Gideon's Promise (Sons of Judgment Book 2) (39 page)

“No!” Valkyrie slapped down his idea of taking their shoes off before he even finished.

Gideon let it go. He may not be overly smart most days, but his parent’s marriage had taught him one thing: never tell a woman what to do when she already had a head of steam going, not if you cherish your sanity. So instead, he walked alongside her as they traveled straight through. At one point, he glanced at all the square buildings towering high above them with their windowless square holes cut into solid gold walls and wondered if they were going the right way.

“Hold on.” He closed his hand on Valkyrie’s elbow and pulled her to a stop without glancing in her direction. He scanned the road ahead of them. “I don’t think this is the way.”

Her lips thinned. “Why are there no signs?”

“Because it is not needed.” Kyros was back and standing behind them. He glanced from Gideon to Valkyrie. “And you are right. This is the wrong way.”

With a slight bend in his waist, he swept his arm dramatically in the direction he’d come from. Valkyrie shot Gideon a quick glance before stalking forward. Gideon followed silently.

They hadn’t exactly gone the wrong way, but they had gone one full block too far. They turned left through an alleyway and followed the buildings to a market with wood stands offering everything from meat, to vegetables, to fabrics. Gideon noted that most of the men were topless. Some wore only loincloths with swords strapped to their hips while the women wore light, airy dresses that showed off their backs and shoulders.

He eyed a woman they passed in a sheer purple dress. Her dark nipples were visible through the fabric, as was the patch of hair between her legs. What caught Gideon’s eye was the thinly woven threads of gold that ran lengthwise through the fabric. They were so fine that it was impossible to tell if the shimmer was from the material itself, or some trick of the light. He noted all the dresses were designed in the same fashion, all had gold hoops around the neck that held up a loose front that flowed down to cinch just around the hips. The rest fell to the ground in a flurry of skirt. All the women had their hair piled atop their heads in riots of curls and they all had dark, almost colorless eyes, like the pupils had diluted to the point where all the color was swallowed. They stood seemingly everywhere, in groups, watching passerbies. In a lot of ways, they reminded him of hookers on a street corner waiting for a john, especially when they flushed at every eye that came upon them. They became a little straighter, thrusting their breasts out and their cheeks flushed as though aroused. What really made Gideon pause was the varying ages. There were women anywhere from sixteen and up.

“It is the eve of awakening,” Kyros explained, catching Gideon’s wary glance.

Like the other three houses, the Draconian had a tendency to keep their ways and traditions secret, but there were a few Gideon had heard about. The awakening was one of them. It was like a coming of age party when women were expected to find a mate. The actual process was still a mystery, but it happened during the spring when most feral animals went into heat, which explained why the air smelled of sex.

“So we came at a bad time,” Gideon decided. He paused before adding, “No pun intended.”

Kyros tossed Gideon a glance from over a wide shoulder. “Draconian bare children in the winter. The awakening continues well into the summer. There is no right time.”

“Certainly not all these women want to have children,” Valkyrie mused. “Why are there no warrior women?”

“Women are required to bare sons who will protect our people,” Kyros said simply. “They are regarded with respect and cherished. It is our duty, as warriors, to protect our women from danger, not place them in it.”

This sat well with Valkyrie about as much getting her appendix removed with a rusty fork.

“If you respect your women, then it should be their decision whether or not they want to be used as cattle.”

Kyros stopped. He turned slowly until he was a hulking figure looming over Valkyrie. Even with her towering heels, she came to the center of his chest, but her aura was formidable.

“We do not ram them into the nearest wall and rape them, Harvester,” Kyros said in a quiet tone that rang with chilling warning. “They choose the man they want and that man will care for them and the children they bear. Neither will want for anything.”

Valkyrie narrowed her eyes. “Sounds a great deal like slavery with a hint of prostitution.”

Gideon placed a hand on her elbow, forcing her to stop. “I think we can all agree to disagree on the whole thing,” he said, attempting to break the frigid tension snapping around them. “Shall we continue?”

