House of Lust (30 page)

“And those who do not join you?” another voice came from the far side.  Amne pricked her ears up.  It was familiar.  So familiar.  Her heart leaped.  Trying to keep herself under control she slowly raised her head and looked at the speaker.

Dragan snorted.  “Then you can go.”

The man, his head covered in a hood, chuckled softly.  “Just like that?  What of the security?  Who’s to stop one of us telling the Koros?”

Dragan stood up angrily.  “So – let me hear each of you.  Who is in?”

Three nodded with aye’s, including the hooded man, but the rest shook their heads. 

Dragan snarled.  “So, cowards, you have determined your fate.  “Kill them.”

Guards standing by the door moved, swords in their hands.  Men cried out in anger, surprise and fear.  The blades fell and six men died in a heartbeat.  The three who had agreed to join stood up and stepped back in alarm while the guards moved in on the two remaining rebels.  There was a short clash and the two fell, but not before they had taken one guard with them.

“Fools.  Go dispose of these pieces of offal,” Dragan snapped to the guards.  The guards saluted and began dragging the corpses out, throwing them down the stairs.  Once the last was out, the guards left to dispose of the men outside in the alleyways.

Dragan sat back down and looked at the three men before him.  “So, men of courage and vision.  Each of you shall be named governor of a province.  You will be free to do as you wish to your province, provided you send me a third of all income.  Tax the people to the hilt.  It will be all yours to exploit.”

“I wish for one thing only,” the hooded man said.

“Oh?”

“Yes.  A kiss of the princess’s lips.  If she’s as good as she looks then it’ll be something I’ll remember for the rest of my life.”

Dragan scowled and glanced at Amne who was looking surprised, her lips parted, but not enraged.  Something was not right.  “Who are you?  Remove that hood!”

The man laughed.  “As you wish, traitor,” and he flung back his head coverlet.

Amne shrieked in joy.  “Lalaas!”

Lalaas’ sword was in his hand in a flash, and swinging low across the nearest man’s stomach, ripping into flesh and bone.  The man sucked in a deep breath and folded over.  Lalaas completed the swing and stepped up to Dragan who dropped the lead and desperately pulled out his sword, but Lalaas was now in between him and Amne.  The other man looked from one to the other, then to Amne.

Lalaas stood over the kneeling princess.  He kept Dragan at arm’s length with the tip of his weapon.  He glanced at the other man.  “Make your mind up now – flee and live, or stay and die.”

The man’s mouth trembled, then he turned and ran to the door, wrenching it open and disappearing.  Lalaas switched his attention back to the furious Dragan.  “Abandoned once more, but this time by your men rather than you running out on yours.”

“Shut up, lickspittle,” Dragan snarled.  “It is you who will die, but I’ll keep you alive long enough to see her being taken by me, the one man who has satisfied her in her entire life.”

“Don’t fool yourself,” Amne retorted hotly, “you’re no man, but a desperate sad and lonely braggart, trying to gain respect you ill deserve!”

“Whore!” Dragan yelled and sprang forward.   Their blades clashed and Dragan stepped two to the right, regaining his balance.  The attack he’d made had been aimed to cut into Lalaas’ neck but the guard captain had merely stood his ground and swatted him aside with contempt.

Lalaas moved sideways, keeping Amne behind him.  Dragan sneered, looking for any sign of an opening.  “Oh, how noble, protecting the distressed woman.  No doubt you’ll get some suitable reward from the palace, such as a letter of thanks.”

“My reward is to serve the Koros,” Lalaas said softly.  “And to kill those who would bring them harm.”

The rebel nobleman laughed briefly, a bark of amusement.  “Oh, how pathetically simple.  What are you, some gutter-dweller dragged into a position of responsibility by these canines and who thinks that entitles them to a lifetime of grateful servitude on your part?”

“If you like,” Lalaas said indifferently.  “A gutter-dweller acting as a noble who will vanquish you, a nobleman who acts like a gutter-dweller.”

