The Sorceress of Belmair (40 page)

“What?”
She looked at him as if he had gone mad.

“Sapphira was exactly like you in all ways but her eyes, which were a dark green. They are now light. She will be found unconscious in the Yafir lord’s garden, a bump upon her head. Her memories will be muddled and confused, but they will return. But when they do it is to be hoped she is already with child—I believe Ahura Mazda covets a daughter, and he will have one—and she will discover all the wealth she desires can be hers. Sapphira is a very venal and extraordinarily lustful woman. I believe she will be content to be Cinnia instead of herself under those circumstances.” He smiled at her, taking her hand and kissing it tenderly. “So you see, as long as you are content to be Sapphira there is little harm done, and Belmair’s old laws have not been changed only for you, my love. They have been changed for the public good,” Dillon concluded.

She stared at him, the look one of amazement. “You have the mind of a man born into magic,” Cinnia said slowly. “Were your father and your uncle involved in this, too?”

“And Nidhug, too,” he told her.

Tears filled Cinnia’s eyes. “I have missed my dragon,” she told him.

“And me? Have you missed me, my love?”

“After the first few days I put you from my mind, for there was no hope that I could see. But I never put you from my heart, Dillon,” Cinnia said softly.

“I only took Sapphira to my bed as a means to stop Dreng from insisting I remarry, and give Belmair a new queen,” he told her.

“I cannot come back with you,” Cinnia told him. “Even hiding behind another woman’s name. I took pleasures with the Yafir. And I enjoyed them, my lord.”

“I enjoyed pleasures with Sapphira,” he replied. “It is meant by the Great Creator of us all that we enjoy each other’s bodies, Cinnia. You never knew a man until me. Now you have known two men, and enjoyed them both as they have enjoyed you. You were not unfaithful to me deliberately, nor I to you. I love you, Cinnia. I have never stopped loving you. I loved you so much that I would have given up my throne only to have you back in my arms, my wife.”

Cinnia began to cry. “What if this is a dream, and I awaken? And if it is not a dream, what if he comes after me, and drags me down beneath the sea again, Dillon? I am afraid! I am terribly afraid!” And she sobbed without ceasing.

“It will not happen, my love. It will not happen,” Dillon swore to her.

Chapter 14

T
HEY
REMAINED
TOGETHER
upon the beach for some time, Dillon soothing Cinnia and trying to erase her fears. If she was to play the part of Sapphira, she would have to regain a mastery of her emotions again. Cinnia was hard-pressed to believe she was free of Ahura Mazda. “Sapphira did not know you meant to use her in this way, did she?” she said to Dillon, and when he nodded, she continued. “She will tell them who she is, and certainly they will believe her.”

“She will say whatever she will say,” Dillon replied. “She is your mirror image. Why would they believe her? They will think the fall she has had has addled her wits.”

“You have done a cruel thing,” Cinnia told him slowly.

“Aye, it would appear I have,” he agreed, “but you will see in the end, my love, that I have not really been cruel. I never lied to Sapphira. From the beginning I told her that the only wife I wanted was the one I had. That the only queen I wanted was the one I had. I am half Shadow, half faerie, and I do not give my heart lightly.”

“Do not tell me that she believed you, Dillon,” Cinnia said.

“Nay, she did not, but I cannot be blamed for that. I took every opportunity to restate my position. Sapphira is an ambitious woman. She will come to terms quickly with herself when she discovers where she is and who her husband is. She is actually a perfect mate for Ahura Mazda. It is a shame he cannot know so he might thank me,” Dillon finished wickedly.

Cinnia laughed in spite of herself, and then she grew more serious. “Ahura Mazda’s wives are kind women. They will help Sapphira recover from her fright. Now, tell me how we managed to breathe as we made our way up from the bottom of the sea?”

Reaching out, Dillon drew the small clump of seaweed from her pocket. “Agenor gave it to me,” he said. “They do not have much magic, the Merfolk, but they can enchant seaweed so that those of us not water born may breathe beneath the waves when it is necessary. Agenor said to return it to the sea when it had served its purpose.”

He stood, and walking to the edge of the water, tossed her seaweed and his, which he withdrew from his pocket, back into the sea.

“Poor Sapphira,” Cinnia said sympathetically. “Tonight was my turn to entertain Ahura Mazda, and he is not a man to be denied.”

As Sapphira was now finding out. She had been awakened in a garden by the frantic cries of other women. Her head hurt, and she was terribly thirsty. The women had carried her into a room while she frantically attempted to ascertain where she was. But even as her blurred vision came back into focus she could see the chamber in which they had laid her was luxurious. A woman was bathing her forehead.

“Where am I?” Sapphira said.

“In your chamber, Cinnia. We found you in the garden. You had fallen, and there is a small bump with a cut upon your head. Head wounds always bleed copiously, and look more serious than they actually are. The cut is not deep. ’Twill not even leave a scar. You must have hit your head upon a rock. You need to rest.”

“Who are you?” Sapphira asked, “And why do you call me Cinnia?”

“I am Arlais, and I call you Cinnia because that is your name,” the woman said.

