House of Lust (59 page)

Amal laughed again.  “Well, off with your clothes.  There, it’s not often anyone has the chance to say that to a prince.”

“Only as long as you do too,” Argan grinned back, beginning to peel off his sweaty and dirty tunic.  His mail hauberk followed, much to his relief.  A leather jerkin underneath was followed by a wormspun undershirt and then his boots came off, hard boveineskin military boots.  His riding leggings came next, unfastened at the waist and lastly his wormspun underleggings.  “There, naked!”

Amal piled his washable clothes in a corner of the room and hung his mail on a stand that had been out there for that very purpose, and his boots were placed in a boot rack underneath it.  She then undressed and took his hand and led him into the wash room.  “No bath ready but I can wash you.”

“Well best hurry; its cold.”

“Hmm yes it is.” She quickly soaked a cloth in water and wiped him down, applying sweet smelling salts from a shelf next to them.  It didn’t take long and she nodded in satisfaction.  “Better.  A clean set of clothes and you’ll be fit for duty tomorrow.”

“Come on Amal, let’s get into bed; I’m freezing here.”  He took her back into the bed chamber and they climbed in bed, cuddling up, warming each other’s bodies.  Darkness came early to Makenia during the winter months and it would be a long night.  Argan relaxed and stroked her hair.  “So you missed me.  I wager it was lonely for you here at nights.”

He felt, rather than saw her nod.  “I’m so used to being with you at nights now.  Did you reply to your mother, by the way?  She’s not happy about us, is she?”

Argan sighed.  He had thought long and hard about telling the girl, and finally had decided it was only right since it concerned her.  “I have.  Mother has the best interests of the family at heart, but sometimes my interests do not run the same.  I want you with me; it feels so right and the best.  I can’t really think of not being with you, although I will have to once I marry Velka.”

“So you are going to go ahead with that?”

“Yes, I have to.  This is something I don’t really have a lot of choice with, Amal.  I’m expected to marry a good Kastanian noblewoman, and Velka has been chosen for me.  Oh, I don’t mind her, its just I don’t feel….” He grimaced and thought of a suitable word or phrase.  “The same ease and comfort I do about you.  I mean, both of us are so happy to be naked in each other’s company and yet we don’t do – it.”

“We both know we can’t yet, not until I have my Growing Through time.  I wonder when that will be – it could be any time now.”

“Hmm….. we’ll just have to see.  Are you scared about it?”

She was silent for a moment.  “Yes.”

“Really?”

She nodded, and he put his arms tight about her.  “Amal, I will be there for you, don’t you worry.  We’ll get through it together, I promise.”

“Its not the actual time that scares me,” she said softly, “it’s afterwards.  You and I will join physically, and how will we look at each other after that?  You might be horrified by what happens and not wish to see me again.  How will I feel after I suddenly become an adult Bragalese woman?  Will I look at other men and desire them, and not pay you any attention?”

“Amal, let’s not worry about that now; what will happen will be.  It’s out of our hands for the moment.  We can take it on as and when it takes place, alright?  I want to be there for you because I love you, and you love me.  Surely that is good enough?  We have a solid foundation of a friendship, and if we do not look upon one another with – desire – afterwards, then so be it, but I will still want to be your friend.”

“I want to stay with you,
Lakhani
,” Amal said looking up.  Something in her voice alerted Argan and he put a hesitant hand out and touched her face.  It was wet.

“Oh, Amal,” he breathed and softly stroked the tears from her cheeks.  Then he found her lips and kissed them tenderly, long and lovingly, and she clung to him and wept, kissing him as if it were going to be her last time.

Isbel put down Argan’s letter in exasperation.  “That boy!  He’s got this Bragalese girl sleeping with him now!”

“Really?” Astiras looked up in surprise.  “You mean they’re lovers?”

“No, at least he doesn’t say so – she’s not had her Growing Through yet.  I’ve checked with someone else down there and its common knowledge he’s taken her to his bed.  What is the empty-headed boy thinking of?”

