Possessing Allura (23 page)

Allura winced. With desperate eyes she saw that all were seeing and pretending not to, her uncle included. Her rational mind told her all this must happen. She would be enslaved, for all to see, but still a part of her clung to her pride.

‘I want to hear you beg, Allura. Tell me you want it. Beg me to fuck you, right here on the floor.'

‘I… I do,' she cried. ‘I beg to be fucked on the floor.'

He grinned, the years falling from his face. ‘And you will be… slave.'

Allura's spine chilled at the words. Was he serious? Her discomfort made the man grin all the more. ‘And soon,' he added for emphasis. ‘Very soon.'

The image of herself so subjugated and violated in front of all these highborn people would stick in her brain, flooding her consciousness even as the arrival of Saraveeta was announced. That she was the new intentionary priestess, the great mother seer, could not be argued by her entrance. She wore a gown of silver that made her face glow. Her hair was dressed up like the wings of a perfect raven born to fly only in the pure skies of the gods. Her eyes were lit with a power, far more than human.

There was no explaining the manner of her having been chosen for the job. It may have been ordained from the start of time or more recently engineered by the gods. The old high priestess had come here to save the kingdom from Montreico, perhaps knowing she would die in the process. Then again, maybe it was a kind of suicide or natural death intended to allow Saraveeta to take her place at this exact moment in time. To that end, Montreico himself may have been a pawn all along. The ways of the gods were truly mysterious, as were the ways and identities of their servants.

‘She is breathtaking,' breathed Fortragian.

‘Let's hope she's less explosive than the last one,' muttered the baron.

Fortragian and the other men bowed deeply at her approach, making the holy sign of obeisance upon their chests. Allura, as a slave, knelt at her feet, though this woman had been her bedmate only a few hours before, showing her such mutual delight as she had never thought possible between two human beings.

‘Baron, I thank you for your hospitality, your house is indeed grand,' said the priestess, as though she had not already been living here with her former mistress.

‘And unfortunately you are making me see far more of it than I wish,' he replied.

The priestess smiled, not at all put off by his impudence. ‘I assure you that was a temporary arrangement. We shall have you below ground before you know it.'

‘I could take that two ways, priestess.'

She laughed, not the laugh of Saraveeta of old, but a deep, rich timbre. She was clearly changing, minute by minute now. ‘You are an honest man, Alexo, and you have no fear within you. Do you know how rare that is? You are what the gods treasure most, above silver and even gold.'

‘I doubt old Zuranos would put anything above his wenches, but I appreciate the sentiment.'

‘Baron, may I be allowed to take the high place upon the dais?' she enquired.

‘Be my guest,' he bowed.

The priestess inclined her head, thanked him and strode to the place Montreico had so zealously, even insanely guarded.

‘I thank all of you,' she said when comfortably seated. ‘You are all most gracious. I do apologize for the rather sensational nature of recent events, and for the suspense you must feel today. I promise all will make sense quickly. First, know that indeed I am the daughter of the king, hidden at birth to protect my life, the king acting under divine orders. There were those at the time who sought the life of the future priestess, hoping to end our line, but those persons long ago failed. So too has a more recent conspirator who hoped to use the person of the princess for his own ends.

‘This is all to great good, however, as a result of hiding me and switching me with another baby, there have arisen great confusions not easily remedied. Allura, my oldest and dearest friend, will you step forward.'

Allura rose to present herself before the priestess.

‘Allura, once princess and always my friend, you have my deepest sympathies for all that has befallen you. Had I known before I would have intervened for you. But I myself did not know who I was until the former priestess came and spoke to us in this very room. One look at her and I knew my true origins. Not only as a royal person, but as a future priestess myself. It became clear to me she was of my kind and that for whatever reason the gods had placed the next in line to her office in the birthing womb of a queen, destined to die in childbirth. The next high priestess after me may be a peasant, even a whore. We cannot say. The gods use us as they will, and the gods are always to be praised and feared. Still, as a mortal myself, Allura, I feel deeply for you.

‘More than this, I am pledged to rescue your station and restore to you what has been taken away. Grand Duke Fortragian, will you approach me?'

The man did so, offering a stiff military bow.

‘First to you, grand duke, I bring the thanks of the gods for the honorable, diligent and selfless exercise of office you have shown. The spirits of your ancestors are well pleased.'

He bowed again, clicking his heels crisply. ‘May I both live and die in service, great lady.'

‘Indeed, your place in the annals is assured and well deserved. In fact, I am of a mind to expand your station further and make you king.'

The duke's face turned ashen. ‘But priestess, begging all forgiveness, I have no wish for this, nor am I equipped. I am far too old and I have no heirs.'

‘But you could marry, could you not? Perhaps to this young woman here, whom we now know is no blood of yours or the king's. In this way the once Princess Allura will be what she should be: Queen Allura.'

‘But priestess,' cried the duke, ‘she has been as a niece, even a daughter to me, it would never seem right to my eyes.'

‘But it is the will of the gods. It fulfills the prophecy left by the former priestess. An issue of this house is to be king. That issue will be the child of you and the baroness Allura.'

Allura knelt once more and put her forehead to the floor. ‘Great lady, my uncle is right, this cannot be moral,' she protested, the sudden shock making her bold.

Saraveeta stood. ‘That which is moral is what the gods decree. Frankly, I had expected better of you all. Show a little more gratitude, if you please. You may consider this interview at an end. Baron Alexo, will you prepare my carriage. I will leave at once. Feel free to crawl back into any hole you wish after that. You have my full blessing.'

The priestess walked imperiously past him, not waiting for an answer as she exited the chamber.

