Lord Of Dragons (Book 2) (6 page)

"I like those that show some promise for our cause, Lord Oberon." Jesmia sauntered out of the shadows and revealed the sensuous beauty of her pale-white face. Her eyes were alluring pools of shimmering amber that seemed to talk to him in the secret language of lovers gazing at each other after a long separation. She stretched out long, milky fingers and caressed the sides of his face, sending a thrill of pleasure racing through him. He knew she was manipulating him with magic, but he didn't care and relished the feeling of her skin on his.

"So tell me, young master Shalinor, why have you come to Glar Bay with Princess Sebine?" Lord Oberon's gritty voice startled Tael out of the reverie of staring in fascination at Jesmia's young, firm breasts. The plummeting slit of her robe displayed a generous amount of cleavage.
 

He swiveled his sleepy eyes to study the old man. "We seek ship's passage west to the Malathian Kingdom."

"Of course you do, why else would you be here?" Lord Oberon scoffed. "To witness the feeding and harvesting of the Whisper Ones?"

Jesmia slid her slender hand into Tael's and guided him over to a reclining chair in the corner of the room. She had him sit, then placed her round hips over his and leaned back into him. He was instantly aroused and a purr of delight escaped her mouth.

Lord Oberon continued. "What I am wondering is why are you aiming for the Malathian Kingdom? Seems strange for a boy from the Kingdom of Valance to want to visit a people so hostile to your own."

"Grandfather suggests that we form—" Tael groaned as the girl ground her hips into his erection and she whimpered in pleasure as she stared back at the effect she was making on him. He cleared his throat. "That we form an alliance with the Malathians."

"Who is we?" Lord Oberon opened a wooden box on his desk and withdrew a pipe and began to stuff it with dry, black leaves. Jesmia aimed a finger and a thin tendril of flame spiraled through the air and delicately lit the pipe. The old man reclined back in his chair and puffed thoughtfully.

Tael found it quite difficult to concentrate with Jesmia sitting on his lap. "The Princess and myself, and Master Vhelan and my grandfather, we who struggle against the King."
 

Jesmia hissed and stood, flaring her long fingernails as if she planned to claw Tael's face. "Why would the Hakkadians help you?"

Her harsh action sobered Tael in an instant, and caused him to pause a moment and consider how to respond. "They believe the King an enemy of their people."

"How interesting..." Lord Oberon jutted out his chin at Jesmia, and the young woman relaxed and sat next to Tael, her eyes studying him with a newfound wariness.

"Will you allow us to board a ship west? We prefer—"

"All in good time, my boy, all in good time. We'd love for you to stay for a while and visit with us. There is much we'd like to discuss. You will cooperate, won't you?" The old man raised a thick, bushy eyebrow and shot out a ring a smoke from his wrinkled lips.

"What about Princess Sebine?" Tael felt a whisper of fear rise in his mind, and out of instinct he reached down to seize his sword.
 

"No need for that, love." Jesmia snatched his wrist. Tael found himself unable to move his body as she tugged on his hand and placed it inside her robe and his fingers slid over her soft breast. His mind felt muddled as he tried to remember what he was going to do, but the sensation of her aroused nipple and silky skin caused him to forget. She unbuckled his leather belt and removed the sword and sheath, and shoved it under the chair.
 

"Your friend will be fine, Shalinor." Tael wondered why Lord Oberon kept calling him by his last name, but Jesmia's hand caressing his stomach distracted him. "I suppose you must be tired from all that traveling, and the nightingale's song is beginning. Why don't we pick up on our little discussion in the morning? After you get some much-needed rest."
 

Lord Oberon stood and Jesmia helped Tael to his feet. His hand felt cold from losing contact with her skin.
 

"Goodnight then, young Shalinor. Jesmia will show you to your room." The old man's head trembled slightly as he watched Tael leave the room, a smile fading from his leathered face.

Jesmia's gait was slow and meandering as she led Tael down the hallway, and in his distant, dreamy vision he thought he saw the sketches on the wall come alive. He paused to stare at one painting of a man being tortured. Feminine hands tightened shackles around the man's wrists. But instead of agony on the man's face, he displayed a mad grin that captivated Tael. Jesmia pulled on Tael's hand and whispered something meaningful in his ear, but at the flowering of a sweet smile on her innocent face he forgot the words.
 

There were stairs that descended into darkness, and at her arrival, candles trickled to life and danced as the movement of their figures sent shadows swirling along the white walls. The stairwell reached down deep into the earth like a hand diving into a pond for a lost amulet. After a dreamy stretch of time filled with girlish giggles and teasing eyes and the delicate interplay of their fingers, Tael found they'd arrived in the coolness of an earthen-lined basement. She withdrew a silver key illuminated by shimmering runes and opened a steel door, then motioned for Tael to enter.

She shut and locked the door behind them. The young woman coaxed him to remove his boots, and had him sit on a bench where she washed his feet and rubbed them with some scented oil. His toes tingled and the soles of his feet felt alive for the first time in many days. He felt drowsy. His head lolled for a moment at the pleasure of her strong hands kneading the soles of his feet.

She stood abruptly and his eyes flared open. "Come along. We can't have you sleeping yet."

They strode down a dark tunnel until once again more candles came to life at Jesmia's presence, illuminating the center of a massive chamber with a faint light. She led him to a low bed covered in black silk. The room was dimly lit and he couldn't see into the darkness past the candles mounted on tall, brass stands. She shoved him onto the bed and gave him a wry grin. He wet his lips as she reached up to undo the silk ropes that were tied around her black gown.
 