Kyros continued to scrutinize Valkyrie and nothing in his gaze stated he was thinking anything kind. Valkyrie stared back, unflinching. It was a Mexican standoff with neither wanting to blink first.

Finally, Kyros tipped his head a fraction of an inch back so his already narrowed eyes became thin slits that peered down the length of his nose at Valkyrie. He turned wordlessly and resumed walking.

He brought them to the foot of an extravagant stairway that led, no less than six stories, up the side of a steep incline. Gideon couldn’t make out what was at the top, but he didn’t think it would be a taco stand. His stomach gave a whimper, reminding him he hadn’t had lunch.

The sun glinted hot and piercing off every step they climbed. It was all so polished and kept so clean despite being surrounded by wilderness. His mother used to keep the front porch of Final Judgment clean by sweeping it every morning only to return an hour later and find it littered with pine needles, leaves, and the occasional bird shit. She had eventually given up, but the Draconian took hygiene to a whole new level. Not that Gideon could blame them. If he had a city of gold, he would probably spend all his time polishing it too.

They came to a landing that stretched in a wide arch around yet another set of stairs, although not as high. Gideon scowled at the three tiers. There were warriors with spears and swords patrolling the landing. Two stood at the top, over the stairs, glowering down at them. But it was the palace that made Gideon pause.

It was enormous, a sprawling structure of endless gold that gleamed stubbornly. The highest peak disappeared into the heavens. Next to it, Final Judgment was a gingerbread house. Even Arild’s palace seemed infinitely inadequate.

Their faces reflected in the walls as they entered a grand foyer. A worn carpet paved the way to a dais on which a majestic throne shone as brightly as the woman upon it. Gideon recognized her immediately, even though they had only met the once, decades ago. She was as beautiful now as she had been then with her dark, flawless skin, intimidating ochre eyes and riot of curls the exact color of blackberries. She wore a gown of gold that shimmered down her elegant frame and spilled in a pool down the dais steps. More gold dangled from her throat, her ears, and glinted at her wrists. She sat tall and regal with her hands resting comfortably on the throne armrests. She watched them approach with a calm that gave nothing away.

Kyros bowed and Gideon followed suit. Valkyrie inclined her head.

“So it is true,” Tiana mused, her tawny gaze fixed on Valkyrie. “Harvesters bow to no one.”

“We bow only to our king,” Valkyrie replied.

Tiana regarded Valkyrie with a look of dry amusement. “And what would your father say to your blatant disrespect of another’s kingdom?”

“That he would not expect your people to bow to him for he is not their king.”

The corner of Tiana’s full, red lips quirked. “Is that so? I do confess, I am disappointed.” And just like that, she dismissed Valkyrie with a simple flick of her gaze towards Gideon. “And which son of Liam are you?”

“Gideon, your highness,” Gideon replied with another bow.

While Valkyrie may have been taught not to bow, Gideon had been taught to respect others whilst in their home.

“Magnus’s twin brother.”

Gideon gave a nod. “Yes, your highness.”

“Where is Magnus?”

Gideon opened his mouth to respond that he had no idea.

Kyros beat him to it. “He has gone to see Miana.”

The Draconian queen actually smiled and it was filled with the sort of warmth a mother held for her child. “Be sure Miana behaves.”

Kyros inclined his head. “Right away, my queen.”

But rather than do it himself, he looked to one of the guards by the door, gave a brisk nod of his head and that was all it took. The guard left and the matter was settled.

It was on Gideon’s mind to ask who Miana was, because Magnus had never mentioned any such person, but opted to ask his brother directly.

“So what has brought you, little caster?”

Inwardly, Gideon grimaced at being called
little
anything, but he kept his outer expression respectful and perfectly blank.

“As her highness may be aware, veil creatures are being hunted in their homes and slaughtered—”

“I am aware,” the queen replied evenly. “What has this got to do with me and my court?”

Gideon opened his mouth.

Valkyrie broke in. “You are a keeper of the south,” she retorted with just a little too much sharpness. “Your warriors are casters. It is your duty—”

“My duty is to the angels,” Tiana replied shortly. “Not to you.”

