Bound by Sin (14 page)

Kill them or join them.

In the end, it was the guarantee of that gold coin that made the choice for him. The
trega
had made no such offer and likely wouldn't even if he went to them and exposed the poisoning attempt. They were, after all, barbarians…weren't they?

No. He must have his gold. Then he could run away or even…even join the army anyway! How would they ever know it was him? If he snuck in and out fast enough, if he escaped unseen, how would they ever find out?

They wouldn't. They simply wouldn't.

With a deep breath, he moved quickly into the kitchens.

Soup. A pot of soup. It was the first thing he saw that he knew he could dissolve the powder in unseen. He walked up to it, looked furtively left and right, waited until no one was paying any attention, then dumped the white powder within it. He hastily stirred it in using a large wooden spoon he found nearby. Now all he could do was hope no one tasted the soup before it was served. But he had done his part. All they had to do was die. One or all, the fortunary said. Whatever he could manage. One death at that table or all. One death would earn him the coin…All would earn him more, he had said.

More! Imagine more than a single gold coin! It was more than he could ever hope for!

He hastened away from the pot of soup before someone could see him there. He found a shadow to hide in just outside the kitchens and kept his eyes glued to that pot of soup. He now had to keep someone from tasting it before it was served. That was all he had to do. So he sat in the corner and he prayed to Hella, the goddess of fate and fortune, that she would be with him this night.

Dethan sat back in his chair at the dinner table and exchanged a look with his brother, who was seated across the table from him.

“I don't think he's coming,” he said with a chuckle.

“Coming is not his problem,” Garreth quipped dryly.

Dethan laughed aloud at that. “Let us eat without him,” he said as a bowl of soup was placed in front of him. “No reason we should starve just because he prefers to. Unlike my two brothers, I must eat to survive.”

“Tch,” Garreth scolded. It was not widely known that the brothers were immortal. Nor was it widely known what Jaykun suffered each night. There were rumors and such, to be sure, but that was amongst the troops, not amongst their enemies.

Dethan ignored his brother's admonishment and picked up his spoon. “I was in the library most of the day and you wouldn't believe the stories I found. Most of them are in Krizan so I could not read them for myself, but the scholars were surprisingly helpful about the local legends. There was—”

“Good evening, brothers!”

Garreth and Dethan looked up at the jovial greeting. Jaykun entered the room and clapped Garreth on the back as he passed by him. He flung himself into his chair at the head of the table and beckoned to Jileana so she might sit beside him.

“Good evening, brother,” Dethan greeted in return, a grin on his lips. “We didn't think to see you.”

“Ah. Well. I find I am famished!”

“Is it any wonder?” Garreth muttered.

A servant put two more bowls of soup on the table in front of Jaykun and Jileana. As was the common manner, no one ate until the most senior of the group began to eat first. Now that Jaykun was here, that fell to him. He picked up his spoon and so did Jileana.

Jileana, unaware of the fact that she was supposed to wait, scooped up a spoonful of soup and brought it to her lips. She was starving, having eaten nothing but fruit for the whole of the day.

But the very instant the soup's aroma hit her nostrils she blanched and cried out.

“Cogzinia! Don't eat it! It's poison!” She grabbed Jaykun's bowl and threw the hot soup onto the floor.

“What in the eight hells?! Jileana!” Jaykun protested.

But Jileana had leapt onto the table and was shoving the bowls of hot soup away from whomever she could reach.

“It's cogzinia! It's a shellfish from the ocean that's pure poison! Why are you eating this? Surely you don't mean to eat this!”

“Jileana!” Jaykun reached for her and dragged her down from the top of the table. “It's all right!”

“No, it's not!” she shouted into his face.

“I mean it's all right, we won't eat it. Here, now! Be calm!” He caught her face between his hands and was shocked to see how stricken she looked. He had never seen her so upset. She had always been so calm…unflappable. For something to upset her, he knew it must be true.

“How do you know what it is?” he asked her gently.

“I can smell it. Can't you smell it?”

“No. We can't.” Jaykun looked at Dethan and sudden panic rose up in him. “Did you eat any, Dethan?” Garreth and he were immune, but Dethan…

“I was about to when you arrived. But no,” he assured, “I did not eat any.”

