House of Lust (38 page)

He grabbed her arm and pulled hard, forcing a cry of pain from her, and made her stand up.  “I am emperor, and your husband.  You will obey me.”

“Like some slave?  Like Metila?  I don’t think you’ve got her out of your system.”

“Do not mention that woman!  I forbid it!”

“Forbid it?  Who are you talking to?  I’m not one of your frightened soldiers, petrified of incurring your displeasure.  I’m your wife!  I don’t know what’s come over you these past few seasons – but I do not like it one bit.  You’re becoming a tyrant.”

Astiras pushed her roughly onto the bed.  “I am betrayed by my own wife after she puts me through all kinds of torture for the same thing she accused me of.”

“Oh, Astiras!  You did sleep with that woman whose name is officially barred,” she said sarcastically, “while the accusations of Pepil against the captain and myself were entirely groundless.”  She was careful not to word it in the present, for she knew she would then be lying.  “We both know why you’re acting like this – it’s to get your own back on me.   Well, you have, Astiras, well done.  Congratulations.  I hope it satisfies your male ego.”

The emperor’s lips tightened.  “I demand respect, more respect than you’re giving me.”

“Respect?  Oh that’s a good one.  Respect, dear, is earned, not automatically bestowed.  Your behaviour recently has not deserved one tiny piece of respect from me.  Oh, what are you going to do?” she added, seeing his hand raised.  “Beat it into me?  Go ahead – I will seem to respect you so that you don’t hurt me, but we will both know it’s only because of that, and that you can only get my ‘respect’ through physical violence.  Is this all that our marriage has become?”  She stood up and raised her head, turning it slightly, presenting the side of her face to him.   

Astiras swore.  He turned away.  “Your precious captain still seems to mean a lot to you.  What if I punished him because of your lack of respect?”  He turned to her, his eyes boring hotly into her.  “Shall I be forced by your attitude to do it that way?”

“Oh, very good; try to make it seem as if I’m at fault.  Captain Vosgaris is blameless – why take our marital difficulties out on him?”

“Because you care more for him than you do me.  I cannot have that.  You will obey me and respect me, or he gets it.”  Astiras pointed a warning finger at her.  “I shall have him demoted, whipped and sent to one of our mines.  That way he won’t die quickly.”

“Astiras!” Isbel gasped, “that’s monstrous!”

“Well?” he loomed over her.  “Do I have your respect?  Your obedience?”

Isbel sucked in her breath.  She had to protect Vosgaris from Astiras’ increasingly erratic and violent behaviour.  “Yes,” she said heavily.

“Good – then you can satisfy my needs right now.”  He unfastened his tunic.  “Get your clothes off.”

Isbel shuddered.  She was afraid this might happen.  He seemed intent on putting her through every kind of humiliation.  Slowly, she complied, but by the time he had divested himself of all his clothing, she was only down to her undergarments.

“Hurry up!” he snarled, his excitement evident.  “I’m going to rip them off myself unless you get to it!”

Isbel bit back a cry of despair.  She pulled down her underskirt and was about to unbutton her chemise when his hands grabbed the hem and jerked it up over her head.  He spun her round and pulled her remaining item off and then pinned her face down to the bed.  She knew what was going to happen and tried to relax; fighting it would only hurt her.  She emptied her mind, and lay there.  Her legs were kicked apart brutally and he took a firm hold of her waist.

Penetration was hard, rough and sudden.  He pounded into her, grunting with every thrust, and she screwed her eyes shut, trying to distance herself from him.  He finished and remained still for a moment, enjoying his high, getting his breathing under control.  “Yesssss,” he exhaled in one long breath.  He withdrew and got up slowly.  His knees ached but he cared not.

“I don’t care whether you make an effort from now on; as long as I get what I want, you can rest assured I won’t worry.  You will not see anyone in private, or speak to them without an escort.  You are mine to do with as I please.  If not, then I cannot see any reason why you should remain empress.  Let me know and I’ll have you sent to a temple somewhere.  I’m emperor and I will have my way.”

