The Sorceress of Belmair (37 page)

“She believes by becoming my mistress she can cajole me into a marriage,” Dillon told Kaliq. “I have not deceived her or her family in that respect.”

“Women faced with what they do not wish to hear often do not hear it,” Kaliq said. “They continue to fantasize, and believe that they can make happen what they wish to happen. The girl has been warned, and yet still she has come to you quite eagerly because she insists on believing that she can make so what she cannot. Feel no guilt and enjoy her, Dillon. But do not trust her, for a woman like that is not to be trusted. She will speak soft words to you, but her determination is like rock. Unmoving.” Then stepping back into the shadows of the chamber, he said, “Good night, my son.” And he was gone.

Dillon left the hall and went to his apartments where Ferrex awaited him.

“I have drawn you a bath, my lord,” his serving man said.

“Good,” his master said, and then spent a leisurely hour bathing, and another hour being massaged. Putting on a dark blue silk robe he made his way through the castle to Sapphira’s apartments, entering without knocking.

“Good evening, my lord,” Tamary said, curtseying.

“Where is she?” he asked quietly.

“Awaiting you in the bedchamber, my lord, and quite put out to have been kept waiting I should tell you,” Tamary replied.

“It is best she learn her place from the start,” Dillon answered.

“I agree, my lord,” Tamary said with a small smile.

“Go to bed,” the king told her. “Good night.”

“Good night, my lord,” Tamary responded with another curtsey, and she departed.

The king entered Sapphira’s bedchamber. “Good evening,” he said.

“Where have you been?” Sapphira demanded to know. “I have been waiting for you forever, my lord! Is this how you mean to treat me?”

“It is your duty to await me, Sapphira,” Dillon told her. “You are here for my pleasure, and no other reason. If you wish it I will send you home to Beldane now.”

“You are cruel!” She feigned a half sob.

“Aye, I can be,” he said. “Are you staying? Or going? If you mean to stay then remove your garment for I wish to see you as you were created.”

“You are horrid,” Sapphira said, but she complied with his request, shrugging her peach silk robe from her frame.

Dillon smiled a faint smile as he walked slowly around the girl. Her breasts were larger than Cinnia’s, but the same round shape. Her belly was flat, her mons plump and smooth, free of any hair. Her buttocks were also slightly larger than his wife’s, but they were pleasing to look upon. Reaching out, he ran his hand down her back. Her skin was silky. She did not tremble when he touched her. Dillon shrugged his own garment off, and then moved around to face her. “Now, lady, it is your turn to look your fill,” he told her softly.

Chapter 13

S
APPHIRA
RAISED
HER
lowered eyes. They were darker green unlike Cinnia’s lighter green ones that were flecked with gold. Her gaze began to travel slowly, assessingly over him, but when it reached his manhood Sapphira moaned low in her throat, and fell to her knees before Dillon. “Oh, it is so beautiful!” she crooned, and she caressed him, running her fingers up and down his length. “I have never seen a manhood so large!”

“I was given to understand you are a virgin by your family, and you told me so yourself,” Dillon said. “How is it that you have seen a manhood?”

“My mother has tutored me in the arts of pleasing a man. She has displayed the manhoods of her male servants for me so I should know what they were like. But my virgin’s shield is completely intact, my lord. I have never lain with a man, I swear it!”

“I must believe you unless it is proven otherwise, Sapphira,” he told her. His hand caressed her dark head. “Do what you will with me, my pet,” he said to her.

“I must have it!
I must!
” she cried, and then she took him in her mouth, sucking eagerly upon his flesh, her tongue teasing it, nipping very gently as her fingers slipped beneath him to play with his sac.

Dillon closed his eyes. He remembered the first time he and Cinnia had indulged in this pleasure, and she had been so hesitant and shy. Sapphira was not shy. Relaxing, he let her mouth work its carnal magic, and soon she was gagging slightly as both his length and his girth increased. His fingers tangled in her dark hair, holding her there. He considered releasing his juices in her mouth but decided against it. Instead, he silently spoke the small spell with which he had enchanted Cinnia’s womb.
Your little womb will empty be until I give a child to thee.
It was actually just an extra precaution because faerie folk did not give children to those they did not love. He would never love Sapphira. He looked down at her. Her mouth was stretched wide as she sucked him, and her eyes look just a little desperate. He smiled at her. “I think that is enough now, my pet. Release me, and we will move on to other things.” When she obeyed he pulled her up, and kissed her slowly. Her lips beneath his were soft, and eager.

“Take me! Take me now!” she begged him. “Your cock is so hard and beautiful. I want it inside of me, my lord! I want to be a woman!”

“Pleasures are best enjoyed with patience. My cock will remain hard now until I release my juices. You shall be cheated out of nothing, my pet.” He led her to the bed with its rose velvet hangings, seating her upon it and pushing her back so that her legs fell over the edge. “Did your mother’s serving man suck upon you, Sapphira?” he asked her, and when she hesitated, said, “The truth now, wench, for I shall know if you lie.”

