Fantasyland 02 The Golden Dynasty (55 page)

He wasn’t wrong.

I stifled another laugh and Narinda nudged
my leg with her toe again as I heard her swallow a snort.

“
But…” Sabine went on, totally missing all
this, “I didn’t… erm, do all the work. In the middle of it, he
lifted up to sitting and used his arms and hands on me to make me
go, um…
faster
and erm…
you know,
harder.
So, I…
you know…
did.
” Then she
pressed her lips together before she burst out with, “After all
he’d done before and how he felt inside me I couldn’t stop
myself!”

I bet she couldn’t.

“Sabine –” I started but she cut me off.

“
And it was fantastic… it was… it
was
amazing.
And I
think he liked it too.”

I was sure he did.

“Sabine –” I tried again but she kept
talking.

“But, I don’t know… I’m worried. What if I
hurt him? He seems strong and healthy but, I don’t want…”

I tried and succeeded in not bursting out
laughing thinking of tiny, sweet Sabine hurting big, strong Zahnin
and decided it was time to be heard.

“Sabine,” I called, reaching out to grab her
hand. “Come back to the roof and out of your bedroom, my sweet
friend.”

Her eyes focused on me.

I squeezed her hand. “He’s fine. Absolutely
fine. Don’t worry about him. You’re taking care of him now in the
way he needs. He’s been trained since five to know what his body
can and cannot do. Let him decide what he can take and just… uh…” I
grinned, “enjoy the ride.”

Her eyes got wide, her face got so red I
could see it in the torchlight and then she giggled so when she
did, I thought it was safe to giggle with her and Narinda joined
in.

After another squeeze, I released her hand
and she looked back over the rooftop which now showed a sky that
was mostly midnight blue and twinkling stars with hazy streaks of
pink.

“My warrior husband is gentle and patient,”
she whispered to the night sky. “I never, ever would have thought…”
she stopped and her eyes came back to us. “It started as a
nightmare but now seems like the sweetest dream.” Her head tipped
to the side and a small, confused smile played at her lips when she
whispered, “How can that be?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, but somehow these
boys can pull it off,” I answered with feeling.

“They sure can,” Narinda agreed, we all
looked at each other and then we all giggled again.

That was when I heard a low, warning growl
come from deep in Ghost’s throat. I turned my head to her to see
her head was turned to the top of the stairs. Then she gracefully
gained her feet but in a watchful, guarded way that made me brace
and I looked to the stairs.

Bohtan and Bain were ascending them. I
started to smile but caught the looks on their faces, felt the vibe
and heard Ghost growl again and I realized something was wrong.

I knew it definitely when Bain ordered my
girls, “Prepare your queen to take her throne. Official business.
Do it swiftly, we cannot delay.” His eyes came to me. “We await you
at the front with Zephyr.”

He said no more before he turned and both
warriors disappeared down the stairs.

What on earth?

“What’s happening, Circe?” Sabine asked in a
hushed, worried voice as I watched all five of my girls scurry to
me, leaving their fabric where it lay.

I didn’t know.

What I did know was that very soon I was
going to find out.

And I was queen so I needed to get my ass in
gear.

So I rose to my feet and whispered, “All is
well, I’m certain, but I must hurry.”

And without a look back, I hurried.

* * * * *

“The beast remains here,” Bain ordered and I
looked down at Ghost who was standing beside where I was mounted on
Zephyr at the front of the house.

“I –” I started.

“Order it to the house,” Bain commanded, I
started at his tone, one he’d never used on me. Then I nodded and
looked down at Ghost.

“Ghost, go into the house, my baby.”

She growled in a scary way that I heard as
“me” or “no” but she didn’t move.

“House, now, Ghost,” I demanded, she growled
her denial again and still didn’t move.

“We have no time for this, brother,” Bohtan
muttered.

“Very well,” Bain muttered back, jerked his
chin at Bohtan then jerked his reins and his horse turned. He took
point. I moved Zephyr behind him, Ghost prowling at my side. Bohtan
fell in at the rear.

“Bain, can you –” I called.

“No talking, my golden queen,” he ordered
and I bit my lip.

Something was wrong. Bain wasn’t like this.
Not with me.