He dressed and Isbel rolled over, sobbing.  Her world had fallen apart.  Astiras was not the man she had married.  What had happened to him?  He was becoming a terrible monster; he was increasingly unable to deal with any opposition.  Now she understood where Istan got his instability from; it must have been there all the time in Astiras, but only recently had it manifested itself.

She wondered whether his behaviour could lead to him being deposed.

The road from Kastan City to Turslenka was a comfortable one for the travelling group.  The recent paving from the capital to the Frasian/Makenian border meant that the wagons had a more rigid and reliable surface to rumble along, and there were much less incidents of wheels getting stuck in holes or mud clogging them up.  Across into Makenia there were still a few occasions when water had collected in pools or had flowed across the road leaving a wet, soggy surface, and here the wagons tended to get slowed or briefly stuck, but apart from that things went uneventfully.  There were no bandits, no raiding groups of mounted enemies, not even any bad weather apart from a couple of sudden bursts of rain that never lasted too long.

Amne had never been to Makenia, so it was a new adventure for her.  Her daughters were excited in being out in the open, and every time they stopped, either for a rest during the day to ease their legs or to have lunch, or for the night, they were off like two wild canines, and the guards were hard-pressed to keep them from running off into the wilderness.  Amne scolded them after one particularly extended chase and Kola and Stana were threatened by her that should they run off like that again they would be put in a roped-off enclosure.

The two girls behaved a little better after that, and it settled down into a session of each asking what the various geographical features or animals were when one was spotted.  Amne didn’t know all but she got help from other members of the party.

There was another thing that Amne became aware of as they progressed along the road towards Turslenka.  She was pregnant again.  Elas had been with her the last night she had been in the palace, and had been unusually attentive and caring.  Maybe he was going to miss her after all.  She smiled and put a hand across her stomach; Elas had been quite gentle with her, and it had been one of his better moments.  It seemed yet again their combined fertility had done the trick.  Well, by the time she returned to Kastan city she would be the size of a fantor.  She wasn’t looking forwards to that.

The arrival at Turslenka was colourful; the populace threw flowers and little coloured leaves into the air and she waved from the back of an equine given her by one of the guards for the occasion.  The guard walked alongside, making sure nobody got too enthusiastic at greeting her.

After they had arrived at the governor’s residence, been greeted by Thetos, Argan and the senior officials, the new arrivals had been quickly shown their quarters and allowed to wash, rest and unwind before they felt ready to properly talk.  The greetings had been brief and Argan’s smile had reminded her again of how similar to Astiras some of his mannerisms were, even though he did not look like their father.  He took after Isbel, facially.  He had shot up in height though.

She refreshed herself, made sure the girls were fine, then made her way to the main audience room, where Thetos held his hearings and official functions.  Today all appointments had been cancelled due to Amne’s arrival.

Argan was there with Thetos, both having waited for Amne for a short while.  They had passed the time discussing matters of dealing with a disagreement between two minor houses over a plot of land down by the sea.  It seemed an increase recently in piscine stocks had led to an argument over sea hunting rights and where areas of ownership lay, and it looked as if the arguments were going to spill over onto dry land.

Thetos was going to hear both parties on the morrow and had run the situation past Argan to see if the young prince had any grasp of what was needed to ensure both sides remained calm and prepared to listen.

Amne breezed in and smiled at the two.  “Hello Argan, you’ve grown!”  She kissed her half-brother on the cheek and he grinned and did likewise to her.

“And you’re just as I remember, Amne.  I’m glad to see you.”  He turned to Thetos who had stood up, sucking in his bulging stomach and puffing out his chest.

“May I present Governor Thetos Olskan.  Governor, my sister, Princess Amne Pelgion of the House of Koros.”

Thetos grasped Amne’s hand with his good one and bowed low, kissing the back of it and smiling widely.  “I am happy to make your acquaintance at last, your highness.  I have heard of your beauty, ah, but those tales are clearly sadly inadequate.”

Amne beamed.  “Oh, Governor, flattery will get you everywhere.”  She eyed his hook, noting it was a shiny, small version.  “I have heard of your hook, Governor, but I was told it was much larger.”