“We mean no disrespect, your highness,” Gideon cut in before Valkyrie started a war. “We simply require information.”

The queen turned those cat-like eyes on him. “I have a fondness for your brother, caster. Because of this, I will hear you. But should the Harvester open her mouth again, I will have her thrown into the dungeon. Is that understood?”

“Yes, your highness,” Gideon said quickly before Valkyrie could open her mouth. Her anger was a physical force wafting through the chamber. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut. “Thank you.”

The queen inclined her head. “Continue.”

Gideon chose his words carefully before speaking. “Your highness has men in the deepest parts of every realm and it is our hope that you may have come across the name of those responsible, or any information you may have at all.”

Tiana was silent for several minutes while she digested his words. Ever so slowly, she lowered her gaze and studied the intricate design on her dress. Unlike the women in the town, her dress was solid and a waterfall of gold and silver. But it too contained the hoop around the neck and an exposed backing.

Finally, she looked up, met Gideon’s gaze. “I will tell you what I know,” she said. “In exchange for single night.”

Gideon stiffened. Next to him, Valkyrie did as well.

“I ... I beg your pardon, your highness?”

Tiana broke into a booming laughter much too big for her slight frame. Behind Gideon, Kyros also snickered.

“Do not look so aghast, Caster,” she teased, sobering slightly.

Gideon was smart enough to keep his features relaxed when all they wanted to do was tense.

He inclined his head politely. “Never, my lady.”

“While you are quite handsome and I would not object to teaching you a thing or two, I do not mean in my bed.” She continued to smile a smile that suggested she was laughing at him. “As I am sure you are aware, it is the eve of the awakening. It is the night before the beginning of many lives. It is a night we celebrate above all else, for this is the night our girls become women and our village is blessed with future warriors. And I wish for you to stay.” Her gaze flicked almost dismissively in Valkyrie’s direction, lingered a second before shifting away. “Both of you.”

Gideon cleared his throat. “That is very kind of—”

“That is my condition,” Tian interjected. “I will tell you everything I know and you will enjoy drinks, music, and the delicacies of our kind.”

Gideon pulled in a deep breath, forced a smile and replied, “Your highness is gracious. We would be honored.”

T
he chamber Gideon was taken to was four times the size of his room back at Final Judgment. The furniture was dark oak, polished furiously to gleam every time the sun glinted off the gold floors. The emerald green sheets were silk and matched the drapes fluttering with the quiet breeze blowing through the glassless windows. It was oddly sparse with only the necessities taking up such a grand room. An armoire, two nightstands on either side of the bed, a wardrobe, a dresser, and a small sitting area tucked away in front of an unlit fireplace. There were no carpets to stave off the cold chill coming off the floors, no paintings to brighten up the space. Just a vast emptiness that felt more prison-like than Gideon liked.

Nevertheless, he accepted his temporary quarters and the odd bit of fabric left behind by one of the girls that had shown him the way.

For a moment, when he picked it up off the bed, Gideon thought that maybe it looked so small, because it was neatly folded. But his confidence remained unimpressed even after he unfolded the bits of leather and tried to piece together just what it was.

There was a long rectangular piece and a long, thin string piece.

He held both up, hoping that if he squinted, tilted his head left, tilted his head right, their purpose would come better into focus. But all it did was put a crick in his neck, a strain behind his right eye and a horrific thought in his mind.

The long piece looked like a diaper.

“Dear god...” he muttered under his breath as it all finally made sense.

A loincloth.

They expected
him
to wear a loincloth.

While it wasn’t that he didn’t have the body for it, Gideon had never fancied paraphilic infantilism—the fetish of pretending one was a baby. Loincloths always reminded him of the times his mother would wrap one around Reggie’s bottom while she hummed and blew raspberries in his chubby belly, making him squeal and kick. It was, in Gideon’s opinion, the thing that separated grown men from infants. It was why pants were invented, so men would no longer worry if their bits were slipping out to wave to the world. But there was no decent way to refuse without insulting Tiana and there was too much at stake to worry about a penis slip.