Shit.

I rode to the top plateau with my guards and
my tigress in silence. I was wearing a gold sarong shot with white,
a white halter top, gold bands at biceps and forearms, gold hoop
earrings, gold dust on cheekbones and around my temples and my gold
crown of feathers.

Definitely, as always, the Golden Queen.

As we rounded the top of the plateau,
however, I sucked in a very unqueenly breath.

This was because I could see from afar, well
beyond the plateau on the rise leading up to it from behind
Korwahn, there was a wide sea of riders, so many there would be no
way to count, thousands, maybe tens of thousands. It was now full
on dark but I still saw them as they carried torches and not a
small amount of fires had been lit on the ground. I couldn’t make
them out but I knew they weren’t Korwahk for there were many flying
pennants flowing in the light breeze that stirred the night
air.

Korwahk warriors didn’t bother with pennants
or, at least, I’d never seen any.

And on top of the vast plateau in the
official clearing there was a throng of Korwahk warriors, maybe two
hundred, none painted except those who were in my guard.

They were all standing at what could only be
described as loose attention and they were all fully armed.

As we rode along the side of the plateau, I
saw Lahn sitting on his throne on the platform carved in stone into
the jutting lip of the plateau, a platform which had five deep
steps up. The Eunuch was by his side, my white throne of horns on
his other. And as we made it to the front, I sucked in another
breath when I saw there was a grand chair located about a foot from
the bottom step of the platform.

In it was a man wearing a steel breastplate
of armor with a black and red dragon painted on it. There was a
helmet of armor by his booted foot that had a shock of black and
red feathers shooting out of the top. But he wore breeches and
boots and, on his head, a crown pulled low, almost to his forehead,
made of gold inset with diamonds and rubies.

He was graying and jowly with ruddy cheeks
and mean, beady eyes. He had a very big gut which meant the
breastplate had to be fashioned to contain it and it made him look
ludicrous.

I did not laugh or even smile.

This was because his beady eyes were on me
and they blazed.

Beside him, my heart lurched to see, stood
Geoffrey, looking much thinner, much paler but much cleaner.

His eyes were on me too and they also
blazed.

I was thinking whatever this was, something
I already sensed was not good, was actually even worse.

Last, there were eight, tall, armed men
wearing full armor lined behind the man with the crown’s chair.

Bohtan rode to my side and muttered, “You do
not dismount. Swing your leg sidesaddle. Zahnin will deliver you to
our king.”

I gave a slight incline of my head and did
as instructed when we stopped before Lahn who did not watch us
dismount, his gaze never shifted from the man seated before
him.

As Bohtan told me, Zahnin came forward and
pulled me from Zephyr. He escorted me, with Ghost prowling close at
my side, to my throne and I vaguely realized all of his lieutenants
had formed behind us as we walked.

Lahn didn’t look at me as I moved in front
of him nor did he do so as I sat and my guards moved to flank the
backs of our thrones, Zahnin standing beside mine or next to Ghost
who had settled on her belly, her head up, her eyes on the man in
the chair, her demeanor watchful.

“You do not bow to your king?” the man in
the chair said and my eyes shot to him. “My Circe grows a big
head.”

I blinked and realized several things at
once. One, The Xacme was translating for Lahn which I thought was
weird since Lahn was mostly fluent in English. Two, this man in
front of me thought he knew me and I didn’t think that was good.
And three, I knew as a dangerous vibe slithered through the air
that Lahn did not take kindly to this man calling me his Circe.

When no one said anything, I ventured in
English, “Do I know you, sir?”

I felt that vibe coming from Lahn shift but
only to get sharper, more alert, no less dangerous.

At my words, the man in front of me returned
my blink.

“Do you know me?” he asked.

“Yes, do I know you?” I asked back.

“I would hope so, my dove, since you’ve been
warming my bed since you were fourteen years of age,” he replied
and I couldn’t contain a sharp gasp nor could I hide the disgust in
it.

Then I whispered, “What?”

His eyes narrowed. “Good question, sweet
Circe, but the what I would wish to know is what do you expect to
gain by playing this game?”

“Game?” I asked quietly, my mind reeling,
trying to catch a thought.

