Awan watched, Irisi banished the spell over Banafrit’s body and drew her kalasaris back from her well-loved face.

A small groan escaped him as he looked once again on his beloved wife, the woman who had shared his life and his bed, who’d born them their children. Slowly, he bent to kiss her lips one last time. One by one their children did the same. Awan took a breath to steady himself for what came next, as his eldest daughter took his hand.

Carefully they removed Banafrit’s clothing and washed her body with love and care, laving it with water, natron, sweet herbs and oils, until her hair gleamed and her skin was softly scented. Step by step they went through the process of preparing her body for the afterlife, removing her organs to their individual jars and setting them in the next chamber.

Then, under the supervision of Rensi, High Priest of Anubis, and with the aid of Anubis’s servants, they began the slow, laborious process of wrapping her within the strips of natron-soaked linen.

All the while Saini chanted from the Book of Life.

The soft voices of the priests and priestesses chanting in response echoed throughout the chamber.

Finally, with the preparation of the body finished, Banafrit was laid within her sarcophagus and the lid set over it.

At Irisi’s signal the food that some of the priests and priestesses had been preparing was brought in and set on the appropriate plates, the mugs filled with wine and beer until all was complete. Banafrit would need such sustenance before she began that final journey.

Rensi called down the God Anubis and asked him to escort Banafrit through the underworld so that she might reach the Afterlife in safety.

In pairs the lesser priestesses and priests of the temple left the cave, until only Awan, Irisi, Kahotep, Djeserit and Rensi remained.

Chanting the necessary spells, they removed the various blocks and holds for the traps that would keep Banafrit’s tomb safe from thieves, Irisi adding her own spells as laborers heaved the last great stone into place that would seal the tomb for all time.

It had been a long process, but they completed it before darkness had fallen and that was right as well.

Irisi laid her hand on the massive stone that now separated her from her oldest and dearest friend as beside her Awan did the same.

As it must be for Awan, it was hard for her to believe Banafrit was gone, although she knew that her friend would be watching over them from the Afterlife soon.

Even though Irisi now stood in Banafrit’s place, there were still times when she expected her friend to come walking around the corner. It seemed impossible that Banafrit had passed before them, and Irisi might not see her until she reached the afterlife herself.

Darkness fell as they completed the last of their tasks.

Khai waited for her in her tent, stretched out on her pillows on his back. She simply stood and watched him sleep.

Even, or perhaps especially because it was so rare when he was at ease and at rest, he seemed more handsome than ever. His body seemed to have been carved from some warm golden-brown stone, so perfect was it, and that the stone polished perfectly smooth and warmed by the sun God Ra himself. With his deep brown eyes closed, and one arm thrown carelessly over his head, he looked peaceful and relaxed.

She smiled.

It said something for his instinctive trust of her he didn’t awaken when she entered.

Kneeling beside him carefully, Irisi laid a hand on his chest lightly, so as not to startle or awaken him. She kissed him on one flat nipple, her lips as soft as she could make them and still touch him. He smelled of clean male, of Khai, and her heart fluttered a little at his unique scent. Absorbing the feel of him beneath her hand, with her head propped up on the other, she licked gently as her free hand brushed lightly over his abdomen and down.

He shifted a little but didn’t awaken, although he hardened as she watched.

Delicious sensation rolled through Khai as he slowly awakened to a warm mouth pressed against his chest as Irisi’s fingers drifted over him as lightly as a feather, maddeningly.

That warm mouth moved down his belly, her tongue flicking over a sensitive spot just beside his hip, making him groan as she brought him more awake and then warmth closed over him.

His body tightened with pleasure.

Now awake and aware, he looked down to see Irisi taking his rigid member into her mouth. Her long hair sprayed across his stomach, a gleaming flow of gold against his darker skin. Both the sight of her and what she was doing to him were incredibly erotic.

BOOK: Servant of the Gods
4.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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