“No, it isn’t. My name is Sapphira, and I am the king’s mistress. Where am I? What is this place?”

“No, you are Cinnia, daughter of Fflergant, and formerly wife to King Dillon of Belmair, but now you are the sixth wife of the Yafir lord, Ahura Mazda,” Arlais said.

A look of great surprise spread over Sapphira’s face. Then she said, “No! I am Sapphira, not Cinnia. You cannot keep me here! I want to go back to the castle!”

“The fall has obviously addled your wits, Cinnia,” Arlais said. “I think you should sleep a little, and attempt to restore them. It is your night to entertain our husband, and he will not be pleased if you cannot fulfill your duties.” Arlais stood up. “I’ll leave you now, Cinnia.”

When the door had shut behind her Sapphira rose quickly from the bed, and as quickly sat down heavily upon it. She let the dizziness subside, and when it finally had she arose once more and began to explore the chamber. Opening the wardrobe she exclaimed with delight at the magnificent silk and velvet gowns inside. A trunk was filled with beautiful hand-embroidered chemises and night garments. An ebony-and-ivory jewel casket upon a table opened to reveal it was filled to overflowing with beautiful jewelry. Fascinated, Sapphira lifted a rather barbaric necklace of rubies and gold from the case, and slipped it about her neck. Picking up the mirror on the table, she viewed herself. The necklace was beautiful, and it suited her.

Closing the jewel casket, she continued to explore the chamber. Everything was elegant and of the best quality. The bed, hung with coral-colored silks that fell from a brass ring centered directly above it, was enormous. It sat upon a dais. There were great tall vases filled with odd flowers that perfumed the room with an exotic fragrance that Sapphira could not identify. There were tables of shining brass, and those of ebony. There were gaily colored pillows of various sizes strewn about. A small hearth burned brightly. Everything bespoke the refuge of a woman well-loved. Sapphira went to the windows, and looked out upon a strange landscape. The light was soft and multihued. She was suddenly exhausted. Pouring herself a small goblet of wine, she drank it, and lay down upon the bed to sleep. This was an odd dream, she decided, and when she awakened she would be in the little sailing boat upon the sea with the king, her lover.

But when Sapphira awoke it was dark. A small lamp burned on a table near the bed, and turning, she found a man lying next to her, studying her. She screamed, frightened. “Who are you?” she asked him in a trembling voice.

“Arlais said your wits were addled, my precious. I am your husband, Ahura Mazda,” he told her.

“The Yafir lord?”
Sapphira shrank back. “Do not touch me!”

“Cinnia, are we after a year to go through this again?” he asked her patiently.

“My name is Sapphira!” she insisted.

“No, my darling, your name is Cinnia. Sapphira is the king of Belmair’s mistress. You are Cinnia, his former wife, and now my precious wife. This is my fault, of course. I should have never teased you about the king’s mistress. The blow you took to your head has but brought up old memories, and you are attempting to be Dillon’s mistress if you can no longer be his wife,” Ahura Mazda said. “Forgive me, my darling.”

“I am Sapphira! I am! I am!” she sobbed.

“Nay, Cinnia, you are who I say you are,” he told her, and then he gathered her resisting form into his arms and stroked her dark hair. “You are my beloved wife Cinnia and I adore you.” He kissed the top of her head, and then put her gently from him to examine her injury. “The bump is still visible, but the cut is small, and already healing,” Ahura Mazda said, his finger running over her injury carefully. “Can you remember how you fell, my darling? The path near the wall where you were found is particularly rough. I shall see it is smoothed so you do not fall again. I know you keep looking for more garden space in which to grow your herbs and other plants. Shall I arrange for more earth to be fetched and more garden boxes built for you?”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Sapphira said. “I do not soil my beautiful hands with common muck.”

He took one of her hands up and kissed it. “Your hands, like the rest of you, are always perfection, always beautiful,” he told her.

She had not gazed at him until then. Now stealing a careful look, she saw that all the childhood tales of the evil, ugly Yafir were incorrect. He was a tall, slender man with silvery hair and the most beautiful aquamarine-blue eyes. His handsome face was unlined and ageless. Their eyes locked, and Sapphira felt her lust engaged as she stared at him. Her cherry-red lips parted just slightly and her breathing quickened.

He smiled into her face. It was a knowing smile. An elegant hand stroked her jaw. “It is our night for pleasures, my precious,” he murmured against her lips, and then his mouth closed over hers. His kisses were slow, deep and sweet. He did not hurry his adoration of her lips. He nibbled at her, and his tongue played with hers.

Sapphira felt herself melting into his embrace, responding eagerly to his blatant adoration. Dillon had not touched her in several months, and his lovemaking, while enthusiastic, had never quite pulsed with the passion that this man did. Sapphira sighed, and with that small sound all of her inhibitions fled. If this was a dream it was a most satisfactory one, but she was beginning to realize that it was not a dream. Briefly she considered she would now be a fallen woman to her own people, but would she ever again see her own kind?

“I do not wish to tire you, my precious,” Ahura Mazda said to her, but his hands were already beginning to caress her beneath her silk robe.