“Yes!” she admitted, “but my mother never knew it.”

“I thought she was with you at all times during these
lessons,
” he responded.

“Once one of the men lured me off. She did not know it, and I never told. We kissed and cuddled, and he put his finger into me, and then sucked upon me. It was only once, I swear it, my lord! Please believe me!
Please!
I am a virgin!”

“It’s all right, Sapphira,” he reassured her, standing over her. “I shall soon know if you are telling the truth. If you are not I will have you beaten, and return you to your uncle for a liar and a fraud.” He knelt between her outstretched legs, and opened her nether lips to view her jewel. It was well formed. Leaning forward, he licked at it, and Sapphira whimpered. The inner walls of her nether lips, a rich coral in color, were moist already with her lust. The scent of her sex assailed his nostrils, rousing him even further. Leaning closer he took her into his mouth, and began to suck upon the sensitive nub. It took but a few tugs of his lips to send her into a paroxysm of pleasure.

He hadn’t even played with her delicious breasts yet, but his need was too great, and she was eager. It would be something for later. He stood, and pulling Sapphira toward him he began to enter her carefully, mindful of a virginity that might or might not exist. She moaned as his great cock began to stretch the tight walls of her sheath. She gasped as it met her virgin’s barrier. “You have not lied to me,” he said, and then drawing back he thrust swiftly, impaling himself to the hilt.

She screamed, and the sound was genuine. “Please stop!” she heard herself saying to him. But instinct impelled her to wrap her legs about him.

He ignored her because he knew in a brief moment the pain she was suffering would turn to pleasures such as she had never known. He withdrew, thrust again, and yet again and again. He pushed hard and he pushed deep into her. Sapphira moaned, but the sound was no longer one of pain. “You see, my pet, patience is a good thing,” he said to her as he increased the tempo of his thrusts until she was screaming with her pleasure, and finally when she swooned he withdrew, looking at the blood upon his cock, and nodding, satisfied. She had not lied, and her eagerness told him she would be an excellent mistress for him. He would smooth out her inexperience, and when he was through with her he would let her have the pleasure of his father’s passion before he sent her back to her family to be married.

He took her three times that night before he released his own juices. And then he left her to return to his own apartments where he slept a better sleep than he had in months. When he awoke, Dillon experienced a small qualm of guilt over having been unfaithful to Cinnia, but then was his wife not being well used by the Yafir lord?

And she was. It had been almost a year since Cinnia had been taken by Ahura Mazda, and his passion for her had not abated at all. And while she felt a deep sadness in her heart, for Cinnia knew she would always love Dillon, she had come to terms with the fact that this place, this man, was to be her life. And she had been able to make herself useful because Ahura Mazda had kept his word to her. Enough soil had been brought from the surface, and she had had square wood boxes constructed, which she placed in the one spot in the gardens that got bright light much of the day. Into these boxes she had planted the many varieties of plants the Yafir lord had found for her.

Within his castle she was given a small chamber for her apothecary. Her plants flowered, ripened and grew. Cinnia harvested the leaves, the berries and specific roots after taking the seeds to plant for the following year. Then she dried certain leaves, berries and roots, and ground the remainder of her crop into powders. Soon the shelves were filled with small jars, which Cinnia carefully labeled. She made salves and unguents for healing, lotions for pleasures and creams for beauty. Some ingredients she rolled into pills. And when she helped ease the pain of childbirth for Orea and Tyne, her usefulness as a healer was established within Ahura Mazda’s household.

“If only you could give us a pill to birth daughters,” the two women had both said to her, for their newborns were healthy sons.

As for her own fertility it appeared that she had none. Though Ahura Mazda came to her almost daily Cinnia showed no signs of being with child at all. He was disappointed, but not discouraged. Cinnia was quietly relieved. Within her there burned a small secret spark of hope that one day Dillon would find her, rescue her and bring her home again. As long as she did not produce a child for the Yafir lord she believed no matter Belmair’s laws Dillon’s love for her, and hers for him, would prevail over all.

But would he forgive her for yielding to Ahura Mazda’s blandishments in those days when her hope had been almost extinguished, and her heart was breaking? She had not thought he would until recently, when Ahura Mazda had taken an almost perverse delight in telling her that Dillon had taken a mistress who was said to be very fair. It was then Cinnia remembered that for Dillon pleasures were a natural thing to be enjoyed. They had been cruelly separated, but their bodies could not be denied. As long as their hearts remained true to one another it would be all right when they were finally reunited.

Oddly it had been the soil and the plants that had banished her deep depression. The feel of the Belmairan dirt between her fingers had renewed her courage. And when her plants began to flourish and grow she had felt her willpower and strength returning. Working her little apothecary had given her life meaning once again. But Cinnia was not happy, nor would she ever truly be again, she thought sadly. Still the friendship of the other wives was pleasant, for in Belmair she had had no friends but Nidhug. And there seemed no jealousy or animosity among the women. Each loved Ahura Mazda in her own way, and was grateful for his company when he chose to share himself with them.