“Sounds like he’s not so much a boy as a man now, dear,” Astiras grinned.  “Taking after his old man.”

“Oh, Astiras!  I need your help here, not some male banner hanging ceremony!”

“Oh alright,” Astiras heaved himself in his chair to face her squarely.  “So what is the issue here, dragging the Koros name through the dirt again?  Let’s see – Amne’s activities, my indiscretion, and now Argan having a Bragalese slave girl in his room.  I think we’ll be known as the House of Lust before long.”

“It’s not…” Isbel drew breath.  The word lust had triggered an image of Vosgaris in her mind, riding her hard.  The tingle that shot through her made her pause, and she thrust it away in desperation.  “It’s not funny.  We’ll be derided from Pelponia to Zipria.  We have to stop this, especially as he’s due to marry in a year or two.”

“He hasn’t actually said he will marry the Varaz girl, dear,” Astiras pointed out.  “Her father and mother are getting anxious about it, didn’t you say the other day?  So, as long as he doesn’t play hide the longsword with this slave girl it shouldn’t present too many problems.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be so crass!” Isbel snapped, her eyes flashing.  “And what of her Growing Through time?  She’s about the same age as Argan, so it could be any day now.  You know all too well how passionate those women are, and from what I hear, that time is extremely painful for any male who gets in their path.  Animals!”

Astiras pursed his lips and played with them thoughtfully.  “Argan seems the sensible type, it’s not like him to go getting involved in anything like that, wouldn’t you say?”

“Who knows, Astiras?  He’s an adolescent, and he’s going to be turning into a man within a year.  He may well have all the normal activities of a young man that age, prince or no prince.  I say it’s too much of a risk having that girl in his room with him – and sharing his bed, too!  Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“Actually, yes, I have,” Astiras admitted, then thought better of the smile that played across his features.  He assumed a serious expression.  “Argan needs to get wise to the ways of the world which is one of the things I felt he was lacking in.  Sleeping with a woman is one of the things I’ve been hoping he’d do.  He needs experience, dear, and I know what you’re going to say,” he held up his hand to forestall any protest from his wife.  “He also needs battle experience.  Yes, he does.  Keeping him packed away in cloth safe and sound does not make a boy turn into a man.  There are some things he must do if he is to grow and develop.  I’d be happy to hear he’s slaughtered his way through a regiment of Venn soldiers single handedly and then pleasured their wives all night, but of course that’s merely wishful thinking.”

“Thinking of the example you set, darling?” Isbel was extremely acidic.

“I wish!” Astiras said with feeling, then grinned.  “Not that I didn’t have a right old go in my youth.”

“Astiras!”

The emperor sighed.  “Oh, alright.  I forgot that your sense of humour deserts you when you discuss our children.  From my perspective I want a battle-toughened general loyal to us, fertile, married and both winning battles and producing children.  We need both and fast; I’m getting too old for this battle business.  My arse is sore for days after being in the saddle these days, and my joints ache like shit.  I’m going to have to hand over any battle that takes place here to Captain Bevil.”

“Are you serious?”

Astiras grumbled, looking into the crackling fire moodily.  “Yes I’m that desperate.  Istan is still four years off becoming a general and I’m little more than a battlefield mannequin these days.  It’ll have to be that idiot Bevil.”

“You should never have sent Vosgaris away; he’d be the perfect man here now.”

“I know, I know,” Astiras said moodily.  “Stupid potions.  Curse that witch, I hope she’s being tormented every day in the afterlife by a pack of demons.  I could recall him I suppose, but he’s doing a good job in Bathenia with that arse Extonos, and dealing with that attempt on his life.  What has that rogue Kalfas turned up?”