“Thanks be to the gods,” Jaykun exhaled. “Any of you others?” All the generals shook their heads and were grateful they had observed common courtesies. They all turned an appreciative eye on their leader's woman. “We are very fortunate, then. I thought our people were in charge of the kitchens.”

“They are. Someone must have gotten past them,” Dethan said.

“From now on, brother, you do not eat until we have tasted your food first,” Jaykun said to Dethan. “We will get to the bottom of this. I will not have this.”

“We need control of this city,” Garreth said darkly. “It's time we settled some things here.”

“We will,” Jaykun agreed. “The people must learn that their lives will be made better by our arrival, not worse and not more troubled. We will begin to make proclamations the day after tomorrow. We will spend tomorrow drawing them up.”

“It will be good to have you with us again, brother,” Dethan said, amusement touching his tone. His heart was still racing as he thought of how close he had just come to making his wife a widow, his children fatherless. The idea sickened him. Yes, his brothers would care for his family as if they were their own, but he did not want Selinda to suffer the loss of him. He knew exactly what it would do to her. As strong as she was, she would find it difficult to survive without him.

He owed a debt to this woman who had latched on to his brother. “Jileana, you have the gratitude of my wife, my children, and myself,” he said to her gravely.

“I am grateful. So grateful,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “When I think of what might have happened…”

“Hush. All is well now,” Jaykun soothed. “Let us find something safe to eat. Some fruits and cheeses perhaps. Cured meats. I will eat first, then you will share my plate. I'll not have you harmed in any way. You have saved the life of my dearest brother and have become precious to me because of it. Come. Sit beside me while this is all cleared away.”

“Very well,” she said, letting him sit her back down in her chair beside him. “Very well.”

The table was cleared and reset, this time with foods deemed safer. The meal went long as everyone ate more cautiously. But Jileana sensed no other poisons in the foods brought to her. Eventually she began to relax and found herself cautiously enjoying Jaykun's company once more.

Jaykun was feeling the guilt of his unbridled day. He had responsibilities and he had ignored them all day. He could not afford to do so a second time, as much as he was craving another day in bed and in Jileana's body. He would have to be satisfied with having her for the night. As it stood, dusk was fast approaching and they would barely have time to make it to the cove.

They left the table and traveled on horseback this time, sharing a saddle as they raced the beast down the beach in order to beat the setting sun. Jaykun barely had time to tether the animal and strip off his clothes before his curse was searing through him and scorching him with blinding agony. He had known such pleasure all day that, in contrast, his torment seemed to be especially brutal.

When it was over he shuddered with the pain of it, crying out through clenched teeth as the salt from the ocean waters penetrated his raw flesh. Jileana gathered him close again, drawing him gently into her lap as she softly began to sing to him once more.

“D
amn her! Damn that
prava
bitch to the eight hells and let her burn!” the finia raged. “Damn that
trega
whelp! He will get nothing from me for his failure! You should have known better than to trust a half-breed whelp!” Braxia glared at the fortunary. “And now there will never be another chance to get at them that way. They will be especially cautious. We must do something before they get further entrenched in my kingdom!”

“Then that only leaves us the choice of a slip blade,” Wizol said, making certain to bow low to her. In her present state of temper it was wisest to remember his deference. It wasn't beyond her to beat a servant within an inch of his or her life. Luckily, he was needed.

“Then do it!” she screeched. “Do it, do it, do it!” She swung out and cuffed him hard on the head. “Send that
trega
whelp to do the job and tell him if he fails me this time it will mean his life!”

“Surely you don't mean to send him to do it,” Wizol ventured, making certain he remained in a low bow. “This requires an expert hand, beauteous one.”

“Then find me one! Now! Meanwhile, that
trega
half-breed can redeem himself by killing the
prava.
She dares to sleep in my bed and defies our plans to win back our kingdom? She is an abomination, plain and simple, and she should be killed. Make sure the boy understands. Kill the
prava
bitch and he will have his gold coin.”

“Yes, mistress,” Wizol said in a quiver of words. Then he picked himself up off the floor and scurried out of the room.

