Alyssa did not overreact. ‘You say that so casually, Gyl. I can only presume you do not believe a word I have told you of Orlac. Understand that he is a god. Tor has already seen a vision of him escaping his enchanted prison. Saxon and Sallementro were two of his keepers
whom he has already triumphed over, which is why they are here now, re-forming the Paladin in Tallinor, to fight the final battle.’
‘You truly believe this?’ Gyl looked deeply into his mother’s solemn eyes.
‘It is happening now, my son. You have to believe it too if you are going to save your Kingdom and your people. He will kill everyone. Not even a child will be spared his wrath. If you don’t trust me, everyone will perish.’
Gyl sighed and stood. He stared out once again into the courtyard, his hands resting on his hips as he considered all that he had heard these past two hours. Some of it was shocking…most of it too incredible to believe and yet his mother was convincing. He had had no idea how much pain and anguish she herself had suffered at the hands of Goth. The man had been at the palace well before Gyl’s time but he had heard plenty of stories about the former chief inquisitor. She could not have fabricated such a complex, compelling tale of heartache and suffering; or such immense magics that would restore a man’s sight and limbs and indeed bring a man back from death. Why would Alyssa, his own mother, lie to him? She had to be telling the truth.
‘What must I do?’ he said finally.
Alyssa’s expression relaxed. ‘Understand why I must leave. I am not chasing Tor. I am going to find my son. My task is to assemble the Trinity, our only hope against this fearsome god.’
‘And the Trinity is Gidyon, Lauryn and Rubyn…this is what you believe?’
She nodded. ‘If they are not, we are lost.’
‘And what can they do to fight him, these three inexperienced “warriors” from another world?’ Oh dear, he could hear the cynicism cutting into his words.
His mother shrugged. If she heard it, she was not showing it. ‘We must learn more about them. They are surely empowered, but I’ve only known them as long as you have. Their true magics and strengths are yet to be revealed.’
‘So tell me how your running off to this Heartwood achieves anything?’
‘I must find Rubyn. I told you, I watched Goth kick at the leaves covering a dead baby boy in the forest where they captured me.’
Gyl nodded sombrely. It was an horrific tale.
‘I cannot push that image from my mind. It visits me every day and has tormented my soul since the moment I saw what I believed to be my dead child. I will lay that vision to rest if I find this child…can you understand this?’
He nodded again.
‘There is more,’ she said, in a businesslike tone. ‘You must remain alert, Gyl. Every soldier should be training hard and put on battle standby. I have no idea what Orlac will do or when, but you must be ready for anything. Extra food and provisions should be stockpiled. You must make plans with your captains for the safety of your people. Set up more effective communication routes throughout the Kingdom. I don’t believe they are efficient enough to withstand whatever attack he may launch. Use this time wisely; do not waste it, son.
‘Gather your nobles and tell them in the plainest language that Tallinor is under threat. They will not
believe you but you must convince them that the Kingdom must be prepared for any eventuality. Use the excuse that as a soldier you can see that the realm is not protected appropriately and that you wish to make changes. You are a new King, they will anticipate all sorts of new laws as well as a whole new approach. Handle it carefully but firmly. They will respect your strength and follow you.’
Gyl looked aghast at all these suggestions. She was not unlike a battle commander herself, firing off instructions. Could this really be that gentle, funny, almost girlish mother of his?
He nodded. ‘All right. I will take all the precautions you suggest. And then we shall see.’ He must do this much for her or make a mockery of all her warnings. ‘Will you wait until after the coronation to leave? No one will believe it if you are not here for it,’ he added hopefully.
‘I cannot. I must make haste immediately. I will think of something for you to say.’
‘I see.’ He did not see but he realised his mother was far more determined than he initially appreciated and guessed that she had made her mind up even before the revelation of his bloodline—perhaps even as soon as she learned of the King’s passing.
‘And Tallinor is safe until this Themesius person you spoke of falls?’ Gyl worked hard at making this sound very reasonable and as though he fully believed it.
‘Tallinor is no longer safe.’
His expression creased in puzzlement. ‘Why?’
She turned sad green eyes towards him. ‘Themesius has already fallen. Orlac is free.’
Orlac stared at the woman called Juno who stood before him. His leisurely bath and massage from two extremely nervous women had brought him great pleasure. Even their jittery silence did not spoil their careful, exquisite ministrations. Orlac felt extraordinarily relaxed as he sat in his suite of magnificent rooms.
Juno was fully robed.
‘I thought I mentioned I would like you naked when I arrived,’ he said, no trace of threat in his voice.
‘My lord,’ she bowed low, once again. ‘My grandmother always said I possessed a special talent. I am something of a seer, you might say.’