“Hah!  You think you’re so clever, lackey!  I shall put you in your place.”  Dragan struck again, his blade angling down from high.  Lalaas moved forward a half-step and met it, then countered swiftly, his blade narrowly missing his opponent’s chest.  Dragan slid sideways thoughtfully.  This one was fast and skilled.  “Where did you learn to duel like this?”

“Self-taught.”

Dragan snorted in disbelief, then came up low, hoping to disembowel Lalaas but the captain was too alert and knocked the blow down, then slammed the pommel of his own weapon into Dragan’s unprotected face, breaking his nose.  The injured man cried out and staggered back, one hand to his face, blood beginning to dribble through his fingers.  He stared at the red on his hand, then glared up at the silent man standing before him.  “You
kivok
!  For this you die!”

Lalaas said nothing.  He merely stood waiting for the next assault.  He knew he was the better swordsman.  Dragan went at him hard, blade slamming down repeatedly.  Lalaas took the first above his head, the second wide to his left, the third close to his throat.  Dragan bared his teeth in effort, blood dribbling down his face, lips and chin.

Lalaas had decided enough was enough.  He pushed the man away and thrust forward.  Dragan parried, jumping back and almost falling over his chair.  He stepped away hurriedly but Lalaas came again, sword blurring down from high.  This was blocked but Dragan left his chest open and Lalaas twisted so he was side-on and slid the tip of his sword in between two ribs and into the heart.

Dragan stood in shock, his eyes bulging, then his knees gave way and he fell heavily to the floor, shaking the room.  Lalaas stood over him for a moment, then pulled out a small cloth and wiped his blade in distaste.  He turned back to face Amne who was still kneeling by the chair.  “It’s all over, ma’am.”

“Oh, Lalaas!  It’s Amne when we’re alone, remember?  I’m so glad to see you!”  She struggled to get up but her legs were cramped from having to kneel for so long, and the chain that bound her hands was also looped to a ring bolt in the floor that stopped her from getting away from that position.

Lalaas slid his sword away and came to her side.  He smiled and looked to see how he could free her.  There was a lock in the chain.  “Ah, Dragan must have the key.  A moment, Amne.”  He was soon back, a small brass key in his hand.  He unlocked the chain and freed Amne’s hands.  They came up around his neck, surprising him.

“Now Lalaas, you did promise to kiss me, didn’t you?  It would be bad manners not to follow that through.”

“Ah Amne…..”

“Oh, Lalaas, please, I’ve been so frightened – and then I saw you and everything was going to be alright – I knew it!  Please – you did say you would.”

Lalaas looked at her big wide eyes, the smile, the look of relief and joy on her face, then sighed.  “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Amne made a little cry of delight, then struck like a venomous slitherer, capturing his lips, thrusting her tongue past his teeth and rolling around his surprised tongue.  Lalaas held her, locked to the princess in a passionate kiss he thought he’d never have.

For Amne, it was an experience beyond words.  Her eyes shut, her world was spinning in joy, pleasure and happiness.  He kissed as good as he looked.  It was the fulfilment of one ambition she’d wanted, and she didn’t want it to end any time soon.  She almost purred in a muffled sort of way, still melding her tongue around his.  Her skin tingled and the heat built up within her.  The desire to make love to him began to engulf her.  She had to have him, she knew she had to.

Lalaas unfastened her hands from around his neck and pulled away as gently as he could.  His face was slightly flushed, and he smiled, slowly shaking his head.  “No, Amne, not that – you are married and a princess.  I am a commoner and a captain.  I would hang and I certainly do not wish to betray the principles I believe in.”

Amne whimpered and pouted.  “I want you, Lalaas, I want you!”

“I know, and you are so beautiful and desirable,” he placed his hands on her cheeks, looking deeply into her eyes.  “I would so dearly love to be yours, but we both know it cannot be.  I will not betray what I believe in; neither will I take another man’s woman.  Please, Amne, honour my wishes.”

Amne’s lips trembled.  “Lalaas…..”

“I will never have another woman, Amne.  I shall wait for you, even unto the next life if it so pleases the gods.”

“Lalaas…” Amne was now openly weeping, but not with pain, with the emotional release of being rescued, Lalaas’ words and the knowledge he was in love with her as much as she was with him.  “I will be yours one day, I promise.”