“
You know you are mine. You have been mine
since you were six. You became
really
mine,” he leaned forward suggestively, “when you were
fourteen.”

“That’s absurd,” I returned, not thinking
and not including the words, “and sickening” because, seriously,
fourteen? Not to mention, I’d never let this man touch me. He was
old, for one, he was gross, for another.

His brows went up and he leaned back.
“Absurd?”

“Absolutely. I’ve never seen you in my
life,” I replied.

He glared at me. Geoffrey shifted at his
side. I tried to stop myself from hyperventilating.

Then his eyes moved to Lahn. “I tire of
this. You know why we are here.”

The Xacme translated (unnecessarily) and
Lahn grunted, “Meena.”

“Yes,” The Xacme called.

“
Then I will lay down our terms. You will
see in front of you on your plain that with me, I brought thirty
thousand Middlelandian soldiers. I do know, of course, that your
savages will cut through them with all due haste. I also know,
before they do, they will ride into Korwahn and likely not be
careful who
their
swords
slash through… women,
wives,
future
warriors.
”

I sucked in breath again at his heinous
threat but he continued.

“Not to mention the warriors of yours they
will take in the process, on the eve of your riding on Maroo. This
is, I would suspect, not what you would wish just prior to you
leading your campaign.”

I would suspect it too.

He kept speaking. “In payment for you
seizing my enchantress, and to stop us from riding on Korwahn, I
will accept four trunks of Korwahk gold, four of your silver, four
of your diamonds, the same of your rubies, emeralds and sapphires
and…” he paused and looked up at Geoffrey then back at Lahn,
“another trunk of gold as payment for what you did to one of my
most trusted ambassadors.”

My eyes flew to Geoffrey who was staring at
me with unconcealed hate. Then he leaned forward and opened his
mouth wide. I leaned back instantly for even in the light of the
torches and fire pits, I saw he had no tongue.

Oh God. Lahn had had him captured and his
tongue cut out for speaking to me the day of the selection.

No wonder he was so thin and pale.

Oh
God.

I tore my eyes away from Geoffrey and looked
back at the man with the crown.

Lahn didn’t reply.

So the man did. “You delay which is
unfortunate. You must know I can easily signal my troops to ride.
I’m sure your men have been alerted and are preparing their
defense. I will countenance no delays.”

Lahn spoke then, in Korwahk, with The Eunuch
translating. “You are on Korwahk land, King Baldur, be careful how
you speak. You do not rule here.”

So this was King Baldur. Wow.

He was a jerk.

His chest puffed out. “And I’ll remind you,
you are not the only king in attendance.”

“I am the only one that matters,” Lahn
replied in Korwahk after The Eunuch translated and upon hearing it,
King Baldur instantly lost it and slammed a fleshy fist into the
arm of his chair.

“The gall!” King Baldur snapped. “You do not
respect the crown I wear; you torture my emissary and steal my
enchantress. You have no honor. I know you’re primitives but you
cannot expect to behave like this in affairs of state without
reprisal.”

“Threats of intimidation, preposterous
demands and righteous bluster may be how you conduct business in
the Northlands but you are no longer in the Northlands,” Lahn
replied (again in Korwahk).

King Baldur shifted angrily in his chair
before he cried, “This is outrageous! The woman who sits beside
you
belongs
to me!
”

I tensed but Lahn leaned forward, forearm to
knee, not aggressively, just casually and returned, “My golden
queen does not know you, how can she belong to you?”

“She lies!” King Baldur shouted with a hand
pointed in my direction and Ghost growled, pushing up on her front
paws to sitting, her blue eyes not leaving the king.

“A caution, fat man,” Lahn said in a low
voice and King Baldur’s face went red with fury when the words were
translated, “do not insult my queen.” He opened his mouth to retort
but Lahn kept speaking. “This man at your side is no emissary. He
is a spy. In the Southlands, these activities are dealt with
harshly. He has been among us for many years. He knows our ways.
His actions were foolish and his punishment swift. If he has run
crying to you like a girl then he should not have boarded the ship
that would cross the Marhac Sea that would bring him to the dust
and stone of Korwahk.”