‘Really?’ he replied, stepping closer and wondering what this could possibly have to do with his wanting to feel her skin against his.
Juno hurried on, resisting the temptation to step backwards at his advance. ‘Yes, indeed. When I met
you, my lord, I could sense straight away that your taste stretched beyond my plain looks.’
‘Oh come now, Juno. You do yourself a disservice,’ he said, and meant it too, for she was lovely. A little too angular perhaps, possibly not enough flesh on those bones, but nonetheless, an attractive woman. He took another casual step forward.
‘Thank you for the compliment, my lord, but may I be so presumptuous as to present you with something more in keeping with your taste for this very special first night of yours in our palace?’
He liked Juno’s defiance. She was intelligent too. He could see it in those dark and depthless eyes of hers which seemed to possess wisdom beyond the years of the young woman before him.
‘I knew a Juno once,’ he said, startling her with this change in direction of their conversation.
The woman watched him carefully. ‘Oh?’
‘Mmm, yes—may I?’ Orlac asked pointing towards a small table where wine had been laid out.
‘Oh, of course. Allow me,’ she said, cautious but moving to pour him a glass. ‘You said you were hungry, my lord. May I summon the food we have prepared?’
‘Is it poisoned?’ He displayed his brilliantly broad, white smile.
‘No, sire. We would not do such a thing.’
‘I jest with you. I would know anyway,’ he said, sitting and leaning back in his chair.
‘You look tired,’ Juno admitted, despite her discomfort at being in the room with him. She moved to pull a cord which would sound a bell outside the chamber.
‘I am. But not too tired for what I have promised
myself this night.’ He stretched languidly and was glad to see she did not flinch.
Orlac watched her let two servants into the room who nervously approached his table.
‘May we lay out your supper, sire?’ one of them asked, a tremble in her voice giving away her anxiety at being so close to this murderer of Cipreans.
‘Thank you. Juno?’ She arrived at his side. ‘You must convey to the palace household that they are not to be afraid of me. I will not harm anyone who obeys me.’
Juno nodded and then dismissed the servants, who left quietly.
‘Please eat, my lord.’
‘Won’t you join me?’
‘I shall sit with you, if you like.’
He gestured to a chair opposite.
‘You were saying that you knew a Juno once, my lord?’ she asked carefully.
‘That’s right,’ he replied, eyes scanning the array of delectable dishes as he hungrily chewed on some cheese. He spoke but seemed distracted by his need for food. ‘She was old, ancient in fact. I rather liked her, though. Her hair was silvered grey, not at all lush and shiny like yours. Her face was wrinkled and spotted; her voice croaky.’ He took another heaped ladle from a dish he was enjoying. ‘But apart from sharing the same name, the only similarity I see with you is in the eyes. Hers were rheumy, turning white with the affliction of blindness, but there is something there,’ he continued and then lost his thread of thought. ‘This supper is delightful, thank you.’
Juno inclined her head. ‘We have a wonderful young
chef at the palace. His name is Ryk Savyl and he is descended from the famous culinary family of Ildagarth.’ She watched Orlac’s eyebrows raise in acknowledgement.
‘Well, your Ryk possesses a rare talent. Please convey my appreciation of this meal to him.’
She nodded once again. He was charming. Not at all how she remembered him from when she did battle in her mind to keep his powers at bay. She cast a silent thank you to the Heartwood for returning her in this particular era of her life. Orlac had never known her as a young woman. He only remembered the Esian crone. Clever Lys. Did she know Juno might have to face him so closely again?
‘You seem far away?’ she heard him ask, which brought her thoughts back to the present and the dangerous pathway she now trod.
‘My apologies. It sounded like you were describing my grandmother earlier. It made me think of her.’
He swallowed some wine, violet eyes sparkling above the goblet. ‘The one who called you a seer?’
She nodded.
‘And you were about to tell me how you have used this talent tonight, I believe,’ he said, dabbing at his lips with a napkin.
‘This is true, sire. I have taken the liberty of selecting someone whom I believe might please you greatly.’
‘Why do you believe that you would not?’
Once again, the politeness and charm of the previous moments had almost made her overlook the god with whom she was dealing. She must not forget again. His mind was razor sharp; it moved swiftly and adeptly and she was not prepared for this direct question.
‘Why…I, well, I mentioned to you that I have the “sense”, as the old ones say. And when I met you I saw the woman in my mind’s eye who might make a perfect match for you, my lord. We wish to please you, not vex you.’
He surprised her by laughing. ‘I’m not sure whether to be insulted by you, Juno. So tell me about my ideal companion?’
‘Actually, my lord, the woman I wish to present now is not your own idea of perfection but she will be a wonderful bedmate for you tonight.’ She knew she should never have spoken of anyone other than the woman she had chosen. It was a mistake.
