Cursed by Ice (22 page)

“What about what happened to the bennesah?”

“It was Vinqua and not my doing. He told me he had silenced the bennesah so he could not tell us about the changelings once we captured him and began to ask questions.”

“I am not fully convinced.”

“Well, I am. I have been a wrena for nine turnings. Nearly ten. I have never manifested anything other than my telepathic connection with Koro.”

“The twins are barely ten. You became a wrena when they were just babies.”

“Our parents were dead. We had no options. My sisters were about to be sold off to an infant slave trader when I left for the mountains. Slave traders buy children cheap, raise them, and sell them when they are of age. I suppose it is an investment in the future.” She was quiet a moment. “You must be careful. The bennesah’s enemies were many. Once word of his death spreads … there will be problems. They will look upon this city as being vulnerable once more. They will test your strength.”

“And they will find it inviolable,” he promised her. “But you see … this is what would make you a good bennesah. You see into the future. You think about what must be done for the sake of the city.”

“I would serve better as an advisor to you,” she insisted. “Let’s not talk about this. I do not want to quarrel with you.”

“Very well.” He picked up a sponge, and after lathering it up with some soap, he began to wash her arms, taking care to get each of her fingers, around her wrist, and all along the length of her arm. He used slow and methodical strokes. Careful and caring ones. “Tell me of the bennesah’s enemies.”

“There is one in particular. The Zizo, from a neighboring city only a short distance to the west. The city is called Zandaria, which means ‘glittering jewel.’ The Zizo are miners. The city sits on rich deposits of many kinds of gems, and it is said the waters there are full of gold.”

“And why are they enemies of Kith?”

“The bennesah coveted Zandaria’s riches. When his coffers were empty and he could not tax any higher than he already had, he began to plot against Zandaria. Using Vinqua, he made their caravans heading to other cities think they had arrived in those cities and made a
good trade for their wares, only to realize later that they had been robbed. Once the Zizo figured out it was the Kithians stealing from them, they started a war. I was asked to bring Koro down on them, and Vinqua worked his magic. The Zizo quickly learned they could not defeat us. But the two cities have been bitter enemies ever since.”

“Do you know what god they worship?”

“Diathus, goddess of the land and oceans. That which provides them with their riches.”

“Which makes them a part of Xaxis’s faction, the faction of gods against Weysa.”

“Faction?” Sarielle asked.

“The gods are at war … split down the middle.” He filled her in on the different factions. “To take worshippers away from one faction and aim them at the other is at the heart of my goals. Tell me … this Zandaria … You said it is only a short distance away?”

“Yes. Why? You cannot think to lay siege to them!”

“Why not?” he asked as he moved her forward and began to wash her back.

“The rylings, for one.”

“Rylings?”

“They are a tribe of fairies who protect the city.”

“Hmm. Fairy magic is not to be trifled with,” Garreth agreed. “But if we turned away from every city because it would be difficult to conquer, we would never make progress. Every city has its weakness. Yours was your bennesah’s hubris—and his dependence on the wyvern and the fear it instilled. Not to mention your inadequately protected walls.”

“I know. I became a wrena to ensure the comfort and unity of my family. But it made me a prisoner as well.” She sighed as he moved on to her chest, washing the sponge across her breasts, abrading the nipples gently
with it. “Will you look for weaknesses in Zandaria’s defenses?”

“I will discuss the strategy with my brother. You should not worry about these things.”

“It’s just that if you do lay siege to the Zizo city … since it is so close … you can base your attack here. And you can utilize Koro as well.”

“I don’t want to utilize Koro. I can win a war without a wyvern. I do not want him injured again. Not knowing what it costs you.”

“I’m not sure you understand how powerful the rylings can be,” she said as she tipped her head back and moaned softly in pleasure and relaxation. The sponge dipped further below the waterline, heading over the softness of her belly and across the thatch of flame-red curls at the crest of her thighs.

“I’m not sure you understand how powerful
we
can be. We are on a search for mages or magesses. Soon we will have them joining the ranks of our army. We will learn what they are capable of and train them and our men in ways to execute their magics in battle.”

“But the rylings are—” She broke off with a gasp as his sponge dipped lower and swirled in a circle against a most pleasurable spot. She forgot what she was saying as the sponge continued to caress and clean her, becoming more and more thorough with every swish.

Her head was on his shoulder, her moans and gasps echoing in the large room.

“Like this, do you?” he rumbled into her ear huskily.

“As do you,” she said, her hands sliding under her bottom to caress the hard length of him.

“I like to see how responsive you are,” he said heatedly. “I love the way you moan low in your throat like that. You and Mordu have a grip on me I cannot give adequate words to.”

“Mordu is the god of love and passion and lust … but
I am not certain he has anything to do with what you make me feel. I think that is solely your doing.”

“Do not forsake the gods,” he warned her on a whisper. “They listen and know everything. They are very real and very much a part of everything we do.”

“I am not forsaking Mordu. In fact, I consider our passion together to be our tribute to him. The mems of his temple make love to the chosen on the high holidays in tribute to him. Why can this not be seen as the same?”

“I agree. I will make you come for me … and for Mordu. I would not share you with anyone, not even Mordu, but I will offer him the sounds and heart of our passion.”

“Mmm, I will as well,” she breathed as her legs fell open as far as the narrow tub allowed.

The water was growing cool, but they hardly noticed as they stroked each other into a frenzy of pleasure.

“Enough!” Garreth declared roughly, throwing the sponge over the side of the tub and grabbing hold of her hips. He pulled her back, and his swollen shaft slid through her intimate folds. He was at her entrance and then inside her in an instant. She was so hot compared to the cool water that he groaned soulfully upon entering her. The water sloshed over the edges of the tub as he pushed and pulled her, up and down, against his hips. She was gripping the edges of the tub, but the position required him to do most of the work, for she had no traction.