Sapphira had a moment of doubt. Should she allow him to continue? Would it matter if he didn’t? His mouth closed over a nipple, and he began to suck upon it. She moaned as she felt her own desires beginning to stir and rise. How long it had been since she had enjoyed such delights? She wasn’t certain how she came to be in this place, or in the arms of the Yafir lord. There would be time later, she was certain, to consider it, but not now. Not when his mouth was wreaking such havoc with her body. Sapphira wiggled out of her robe, and her hands gently forced his garment from his body, gasping with delight as their naked bodies touched, and she felt the fire between her legs deepen.

He leisurely moved his lips over her lush body, kissing, tasting, nipping, the soft pale flesh beneath his mouth. She writhed with enjoyment beneath him, murmuring softly as he moved down her torso. As he reached the junction of her thighs they fell open for him. Sliding forward he peeled open her plump nether lips and buried his head between her legs, his tongue eagerly seeking out that sentient bit of flesh. His own excitement was high, for he had never before known her to be so eager, so acquiescent of his attentions. The taste of her was different tonight. She was musk and honey. Her juices flowed eagerly for him. Nipping at that little nub, he smiled as she squealed and shivered. But then she squirmed away from him, and reaching for his manhood, began to caress it.

Sapphira’s eyes widened slightly as she looked at the male member she now held in her two small hands. She had never before seen anything as huge. The king’s cock has certainly been of a goodly size in comparison with those she had previously seen. But this was enormous. Longer and certainly thicker. Bending, she licked its length several times. She took the tip of it into her mouth, and it filled it. Running her tongue about it she sucked hard. It was much too big, she thought. He would surely split her in two with such a formidable weapon. Releasing him, she looked up. “No,” she told him.

“Yes,” he said, and mounting her, he began to use her.

At first Sapphira struggled and resisted the Yafir lord who said he was her husband, but then she realized that his massive manhood, while stretching the walls of her sheath was also sending her into a paroxysm of pure delight.
“Deeper!”
she begged him after a few moments had passed. She wrapped her legs about him, clutching him.

He pistoned her enthusiastically.

“Deeper!”
she cried out again.

Surprised, he stopped. “Unwrap your legs, and raise them up,” he instructed her. Then pushing her legs back and over her shoulders, he began to drive into her again.

“Harder! Harder!”
the woman beneath him whimpered.

He thrust fiercely until her cries of pleasure were so great he could not contain his own juices, and they burst forth to flood her, overflowing, staining her thighs and the bed beneath them. Never had Cinnia given herself so freely, so uninhibitedly to him. He did not withdraw from her deliciousness, but after a few minutes began to ride her again if only to see how far he might drive her.

Her head was spinning. Never had she known pleasures quite like this. “Oh, yes, my lord!” she said to him.
“Again! Do it to me again!”

Her memory might be slightly confused and impaired, Ahura Mazda thought as he fucked her in a leisurely manner, but the bump she received had certainly unleashed her inhibitions.
Now I will get a child upon her. Now I will have the daughter I so desire!
He fell back briefly.

“No!”
she shrieked. “I want more!”

“And you shall have it, my precious,” he promised her as he turned her over onto her belly. “Get on your hands and knees, Cinnia,” he instructed her, and when she had, he slid his great cock into her again. “There,” he said as he thrust swiftly back and forth. “Is that not nice, my darling? See how deep I can go?”

“Oh, yes!” she cried to him. “
Yes!
Do not cease, my lord, I beg you! Do not!”

It was a night he would not forget. She was amenable to everything he desired, and her passions were such as he had never known, but had always believed she was capable of giving. At one point as she knelt before him, taking his cock into her fiery sheath, he was even able to slowly push a well-oiled ivory replica of his thumb into her tight little fundament. She squealed wildly, but then spasmed violently, squeezing his manhood completely dry of his love juices in the process.

And finally they slept heavily in each other’s arms. When he awoke, surprised to realize he was still in her bed, he also discovered he was in no hurry to leave it. Rolling onto his side he watched her awaken, and when she did, he said, “Give me the daughter that I desire, Cinnia, and I will make you my queen. I will place you above all my other wives. Would you like that, my precious?”

His queen? Sapphira purred with her approval, and reaching up, pulled him into her arms again. This was not a dream. This was real. Somehow, and she could not even imagine how he had done it, Dillon had managed to put her in his wife’s place while returning Fflergant’s daughter to his side. As she realized what he had done her first instinct was to be furious, but then the Yafir lord began suckling upon her breast again, and promising her extravagances beyond her wildest imaginings. He wanted her. No, he wanted Cinnia, who had obviously not responded to his lusts as she, Sapphira, had. But he believed her to be Cinnia, and if Cinnia she must be, Sapphira thought, then Cinnia she would be. She was surrounded by luxury, adored by this Yafir lord, and the promise of power was enticing. Why did people rail so against the Yafir? She could see little difference between Belmairan and Yafir but for their exotic coloring. “I will gladly give you a daughter, my lord,” she promised him. “And then you will gladly make me your queen, and set me above all others, will you not?”