Orlac was intrigued. He drained his cup. ‘Oh? Tell me what your mind’s eye saw would be my idea of the perfect woman.’
Juno felt her colour rise. The woman she did see was almost the opposite of the woman chosen for him. What a fool. Her nervousness had made her mouth loose.
‘Come, don’t be coy now, Juno. It is clear you do not wish to spend the night with me, so I would hear about whom it is your skills would scry out for me.’
She knew she must answer him. ‘Well, sire, in truth I see the opposite of me. I see a woman who is golden-haired like yourself, my lord, but not tall like you—petite in fact; slim, delicately boned. I believe I noticed her eyes were a greyish green, like the sea on a stormy day.’
‘Go on,’ he encouraged, listening carefully but not looking at Juno.
Juno did not want to continue but Orlac was intimidating in his suddenly quiet demeanour. ‘Er…I saw she possessed high cheekbones, my lord. Her complexion is creamy; though there are a few freckles
around her nose which crinkles when she smiles—she has a beautiful smile and is quick to use it, as she is her temper, I believe.’
She watched the dazzling smile break across his face now. It was curious that she had never appreciated how incredibly beautiful he was during all of those centuries they did battle in the Bleak. Perhaps as the very ancient Juno the Esian—descended from a distinguished line of famous seers of Esia—fighting to save a world, she did not notice such trivial things.
‘Then I must say you are the most talented of seers. This woman in your head sounds irresistible to me.’ He stood, again abruptly changing the conversation. ‘Why don’t you introduce me to the woman who is going to make this first night in Cipres memorable?’
Juno felt her entire body relax with the relief that she had diverted his attention from herself. She wondered what she would have done had Orlac insisted she be the one he chose to bed tonight. As she bowed to him carefully, she reminded herself this was only for this one night that she had wriggled out of such duty. She would have to survive many more before the individual she waited for—the one Lys said was coming— actually arrived.
She stepped beyond the chamber, her heart still slowing from relief, and motioned to a cloaked figure who had waited patiently in a small room to be called. The person stood, her face shrouded by the hood.
‘It is time,’ Juno said.
The stranger nodded and followed her back into the chamber where Orlac had been. They noticed he had walked out onto the balcony to enjoy the night air. The
city looked particularly beautiful beneath the full moon. He had removed his shirt and stood arms stretched wide to the silver light; his body like a perfect piece of sculpture; the muscles superbly outlined on the broad framework of his flawless torso.
Juno caught her breath. Here stood a god. Proud, defiant, magnificent. Only she truly understood the terror of his powers and the darkness of the mind which fuelled hatred. She hoped he would not hurt the girl. This one beside her had readily agreed to the task though, had begged for it in fact. Whilst Orlac had privately met with the hateful Goth, Juno had given orders to make up these rooms and then personally made a hasty visit to the most sophisticated and expensive brothel in the city to choose a woman. She knew what she wanted and she had found this woman. And yet Juno had nearly decided against awarding her this special duty for there was something about the young woman’s arrogance, coupled with her desperation to be the one, which almost put Juno off. Mind you, there were few others who put up their hand. Too many had heard what had occurred in the square. No amount of gold could tempt most—there were always a few, though, for whom money talked loudly, but the chosen one needed to be special. And Juno knew a poor performance tonight might incur wrath towards the Cipreans tomorrow. No, this woman had the confidence needed to face him. She had seemed uninterested in the purse on offer and showed no fear when she learned the identity of her client. Even now there seemed no anxiety as she stood here awaiting his pleasure.
Juno had told her to come naked, sheathed only in the satin cloak provided. The woman had not batted an eyelid at the suggestion; in fact Juno believed she saw a smile twitch at the corner of the whore’s mouth. This one was experienced; would know how to pleasure Orlac and satisfy him.
Enough procrastination. She cleared her throat and he lowered his arms, turned slowly towards them. Juno cast a wish to the gods that she had chosen well. She reached for the thin cord at the woman’s neck and pulled on the bow which held the cloak together. It slipped from her shoulders soundlessly revealing the naked woman. She was tall and voluptuous with perfectly proportioned limbs and full high breasts. The woman whose head had been bowed now threw it back defiantly and a mass of raven hair fell around her. Dark eyes regarded the god while a full mouth turned up at the corners in a sensuous smile. She was exotic and arresting with a certain mystery, accentuated by the curious pale blue disk which glinted in the moonlight at her forehead.
Orlac drew a breath. She was ravishing and he could imagine this one on her knees pleasuring him as Dorgryl had promised. In fact he felt the pulse of the intruder within—a red shimmer—as it entertained a similar thought.
Juno felt relief course through her for the second time that night. The choice was perfect.
‘My lord, Orlac, may I present Xantia.’