Isbel wet her lips.  Talk of Vosgaris was sending ripples of desire through her body.  “There’s a group of people in Niake who own lots of poor quality housing and they’re responsible, so Demtro says.  Vosgaris has vowed to take the housing stock, flatten it, and have fresh housing built in its place.  It seems this has unearthed a lot of illegal ownership.  The governor’s office seems to have sold off without proper representation whole streets of housing to these people.”

“What?  Who is responsible for that?  What is that turd Extonos doing?”

“Astiras, please moderate your language – it’s me you’re talking to, not your army.  That advisor Prelek got into bad company and arranged for the sale without consulting imperial land records or lawyers, forging papers, all for a low fee that he pocketed and falsified records in the council offices.  He had two accomplices that he bought, bribed them after arranging for their finances to be ruined.”

“By the gods, that advisor is going to burn for this!”

“He’s serving in the sulphur mines in Makenia, dear.  His two accomplices are part of the work gang clearing the first of the streets.  Vosgaris is leading the search for these rent gangs.  I’ve been told many have fled to the hills in the interior.”

“Well, in that case we can hardly recall him here, can we?  Bathenia needs to be sorted out.  Arrange for Extonos to be brought here.  I’m going to speak to the moron personally.  The time away from his desk may give him food for thought.”

“He has complained about his treatment at the hands of Vosgaris, dear.”

“He can stick that up his….”

“Astiras!  And can we please get back to Argan?  What are you going to do about him sleeping with this underage girl?”

“He’s underage too.”

“More the reason to speak to him about it.  He’s getting bad habits.”

“Oh no he isn’t,” Astiras countered, straightening up.  “He needs to toughen up.  Taking a woman will give him confidence.  He’s an intelligent and sensitive soul, isn’t he?  So he isn’t going to abuse this girl.  I’m happy for him to stay as he is, until he gets to Niake and marries the Varaz girl.”

“But…”

“But nothing, Isbel.  Don’t stunt his growth.  We need to worry more about Istan.  When he hits puberty which is any day now he’s going to add women to his list of issues.  You think he’s a problem now?  Wait till he realises he can – dominate women.  I’d rather send him to some all-male institution where they’ll knock sense and discipline into him, like a temple order, but we don’t have access to any these days.  Damn my predecessors, closing them all down!”

“Gallis says he’s finding it hard to keep him in line these days.  He’s growing up, too.  Astiras, I will write back to Argan and tell him I do not approve, but he must make the right decision in this matter.  As for Istan, if I were you I’d attach him to some military unit and send him out into the wilds to give him something to do with his excess energy.”

Astiras stared at Isbel.  “You know, that’s a fabulous idea!  Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because, dear, you need a woman to tell you.”

Astiras grinned.  “And what is she telling me to do now?”

“Oh, I know that look, Astiras Koros.”

“And?”

Isbel breathed in deeply.  She was fighting the urge, all that thinking of Vosgaris, but she was excited and it showed.  Astiras grinned wider.  She rolled her eyes.  Oh to the pit of fire with it!  “You always get like this when you get me cross.”

“That’s because you’re so damned attractive when you’re angry.”

“Astiras…” the word began in a reprimand but dissolved into laughter as she gave into her inner feelings.  She folded over helplessly and felt his hands take her by the arms and lift her from her chair.

“Through all these trials you’ve stuck by me, Isbel.  Sometimes I wonder why.”  He smiled into her eyes.

She stopped chuckling and fought to regain some composure.  She so wished she hadn’t given into her weakness but that was in the past and too late to do anything about it now.  “I wonder too,” she managed to say.

“We came through them together.  I’m so glad I’ve got you here with me,” he said, lying her down by the fire.  The furry animal skin rug was comfortable and she lay there, looking up at him.  He was grey, his muscles were running to fat and his face was definitely lined now.  He looked at her.  “You’re still in good shape, Isbel.  I wonder how you do it?  Look at me; I’m going to seed.”