“I have a number of them, ma’am; this is my standard official one, but I do have some that are much bigger.”

“I would have preferred you to wear a bigger one, Governor.  I like big.”  She smiled wickedly at the governor who fought hard to restrain a burst of laughter.

Argan looked at the two in bafflement.  Clearly something was being discussed that he was unaware of.  “So what’s new, Amne?  What news from Kastan?”

“Ah,” Amne sat in a padded chair and the two did likewise.  “Well, lucky news of Venn’s gathering of an army in Kral didn’t get to the palace until after I left, or Elas might not have let me go.  After all, we are closer to the frontier here, and he would certainly not let me go to Zofela.”

“We are safe here, ma’am,” Thetos responded, nodding with emphasis.  “That Venn army would have to go through Bragal to get to us.”

“Unless there’s a second one we don’t know about in Epros,” Argan said.

“Of which there has been nothing, sire.”

Argan nodded in acceptance.  “So, tell me, when can I meet my nieces?  How are they?”

Amne laughed.  “They’re a handful!  They’re tired after such a long journey and have been put to bed.  No doubt they’ll be up and full of life later.  Probably after my bedtime!  So, news of Kastan?  Nothing is much different, Elas and Lalaas are the same.  You should write more often, by the way,” she jabbed Argan accusingly.

“Ah, sorry, Amne.  It sort of got forgotten with all my training.”

“Well don’t forget your own family.  You got my letters, didn’t you?  So you can hardly have forgotten me!”

Argan coloured.  “I’m sorry – I promise I’ll write regularly in future.” 

“Hmm, you do that or else you’ll be in trouble with me.”  She looked at Thetos.  “Governor, where is Metila?  I must meet this mysterious woman.”

Thetos looked a little uncomfortable.  “Ah, I thought it best to keep her out of the way for a while.”

“Why?  I’m not going to eat her.  From what I hear, she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.  I want to meet the woman who seduced my father, and saved Argan’s life here.”

“Ah,” Thetos looked helplessly at Argan, who shrugged.  “I’ll send for her then,” he got up and went to the door.

Amne grinned and leaned across to Argan, whispering in his ear.  “Don’t tell anyone, Argan, but I’m expecting another child.”

“Oh?  Oh!” Argan’s eyes went wild.  He glanced across at Thetos’ back, then smiled.  “Congratulations!  That’ll be three.”

“Yes, I am counting,” Amne said wryly, then chuckled.  “I’ll need to write to Elas, and father.  Could you get me a quill and parchment?”

“Yes, sure,” Argan said, and then went silent as Thetos returned.

“She’ll be here shortly.  I hope you’re not mad at her, ma’am.”

“Oh, goodness, no!  Anyone who saves the life of my kid brother,” she clapped Argan on the shoulder who looked startled, “deserves my gratitude.  As for what she and father did, well that’s between them and not for me to judge.” 
Especially as I hardly kept my marriage sacred
, she added to herself. 

Thetos waited nervously while Argan asked about her journey.  A few moments later the door opened and in came Metila, dressed plainly and with stains on her clothing.  “I come,” she said.  “From kitchen.”

Amne sniffed and nodded.  “So I can tell. 
Gharish?
”

“Yes!” Metila looked surprised.  “You know Bragalese food?”

“I spent a couple of years there living off the land.  You get used to what is available,” she silently thanked Lalaas once more.  “How do you enhance the flavour here?  The local plants aren’t available in Turslenka, surely.”

Metila shook her head.  Both women sized each other up.  Metila was shorter, darker and slimmer.  She eyed Amne’s stomach and lifted an eyebrow.  Amne smiled and put a finger to her lips.  Metila smiled and nodded.  Amne wondered how the witch had noticed, but if she was a witch then perhaps she knew or sensed things ordinary people did not.

“Tell me, Metila,” Amne said, putting an arm round the surprised Bragalese woman’s shoulders and leading her off towards the far corner, “what’s the secret of the thick sauce in
Gharish?
  I’ve tried a few times but it’s as runny as an equine’s urine!”