Allura and Fortragian looked white as ghosts, but Alexo started to chuckle. ‘Maybe things aren't so boring up here in the sunlight after all, eh? Sorry about not being able to fuck you, Allura, but it seems you've slipped the noose of slavery yet again. We'll have to take a rain check. And Fortragian, all I can tell you is best find some eel root to keep that dick of yours hard – you're going to need it to produce that litter of fine strapping sons.'

‘This can't be,' moaned Allura.

‘The gods are cruel.' Fortragian clenched his fists. ‘The gods do as they will.'

‘No,' Allura vowed, ‘this can't be and I won't let it.'

‘Find a way to stop it,' snorted Alexo. ‘You'd as easily rope a cloud or piss yourself an ocean.'

The words hit Allura like a bolt of lightning. It was true; she could not stop it. But there was one who could. It was simple, beautiful, almost absurdly easy. ‘Thank you, yes,' she replied, ‘I will.'

And with that she was running. Running from the audience hall of the baron to the small temple of stone wherein she'd been married; the temple wherein she'd lost her virginity. It was there she would pray and seek the direct intervention of Zuranos himself.

For if indeed the gods were the highest moral law as the new priestess said, then couldn't they remake it as they willed? Especially if they had a good reason. And in Zuranos' case that reason could and would be sex.

Bolting the door behind her, removing her shoes, she faced the altar. She must steel herself, step by step in her approach, and with each press of her bare feet upon the marble she uttered a fresh prayer.

‘Hear me, great lord. Accept me. Do not turn me away, for I am yours and yours alone.'

Reaching the great stone slab she fell to her knees. For a long time she felt and heard nothing. It had always been this way for her. She had often wondered at temple services, watching others, if they had real experiences or if they merely pretended for the sake of being pious. She was wasting her time, surely, just as she had as a child when she'd come to pray for some particular thing or other she wanted.

‘I never ignored your prayers. It is simply that they were unworthy. You prayed for no one but yourself and you'd already given more than you needed.'

Allura gasped. ‘Who said that?'

‘Who do you think?'

She leaped to her feet and looked about. She saw no one. ‘Is it one of the priests?'

The voice laughed. ‘I have no need of those old fools to speak for me. I prefer my priestesses. Ever so much more delicious to possess, don't you think?'

She knew now who this was, though it did not seem possible, not in reality. ‘Father Zuranos, you are real.'

‘Am I?' The god sounded amused. ‘It is good to know this. I'm ever so grateful to hear it from the lips of such a fair maiden.'

‘I meant no disrespect.'

‘Actually it was blasphemy, but don't worry. I rather enjoy hearing my name in vain, contrary to what the priests say about me. Makes me feel all the more alive. You know really, your baron was more a man after my own heart than any of my so-called holy men.'

‘Lord, I do not seek to understand your ways, only to make my entreaty. My cause is just.'

‘By the blade of Sythos,' he boomed, his voice suddenly taking on the timbre of a thunderstorm. ‘And what do you know of justice, you whelp of a girl?'

Allura fell instinctively to her knees, cowering. The room was filled with light and there appeared before her a silver-bearded man in a loincloth, his body robust and strong, like a squire of fifty who is accustomed to hard labor. He wore about his head a laurel wreath, one of his traditional symbols of power. Allura was overwhelmed at the sight of him; he was so beautiful and utterly desirable as a man. At the same time she was filled with terror, for this was the king of the gods, the spinner of planets. In his eyes she could see it all, the depthless blue of the sea, the faraway light of the bluest star.

‘Now this is a fine form.' He flexed his biceps as though the body were a mere suit he was trying on. ‘Rather too long since I've used it, I think.'

Zuranos took a step forward, relishing every little motion, and as he approached Allura she shuffled back on her knees.

‘Child,' he chided, ‘why do you fear me? Am I not the father of you and all your kind? Do I not love you all?'

Allura thought of what the priestess had said about him taking the form of a bull-man, or a snake with a three-foot tongue for whipping. ‘Yes, Lord Zuranos, we are grateful to you and we praise your holy name.'

‘Nonsense,' he scoffed. ‘You are a race of hypocrites and opportunists. I made you in my own image, I should know. And don't think for a minute I'm pleased by flattery. It bores me to tears.'

‘It seems that the priests have misled us,' Allura noted.

‘That's their job. Without a bit of guilt and fear all would do as they pleased and there'd be no end to the messes I'd have to fix.' He lifted her chin between thumb and forefinger, his touch warming her belly and tickling her nipples instantly. ‘My, but you are a little beauty, aren't you? It never fails to amaze me how you creatures are put together, so sweetly, and so differently from your male counterparts.'

His aura was more than she could bear, and her original purpose now mixed with new needs; complicated, female needs. ‘I seek to please you, Lord Zuranos.'

He arched a brow, sending a dark chill down her spine. ‘Indeed? Brave words, don't you think?'

It was true. Allura had no idea what she was saying, and her only hope was to plead for mercy. ‘Lord Zuranos, I come on behalf of my kingdom… the priestess has decreed to us that—'

‘I know all about that.' He put a finger to her lips. ‘You have been ordained to sire a child by Fortragian, to take him as husband, yet you refuse, thereby defying my will.'

The finger stilled her lips. It was as an instrument of discipline which, well wielded, seemed capable of bringing her much agony. Desperately she beheld him, continuing her plea with eyes alone.

‘Fear not, little one, I care not if you thwart me, or hate me even. The question is what will you bargain with?' The divine finger circled her lips, making her draw short breaths. The tingle and the heat were making her limbs heavy with desire, and at his merest utterance she would open herself to him fully.