Lalaas nodded, then wiped the tears running down her face.  “Let me get you out of this humiliating slave harness.”

Amne nodded, sniffing.  His hands unfastened the leather straps around her back and the narrow strips fell away.  “Oh, now I’m naked – my clothes were discarded by him,” she indicated the corpse of Dragan, “when he took me prisoner.”

“Worry not, Amne, I came prepared,” Lalaas grinned and walked over to the back of the room.  He had brought with him a small pack and picked this up.  He returned it and opened it before Amne.  “Underclothes, and a dress – not your favourite but one good enough.”

Amne smiled in gratitude and began dressing.  Her legs were still wobbly and she leaned on Lalaas for support.  He held her and she clutched hold of him tightly.  “I bet I smell,” she observed, sniffing herself.

“Ah, to someone like me, a gutter-dweller, you smell like a crop of newly grown flowers.”

Amne chuckled.  “You’re no gutter-dweller, you’re a wonderful, handsome, gorgeous strong man.  I so love you, Lalaas.”

“Ah, I’m no perfect flawless vision you think I am.”

“Neither am I – you must think me terrible for my affairs, Lalaas.  I just can’t help it – I want you so much and The Corpse either refuses to even admit I exist half the time, or does not touch me in the way I need the rest of the time.  He has no idea how to please a woman!”

“You are a princess, a mother, a woman with such responsibilities.  I do not envy you one bit.”

Amne huffed.  “Well I would swap everything – oh alright not my two daughters, since I love them so – but everything except them to be yours.  You kiss like a god.”

“I’ve never been kissed by a god so I wouldn’t know what that is like,” Lalaas commented with a wry smile.

Amne giggled and hugged him.  “Oh, hold me, I cannot walk – my legs ache so much.”  She almost fell against him, and so Lalaas picked her up and she put her arms round his neck again, smiling contentedly.  “I don’t want to be anywhere else in the entire world than here with you now.”

“We must return to the palace.  Your husband is anxious for you to be reunited with him.”

Amne’s face fell.  “Now don’t go ruining the moment, Lalaas!  By the way, how did you find out where I was?” 

“That was simple; that fool there spread the word around he was recruiting, and it didn’t take long for us to work out who it was, so I disguised myself in the back streets and taverns and posed as an out-of-work ex-soldier.  I took up the offer when I was approached and so came here.  I was fully prepared to take whatever action I deemed necessary; Prince Elas had given me total discretion.  He is worried, Amne, so don’t be too hard on him.”

Amne nodded and allowed her rescuer to take her out of the room.  “Oh, the guards!”

“Dead by now, I suspect.  My men watched me and would have surrounded this place once I went in; I gave them orders not to allow anyone out.  If they were armed, then to take care of them, otherwise arrest them.”

He took her downstairs and out through a short passageway to the night air of Kastan City.  Amne breathed in deeply; the sky never seemed so welcome to her as it did at that moment.

A day later Lalaas was summoned to the throne room.  He was surprised.  That room wasn’t normally used by Prince Elas unless there was something significant to order, announce or issue.  Elas thought it wasn’t proper for him to use the emperor’s throne for trivial matters.  Lalaas was told to present himself in his best parade uniform.

He did so, and walked down the red carpet towards the seated duo at the end on the raised platform, Elas and Amne.  Guards flanked the carpet, smartly dressed, standing to attention with their volgars presented in the ‘guard’ position, clasped in both hands in front of them.  It was symbolic and ceremonial only.

Lalaas walked to the bottom of the platform and halted by the first step.  He knelt, his head bowed as custom dictated.  Elas commanded him to stand again.  Lalaas stood straight, he attention fixed on the two.  Elas was dressed in a white coloured jerkin with purple edging, denoting him to be of the imperial line.  A narrow golden crown sat on his head.  His face was severe – but then it always was.

Amne was Amne.  She had been completely cleaned up and dressed and smartened to the point of dazzling everyone.  Her hair was almost shimmering in the light of the candles, adorned with pins of blue gemstones and a golden tiara with blue gems inset rested atop it.