Metila giggled and proceeded to give the princess advice on the addition of long-grass seeds, crushed and pounded.  Amne looked relieved and sat down with the older woman, their heads close together. 

Thetos looked amazed.  “Well, sire, that’s a surprise – I would have never thought that would happen!”

“Why not?” Argan countered, “Amne is a very friendly person and so is Metila.”

The governor grinned tolerantly.  “Sire, that does not always lead to happiness.  Both women are, shall I say, strong with their opinions, and are pretty hot-tempered.  At least I know Metila is and from what I have been told, so is your sister.  Correct me if I’m wrong?”

“Oh, she does say what she thinks.  Is that bad?”

“Depends, sire.  Depends to whom and in what situation.  Still, given their backgrounds and history, I was expecting a spitting match, like two felines on a wall.”

“Oh – you think that would have happened?  That would be awful.”

Thetos fluttered his one hand.  “I don’t know, I would have liked to have watched that – from a safe distance, of course.  Piece of advice, young prince, don’t get in the way of a she-fight.  You’d end up the worse for wear.”

Argan frowned.  He wasn’t entirely sure what the governor was talking about, or whether he was being that serious.  The two women got up and returned to the two males.  Amne smiled at Metila.  “I will get more recipes from you before I leave for Zofela.”

“I like that,” Metila bowed, smiled at Thetos, bowed to Argan, then disappeared.

Amne took Argan by the arm.  “Now, Governor, with your permission, I’m going to steal my brother away from you and catch up on old times.  I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Yes ma’am,” Thetos bowed.

“And governor, wear a bigger one,” she pointed at the hook.

“You shall not be disappointed, ma’am.”

“I know I won’t, Governor,” she winked at him, then pulled a confused Argan with her out of the room.  “Come on, slow cart, you got roots growing out of your feet?”

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know, somewhere private.  Your room?”

Argan led her to his quarters and they sat down in the only two chairs there.  “So, how are you, Amne?  Is everything alright with you now?”

“Yes, honestly, you shouldn’t worry about me.”

“But being a prisoner of that horrible man!  How did that happen?  Nobody told me except that Lalaas rescued you.”

“Oh, it was too awful to speak of.  Just say he was angry at being defeated in battle by Elas a while back – you remember that battle? – well, he wanted revenge and killed poor Captain Teleken before he took me prisoner.  He hurt me but I’m not going to go into that and you really don’t need to know about that.  I’m fine now, really, and with child,” she patted herself again.

“I’m going to be an uncle again,” Argan grinned.  “Is it going to be a boy or girl?”

“Oh, don’t ask me – ask the gods; they’ll know.  So, what about you?  You’re so much taller than I remember.  You’re going to be a man before long, looking at you.  I bet you’ll be glad to finish your studies.”

Argan nodded.  “So much to learn, sometimes my head hurts.  Kerrin, too, says the same even though he learns half as much as me.”

“Oh yes, how is he?  It was sad to hear of his father’s death.  Oh, I hear you have a Bragalese slave girl to attend your every need.  What’s her name – Sasia?”

“Yes but I call her Amal, and she’s not really my slave.”

“I know, it’s just an expression.  Servant girl.  There.  Watch out for her, Argan, they can be very passionate when they get to adulthood.”

“Amne, I don’t know what to do about her.”

The princess looked at her brother.  “Tell me.”

Argan explained about the Growing Through time which was to come, and his promise to be with her at that time.  “But is it right for a prince to – be with a servant like that?  I-I mean Metila has told me what happens between….. a man and a woman….” Argan felt himself turn red.

“Oh Argan,” Amne hugged her brother.  “It’ll be alright – you’re a lovely decent boy, and soon to be man.  You made a promise and you keep it; be a man of your word.  Anyway, we both know father was with Metila, and he’s an emperor and she’s a servant.”

“Oh, yes, of course.  What do you think of Metila?”

“Extremely interesting.  I can see why she could have seduced father.  Lots of character, she knows her mind and she’s no fool.  Even speaking with her for just a few moments I saw that.”