“It’s not easy, Astiras Koros, mostly because I have to run around after you clearing up the messes you leave.  You can be so damned thoughtless, you know, and infuriating, and arrogant, and egotistical and….mmmmphh!”

She couldn’t speak as Astiras had captured her mouth with his and kissed her long and lovingly.  She closed her eyes and submitted to him.  Perhaps if she made a really good go of trying to love him better it might make up in her mind some of the wrong she felt about laying with Vosgaris, even though Astiras had transgressed on at least three occasions before her indiscretion.

“Now that was very nice, and you didn’t fight me for a change,” he said, leaning on one elbow, wincing as it sent a shard of pain up his arm.  “Have you truly forgiven me at last?”

She sighed and looked up at him.  “I suppose I have, you incorrigible lump.”

“I’ll take that as a term of endearment in that case, Isbel.  So you won’t resist my invasion of your territory, then.”

“I so love your romantic terminology,” she said sarcastically.  “Has everything got to be related to a military action?  I’m not some city or region of land; I’m your wife, for Kastan’s sake!”

“Alright, if you insist; I’m going to ravage you all night, then eat breakfast off your gorgeous body and finally exhaust myself in sending you to the gods and back, all in time for luncheon.”

Isbel shook with laughter.  “You couldn’t do that even when you were younger, so don’t go boasting you’re going to do something you can’t.”

Astiras grinned.  “You still can’t resist me though.  It’s this animal magnetism.”

“Animal something,” Isbel retorted, tugging at the greying hair on his arms.

“Ow!  Stop that!” 

Isbel tugged harder, concentrating hard, and he yelped once more, pulling her up and over his thigh with a little difficulty, then raising her behind and slapping it hard.  She yelped and pounded his legs with her fists, all to no avail.  “Stop that now!”

“You sure?  Give me until the end of the next watch?”

“Ast…” she couldn’t stop laughing.  “You’re impossible!”

He slapped her again and turned her over onto her back once more and pinned her arms above her head.  “Now you’re going to be sorry.  I’m not some fowl to pluck for your amusement!”

She gritted her teeth, trying to break free but he was far too strong for her.  “You beast!  I hate you!”

“I know, and I’m going to make you tell me that over and over.”  He kissed her throat, and worked around to her ears, nibbling them lightly.

Isbel sighed and flexed her hands open and closed.  She felt herself warming up and it wasn’t all down to the fire crackling indifferently to her side.  Her legs were trembling and she knew she was on the point of totally surrendering to him.  “Astiras, you…. you…”

“Handsome man,” he suggested, sucking on her earlobe.  “Irresistable god?”

“You…” she shook with laughter again and gave in.  He may be getting old, and slowing down, but by the gods in all the heavens and skies, he knew exactly how to touch her and pleasure her.  It was going to be an enjoyable night.

The following morning they both were late for their first appointments.  Isbel’s handmaidens dressed her and made up her hair, exchanging knowing looks.  The empress had looked as if some great beast from the wilds had sneaked in and rearranged her hair, which, she reflected, wasn’t that far from the truth.  He was infuriatingly smug and cheerfully kissed her on the cheek and ruffled her hair, much to her dismay.  “They need the practice,” he called over his shoulder and left.

“Oh, that man!” she said.  “I’m sorry, you’ll have to start again.  I’m going to be so late!”

The handmaidens giggled and began once more.

First up for Isbel was Gallis.  The ageing former cleric was worn out and apologised to the empress but he said he was unable to continue with tutoring Istan.  The boy simply was no longer interested in hearing of mathematics or physics.  He just wanted to know how to kill enemies.  Isbel granted him a pension and a small holding in northern Bragal.  The region badly needed people to resettle and rework the land, something years of war had left barren and uncared for.

Second up was Istan himself.  She sat in her chair, guards to her sides.  This needed a resolution.  Istan walked up to her reluctantly, and bowed stiffly.  He looked at her without any affection.  “Istan, your tutoring from Gallis is now finished.  He has retired.”