Dremu met up with Wizol shortly after the fortunary left the finia's rooms. Wizol relayed the new orders and left Dremu shaking in indecision. He did not know what to do. He was in danger either way. If he disappointed the finia, he was certain he would meet his death. If the
trega
were to discover what he had tried to do, he would be killed for certain. The invader brothers were ruthless soldiers, killers to be sure. There would be no forgiveness there. Dremu was afraid he had made the wrong choice when he chose to poison the brothers. He should simply have joined their army. He was not a soldier, not a killer, but surely there was something a willing man like him could have done.

Again he faced an impossible choice, if he did as the finia asked, he would become a killer. He had no future otherwise. But how would he kill the
prava
female? She had already foiled his last attempt and she was a creature of mystery to Dremu. It was said the
prava
had great mystical powers. How was he supposed to get close enough to her to kill her? And how does one kill a
prava
?

Dremu scurried into the first dark hiding spot he could find—an alcove full of brooms and buckets. He crouched down into a quivering ball of flesh, curled into himself, and closed his eyes. He needed to think and to sleep. No one should bother him here. No one should be able to see him behind the brooms. He would sleep and he would think.

Oh sweet gods, was he actually going to do this terrible thing? Was he going to kill a woman? And how would he do so without alerting the brother she bedded with? Oh, by the gods, there had to be a better way. There had to be!

Despite his upset, the exhausted Dremu finally found it within himself to fall asleep.

Jileana was well loved.

Her physical body was, in any event. She was lying in bed, her limbs languorous and exhausted, her eyes trained on the magnificent body of her lover as he went about getting dressed.

“Must you leave?” she asked, trying not to sound too demanding of him. She recognized he wasn't the type of man who would care to have a woman make demands of him that he wasn't readily willing to give in to.

He smiled though, his gaze sliding over her naked body as it lay on display in his bed. She was on her stomach, a pillow pulled up under her cheek, her fanny exposed, and her crossed ankles lifting up toward her backside and then dropping back down onto the bed, lifting and dropping as she bent her knees rhythmically.

“I want little more than to stay in bed with you on our last day together, but I cannot risk letting my responsibilities slide. I must spend this day with my brothers, coming up with the proclamations that will put this city at ease and hopefully settle the matter enough to dissuade any more attempts on our lives.”

“Proclamations will not make the Krizans love you.”

“No. But it is a start. And over time they will come to appreciate my rule. I hear the finia was something of a tyrant.”

“Indeed she was. I have heard many tales that would shock and appall you.”

“Nothing shocks me any longer.” He frowned. “You would think they would be more grateful, then.”

“Change is not easy. And you are right; they have no idea what your intentions are. For all they know you will be worse than their former leader.” She lifted her head from the pillow. “How will you begin to engender trust?”

“I don't know. It is different for every city. Usually in a city run by tyranny it is best to hold open days of hearing disputes and begin to make fair and equitable solutions to common troubles. Word of these things will spread and eventually the people will come to realize they will be dealt with fairly.”

Jileana smiled. “That is a brilliant maneuver! I am most impressed.”

He chuckled as he belted his trousers. “Hopefully the Krizans will be just as easy to impress as you are.”

“I have every faith that they will come to love you.” She smiled as she turned, rolling over slowly onto her back as she ran an inviting hand up from her hip to her waist to her ribs and eventually to embrace her breast. “They will feel just as stimulated by your attentions as I am. They will know what a very good man you are.”

Jaykun growled. “Stop that,” he scolded as he snatched up his shirt. “I must go to my brothers and you know it makes me mad with lust when I see your hands on your own body.”

“Do I?” she asked archly. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Jileana,” he warned.

“All you have to do is get dressed and leave. I am not stopping you.”

But she was stopping him and she knew she was. He was overwhelmed by his lust for her in a way he had never experienced before. With Casiria it had been about love and devotion more than it had been about lust. In truth, Casiria had not enjoyed bed sport as much as Jaykun might have wanted her to. Oh, they had had their intimacies, but never had it reached this level of insatiability.