That didn’t seem to make a difference. He had strong hands and great motivation to move her on himself with haste and need. Sarielle had never thought that the sexual act could be done in such ways, but as he opened her mind, she began to think of other ways they could share their lust. It made her all the hotter for him in that moment. She began to climax, throwing her head back, the wet tips of her hair falling against him like gentle little
whips. He felt her flesh tightening around him as she succumbed to her pleasure, and it heightened his. He began to join her in a sudden surge of sensation, release coming upon him with a fury. He jetted into her, letting her drain him, feeling powerful and weak at the same time. When they were finished she fell back against him, panting for her breath.

“It is hard for me to believe you have never known passion before this,” he said breathlessly, “for you have taken to it as though you have done it all your life.”

“Do you not believe me, then?”

“No. It is clear you were untouched,” he assured her. “The remark is not meant to call you a liar, only to express my wonder at the magnitude of your passion. I feel a very fortunate man.”

“And so you should,” she said with amusement.

“You are a wretch. And this water is cold.” He retrieved the sponge, hastened to finish their bathing, then lifted her from the tub with him. He gathered them together in a warm fur that had been warming by the fire and then settled them down on the fur rug before the fireplace. The rug was the skin of a grismon, a huge six-legged creature that roamed the icy mountains of the northern reaches of the continent. It was known for its thick fur, and so the rug was soft and luxurious beneath them.

There, he made love to her again. And after they dozed a while, he woke her and loved her once more.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

“Good morning, brother!” Garreth called out brightly as he entered the main hall and found Dethan seated there with a cup of cider and a table set for breaking his fast. The food was just being brought in and Garreth eagerly took a seat. He was starving, having worked up a tremendous appetite with Sarielle—who was now having the morning meal with her sisters in the nursery.

“That depends on whom you ask,” his brother said.

“You seem in a foul mood,” Garreth observed.

“If I am, I have every reason to be. This city is not under our control. We have spent the better part of the past six days chasing after one thing or another, usually because of that girl. And now I’m afraid you will be far more focused on her than on what you are sworn to do here.”

“That is unfair,” Garreth said harshly. “That girl is going to be key to the protection of this city.”

“If she stays. She may not. As you have pointed out, she is free and independently wealthy. She can go anywhere she likes.”

“She will not want to leave Koro,” Garreth argued.

“I’m sure there are caves aplenty in other parts of the world.”

“Why are you so against her?” Garreth demanded of his brother. “She has done nothing to you.”

“She has done something to you,” Dethan countered. “She has turned your focus away from where it should be: controlling this city and preparing for the next.”

“I’ll have you know she has just helped me to focus, as you say, on our next city to be conquered. It will take some research, but I believe the neighboring city of Zandaria will be our next goal. Provided we can gather enough mages to counter the rylings.”

“Rylings?”

“Fairies that support the city with their magic. The city worships a god of Xaxis’s faction. Should we win it, we will take strength away from that god and bring it to Weysa instead. I will still be keeping to my agreement with Weysa, and I can continue to manage this city throughout the winter as we use it for the base of our attacks.”

“You wish to spend the entire winter here?”

Again, Dethan saw no good coming of this. The longer Garreth remained, the more thorough his attachment to the girl would be. No matter how Dethan looked at this, his brother would be hurt. And it all centered on the girl.

“Why not? We have conquered two cities this turning for Weysa. That is more than satisfactory. I will not winter the men in tents if I do not have to. It leads to unnecessary sickness, injury, discomfort, and death.”

Unfortunately Dethan could not argue with that logic.

“Very well. But you should spend the winter plotting to take over Zandaria as soon as spring breaks, not fucking with that girl.”

“Enough!” Garreth exploded, his fist crashing against
the table as he surged to his feet. “I am not a child in need of your handling! What I do or do not do with this ‘girl’ is none of your concern, and if you speak of it again, I will cease to be in your company! If you miss your wife so damn much, why don’t you go home to her? I am sick to death of you and your overbearing ways! She can have you! I was more than able to take this city and I am more than capable of keeping it!” He pushed away from the table. “I have lost my stomach for breakfast,” he said before storming out of the room.

“Fuck!” Dethan spat to the seemingly empty room.

But over in a secluded gathering of furniture by the fire, lying on her usual chaise, was Davine. She stood up, her silk robe fluttering at her feet. It was not diaphanous but nearly so. Her figure and the shading of her nipples could just barely be made out through the rose-colored fabric.

She moved toward Dethan, her gait smooth and graceful. There was a reason why she had been Bento’s mistress for so many turnings. She had the beauty, elegance, and cunning it took to keep a man of power on her hook.

“My lord, is there something I can get you for your present relief?” she asked Dethan.

“It is nothing a skilled assassin could not handle,” Dethan grumbled.

“If that is truly what you need, I can see about—”

“No. No, of course not,” he said. He sighed. “What I need is a way to pry that woman’s hooks out of my brother.”

“Well … perhaps a different set of hooks is what is needed.”

“Excuse me?” Dethan asked, his tone sharp.

“Never mind,” she said dismissively. She reached to snatch up a piece of fruit, then moved away from Dethan. But her mind was working heavily. It was clear to
her the contention between the brothers was due to the wrena. She saw Dethan’s concerns and knew that he would prefer the wrena and his brother not have a relationship at all. She found this very interesting because it echoed her desires. She needed to find a position of power in this city or she risked losing the comforts she had grown used to. Sure, she could work her way into the bed and home of another wealthy man of the bennesah’s court, but if there was perhaps a way of achieving position and power without having to sell her body …