Her clothes fell to the ground. Tael felt himself grow stiff as he gaped and studied her voluptuous body, a figure so unlike Sebine's girlish form. She leaned in and placed a knee on the bed. Tael was fascinated by how round her breasts were, even as she crawled over to unbutton his shirt. He reached up to cup her breasts, and delighted at their softness.

She pinched her eyes shut and moaned as he caressed her nipples. "Lord Oberon would be very angry with us if he knew we were doing this."

"I don't care," Tael whispered, and lifted his hips up as Jesmia tugged off his pants. "I don't care about anything."

A small, breathy laugh puffed from her mouth as she kissed him, her tongue like a ravenous snake burrowing its way deep into its den. Her long, slender arm reached out and gripped his erection, and she wiggled her body a bit, rubbing her smooth thighs over his skin. She kissed him harder as she squeezed her hand.

Nipples now tracing over his chest, she positioned his cock underneath her wetness, and ground her hips back and forth, rubbing herself across the shaft. His hands went down and he seized her hips in a mad rush, craving for more than just her teasing.

She gave him a devious smile. "What else"—her hips kept rubbing slowly against him—"do you plan on finding on your visit—" She released a throaty groan and struggled to speak. "...to the Malathian Empire?"
 

"The ruins..." He found it impossible to resist her. "The ancient city in the northern steppes."

Her fingers snaked down between her legs and she rubbed herself furiously, eyes squeezed shut as her mouth opened wide and she moaned in pleasure. Her body shivered as she arched her head back, hair flinging around like blades, and she screamed in erotic notes.

She calmed herself by inhaling and exhaling several times as her eyes turned cold and studied him. Tael couldn't stand it any longer. He wanted her. But when his hands reached out to grab her, she leaned into him and grappled with his hands and pinned him against the bed. Her body was strong and toned, and her resistance excited him all the more.
 

"Just close your eyes and relax. You'll like this." Jesmia traced her fingernails along his arms. He heard a metallic rattling beside the bed. She was wrapping something leathery around his wrist. The sound of a lock clicked into place and he opened his eyes to inspect.

She wagged a finger at him and told him not to peek. He knew he should feel alarmed that she was tying him down, but remembering the feeling of her hips grinding against him excited him. This was something very new in his experience, like whispers of wild encounters one heard men bragging about in taverns. After she finished securing his arms and legs, she crawled over him and straddled his hips.

"Is this what you've been waiting for?" Her voice was a raspy groan.

Tael bobbed his head and urged his hips up towards her, craving to thrust himself inside. She pushed his body down and shook her head. "Keep still, and let me do the work."

She gripped his hard shaft and rammed her hips down, sending a thrill of pleasure fluttering over her delicate face. He struggled to breathe and keep himself from going crazy.

"Now tell me everything, every morsel." She dismounted and separated from him, sending a violent agony seething in his heart. Why was she torturing him like this? "For every piece of new information, you'll be rewarded with another taste. But only just a taste each time."

Her lips raised prettily into the lovely smile of an angel. "I imagine you have a long story to tell, and I need to hear every word. I'm
talented
at hearing lies, so don't even think of telling untruths. You don't want me to leave, do you?"

He shook his head quickly, and in his hysteria begged for her to stay.
 

A playful expression formed on her face, and he knew he was doomed.

Chapter Seven

AS THE GUARDS led Sebine away from Lord Oberon's chamber, she felt tiny tendrils wrapping around her chest and strangling her heart in fear. She was terribly afraid for Tael, for what they might do to him, and she was afraid for her life. In Lord Oberon's chamber she had tried to manipulate Oberon's mind in their favor, but the woman had sensed her use of magic. Should she try and fight the guards and rescue Tael? But she doubted she had the strength or skill to resist the witch's power.
 

She was guided down several flights of stairs until they reached a dark, stone corridor. One of the lean, wicked-eyed guards grabbed a burning torch and grunted at Sebine as he motioned for her to follow. The air was dank and smelled of mold and manly sweat. She jumped in fright as she saw the whites of a prisoner's eyes staring at her behind iron bars. Were they going to lock her up in a jail cell?

"Why are you taking me here?" Her voice sounded shrill and weak, and she wished she could sound authoritative and commanding like her dealings with the soldiers in Trikar.

The guards ignored her. Sebine felt rage spill into her heart as she glanced back at the cold eyes of the guard behind her. She had to act. There was no way she'd allow herself to be chained like some animal in a prison cell. But the spells she knew required her to move her hands and chant words, and one of the guards was behind her and would certainly notice her casting. She had to wait until they were in front of her and she had some distance between them.

The guard in the front jangled his keychain and opened the lock into a steel door at the end of the corridor. He turned the key and swung open the door, revealing a dark cell. With a shove from behind, Sebine stumbled forward and glanced back in anger at the man. She went to cast the stunning spell at the man, but screamed as the other guard seized her hair and dragged her across the floor. Her arms flailed around, trying to grip his arms to stop the pain in her scalp. Instead, she found her wrists wrenched around her back as she was twisted around and shoved face-first against the wet, stone floor that stank of urine.

She was going to kill them. Starting with the pig that shoved her face in piss. Why couldn't Master Vhelan have taught her spells that didn't require hand movements or chanting? For wielding such an immensely powerful artifact as the Ring of Galdora, she hated the fact she was so weak against these men. She found herself lifted by both men and her wrists were held firm behind her back. One of the men shoved a gag into her mouth and she cough and wriggled her neck in resistance, but he just tied a leather strap around the gag and stared indifferently as if bored with the task.
 

The guards carried her inside the cell and shoved her back against the stone wall. Each guard raised one of her arms and attached an iron manacle to each wrist. The metal pinched her skin and she let out a yelp of pain and glanced at her wrist, expecting blood to dribble down her arm.