Then one day as Cinnia walked along in the gardens of the castle she sensed that she was being watched. Turning she realized that she was near the bubble wall, and peeking out from the top of the wall was a creature who had the upper body of a young woman, and she could only assume, the lower body of a fish. Cinnia was enchanted by its beauty. She smiled at it. It had to be a magical creature, of course.
Hello,
she said in the silent language, and then she smiled again.

The creature looked startled, and skittered down behind the wall, peeping out shyly at Cinnia, her long golden hair drifting about her.

Please don’t be afraid,
Cinnia said.
I won’t hurt you.

Still half-hidden, the creature said,
Who are you that you speak the silent tongue? And this dwelling is surely magic made. I have never seen its like before. You cannot be mortal.

My name is Cinnia,
she answered.
Do you have a name?

I am called Antea.

What are you?
Cinnia could not help but ask.

The sea creature laughed lightly.
I am a mermaid, from the race of Merfolk.

Of course!
Cinnia exclaimed.
I have studied about your kind.

What are you?
Antea asked emboldened.

I am Belmairan,
Cinnia said, and then she looked about to be certain they were not being observed by anyone else.
These dwellings were created by the Yafir, a magic race. I was stolen by them. Most of the women here have been.

“Cinnia? Cinnia? Are you out in the gardens? Our husband has come to see us,” Volupia called, and Cinnia heard her coming near.

I come into the gardens each day at this time,
she told the mermaid.
Please come back again, Antea. I must go now or they will see you.

I will come back.
Antea swam swiftly away through the thick seaweed that surrounded the magic bubble. She could not wait to find Agenor and tell him of what she had discovered. For weeks the Merfolk had searched the seas in vain looking for something out of the ordinary. And now she, Antea, a mere slip of a mermaid, had discovered something very unusual. She hoped it was what Agenor had been looking for all this time. She, like all the rest of her kind, had been told little. Seek for the unusual beneath the sea, Agenor had instructed them. Well, she had certainly found something unique in the civilization of bubbles that seemed to house small villages, and a very large bubble that held a castle.

It took her several days to reach her destination. The tide was high, permitting her to swim directly into Agenor’s cave. “Father!” she said, calling to him.

The chief of the Merfolk was lounging upon his great rock, peeling and eating a pineapple. His russet-red beard was wet with the fruit’s juices. He looked up at the sound of her voice. “Antea, my daughter, you looked exhausted. Here. Have a piece of pineapple, and refresh yourself.” He handed her a chunk of the fruit.

Antea popped it into her mouth, chewing, well satisfied. When she had swallowed the piece, she said, “Father, would you consider a community of great bubbles beneath our sea in which are villages, and one with a castle, unique?” Her green eyes were dancing merrily, for from the look upon his face Antea knew she had found whatever it was which her father had been seeking.

“I would indeed consider it odd,” Agenor said to his daughter. “You have found such a place? Where is it?”

“It is located in the remote western seas nearer to Beldane than any other land mass. I spoke to a girl within the bubble. She knows the silent language, Father. I think those within the bubble must be magic.”

“I believe, my daughter,” Agenor said, “that you may have found what we have been looking for, and I must now send for Duke Alban. See if you can find that pesky gull of mine,” he told her.

Antea swam to the mouth of the cave, and called, “Nereus! Your master needs you. Come quickly!” As she swam back into the cave, the gull whizzed by her ear, landing itself on a ledge near Agenor’s rock.

“Greetings, Agenor! How may I serve you today?” the gull asked.

“Go to Duke Alban, and tell him I may have found what he seeks,” Agenor instructed his messenger. “And hurry!”

“Is the duke to await further word from you, Agenor, or is he to come with all possible haste?” the gull wanted to know.

“Ask him to come as soon as possible,” Agenor replied.

“I will return with his answer as soon as I can, but it is afternoon now. I suppose you can expect me on the morrow sometime,” the seagull said. Then swooping down from the ledge where he had perched himself, Nereus left through the cave entry, his wings stirring up a slight breeze.

Duke Alban was surprised to find himself being addressed by a large seagull in his gardens as the sun set into the western sea. He listened, and then thanked the bird.

“You will remain the night, of course. I will have my servants bring you some fresh herring. Where will you be?”

“The water is calm, and will remain so for a time,” the gull replied. “I shall rest here in your little harbor, my lord duke. Your servant may call to me, and I will come for my meal. My name is Nereus.”

The seagull remained the night, bobbing upon the gentle swell of the sea by Alban’s home. When the duke looked out of his bedchamber window as the sun was coming up the following morning, he saw the gull rising from the harbor on his strong wings, and flying off down the coast to the realm of the Merfolk. Dressing himself, he then turned to face a small blank section of wall within his apartments. He spoke the words that Dillon had given to him.
“King of Belmair, hear my call. Come to me from out yon wall.”
Still he was a little startled to see Dillon stepping from the stone wall and into his chamber. He bowed. “Agenor wants us to come with all possible haste. He may have found something for you, Majesty.”