Jaykun pushed the comparison aside with irritation. Why did he keep comparing Jileana to Casiria? They were nothing alike. Casiria had been fair, blond, blue-eyed, and pretty. Jileana was a dark, sultry beauty nearly half a foot taller than his diminutive Casiria had been. Jileana was strong and vital; Casiria had been fragile and delicate. He had treasured Casiria and protected her at every turn. With Jileana, it felt as though she were the one doing the protecting. She had certainly saved everyone at the dinner table from terrible deaths last night. When he thought of how she had scrambled down the table, tipping over bowls of soup, he knew Casiria would never have made such a spectacle of herself. She had been a lady, demure and modest, everything opposite of the bold Jileana.

Casiria also would never have lain naked in bed trying to tempt him back into it by touching her skin as Jileana was now doing. He watched as she pinched her nipple, pulled on it a little, tempting him with the memory of how she felt under his touch. She was so hot, her skin the softest and smoothest he'd ever felt. He found himself quite addicted to the feel of it.

Then her free hand came into play. It began at her other breast, then slowly progressed down the length of her torso until her fingers were scraping through the curls on her mound and then slipping between her nether lips. She gasped softly at the sensation and her eyes rolled closed.

“Go on,” she breathed. “Be on your way if you must. I have plenty to keep me occupied without you.”

Jaykun was rooted to the spot, his cock hard and throbbing since the moment he'd first seen her touching her own skin. He could hear his pulse in his ears, and his hands had halted in the action of putting his shirt on. Now all he could do was watch raptly as she touched herself, her long body sliding restlessly amongst the bed linens, every curve curving, every arch arching. Her hair was a dark cloud beneath her head; her lips flushed red as sounds of welcoming pleasure moaned from between them. He ejected a sound of frustration as his body locked with tension and outright craving.

Damn her anyway! He should be tired of the tempting little witch by now! Instead it seemed his need for her expanded exponentially. Every time he had her, he had to have her again. It was too much. It was frightening. He could not afford to lose himself like this with a woman. Not now, not ever again. And not just because of the pact with his goddess, Weysa, who expected him to devote himself completely to her, but because he had learned the lesson long ago, that to lose oneself to one's passions was a dangerous, deadly road. A painful one he had no intention of ever walking down again.

And yet…and yet he could not seem to make himself turn around and walk away from her. She just looked too delicious lying there pleasuring herself. He simply could not abandon all the promise filling the room just as her increasing moans were filling it.

“Damn you, you wicked little wench,” he hissed, his hands suddenly stripping his shirt from his body. He threw it down with no little violence, then unfastened his belt as he stormed up to the side of the bed. She reached out, placed a foot in the center of his chest, and stayed him from getting into the bed with her.

“I did not say you were invited,” she said breathlessly.

“It's my bed,” he pointed out gruffly. “And I claim everything that lies within it.”

“Hmm. I suppose that is your right, after all.” She lowered her foot and smiled at him with knowing victory. “Aren't your brothers awaiting you?” she asked.

“They will wait a little longer.”

“A little?”

“Don't press me, woman. I do not like to be managed.”

“I think you like it more than you think,” she said, reaching to fondle the rock-hard flesh between his legs. “Yes, I'd say you like it a great deal.”

“Hot little bitch,” he hissed. “You toy with danger when you toy with me.”

“Then I must enjoy danger,” she said, “for I love nothing more, it seems, than to toy with you.”

“So it would appear,” he ground out as he pushed himself into her touch. To feel her touching him while she still touched herself was beyond pleasurable. The teasing war of their words only added to his gratification.

“Enough!” he snapped out after a minute of letting her touch him. “I
will
have you, then I
will
leave you.”

“Of course,” she murmured breathlessly. “As you wish.”

“Damn right as
I
wish. It is because I wish it, not because you wish it.”

“Of course,” she said, her hand sliding down the front of his trousers.

“Gods damn you, Jileana!” he ground out as he surged into her caresses again and again and again. Then suddenly he barked out a sound of frustration, grabbed hold of her by both shoulders, and gave her a hard shake. “You do not control me!”

“I would not want to control you,” she assured him.

“You could have fooled me,” he said fiercely.

She tilted her head and looked at him with genuine, softening surprise. “You mistake me, then. All I want is to give you pleasure, to make you happy. If this does not make you happy, then I will stop immediately.”

And stop she did, withdrawing from him quickly.

Feeling instantly bereft, he hastened to keep her from leaving him. “No! I didn't mean…I didn't mean you didn't please me. Only…only that perhaps you please me far too much at times.”