Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (87 page)

And so it went… for candlemarks.

He couldn’t remember when he started screaming, but he did remember kicking Tiberio in the thigh. The guard went to one knee as the kick numbed his leg, but when he tried for another kick this time to the guard’s head, Tiberio smashed a fist straight up into Nisim’s groin.

The world went away in a flash of light.

Sometime later, he awoke hanging from the ropes with vomit still dripping from his shirt. His manhood was at attention but throbbing in pain from the blow. His groin felt like it was on fire. The quelimane still raged in his blood. He groaned at the ache in his testicles and stomach. He wanted to pull his legs up and hug his knees to force the agony away, but he couldn’t. He regained his feet and suffered instead groaning all the while.

“—fool! I told you not to permanently damage him!” Mireya screamed in a spittle spraying fury.

“I know what I’m doing, my lady. I pledge that he will not be maimed, in
any
way.”

Mireya’s eyes glittered. “Make certain you keep that pledge, or else I will make your last days seem like
years!
”

“Yes, lady.”

“Continue.”

“No,” Nisim groaned.

“Yes,” Mireya said in excitement.

The fist arrived.

He awoke to find himself lying down, but how he came to be there he did not know. He awoke and shrieked when he found Mireya straddling him and making free use of him. He tried to push her off, but found his hands still tied—above his head this time.

“Enjoy it, boy, you have no choice anyway,” Tiberio said from where he sat holding the rope to his hands. “Many men would envy you,” he said and laughed.

“God, save me!” he shrieked.

Mireya and Tiberio laughed at his tears and shrieks of rage.

Nisim stood in the courtyard in the rain remembering that night. If ever he had the chance, he would kill her—Tiberio too. It distressed him to realise how much he had changed from the peaceful young slave living in Talitha’s palace, but he had suffered things since then that his younger self could hardly have imagined.

“What are you doing, Nisim?”

Nisim wiped the rain from his face and turned to see Tanni standing in the doorway. He was a slave like him and a friend of sorts. “Nothing.”

“Why are you doing nothing in the rain?”

“Because it feels good.”

“Oh.”

Nisim winched up the last bucketful of water under Tanni’s eyes, and entered the kitchen to pour it into the tub. Tanni was a bit slow. Well not slow exactly, he was more a bit young for his age. It was said his mother dropped him on his head, but Nisim doubted that. He wasn’t stupid or anything. He just never thought about consequences before he acted.

“Do you need any help?” Tanni asked.

“What did Naida say you should do?”

“Oh her,” Tanni said with a shrug. “She said I was getting under foot and that I should come find you—”

Nisim grinned. Tanni and Naida were friends, but everyone needed space now and again. He felt sorry for Naida, actually. She had no one for companionship and although she wished otherwise, Tanni didn’t look at girls that way. Nisim wondered what Tanni saw when he looked upon Naida. A sister maybe… his mother?

“—the mistress. She said Mireya would be gone for a tenday!”

Nisim knew that and was heartily thankful for it. “Well, that’s all right then. Come here and hold this,” he said giving Tanni the drying cloth. “I’ll wash this stuff, you dry it and put it
carefully
away.”

“All right,” Tanni said with a pleased smile.

“No breaking things, mind. You’ll get me into trouble.”

“I won’t.”

Nisim busied himself with the washing, but kept a wary eye on Tanni as he put the jugs, plates, and other things away. He trusted Tanni to do what he was told, but the man was easily distracted and could become careless.

“Nisim…”

“Yes?” he said absently as he struggled to lift the big cooking pot into the water. He managed it finally and began scraping the congealed mess off it. No one liked cleaning it, which was why it needed one so badly. He would rather do it himself to ensure his food came from somewhere at least half clean.

“What’s it like to bed a woman?”

Nisim’s eyebrows climbed. This
was
Tanni, wasn’t it? The same Tanni who could walk through a room full of naked women without noticing?

“Well it’s… and then it feels…” Nisim broke off suddenly red-faced and flustered. “Well it’s… nice,” he finished lamely.

“Nice?”

“Yes, it’s nice… warm and nice,” Nisim said. Unless he was with Mireya of course, then it was ghastly. “When I’m with someone I like, it makes me feel happy… like I was free.”

Tanni thought about that for a long moment. “I wish Naida would let me…
you know
.”

“Do you want to,
you know
, with Naida?”

Tanni nodded.

Nisim smiled and rubbed at a stubborn piece of crust on the pot. “All you have to do is ask her. She likes you.”

“Not really,” Tanni said kicking the table leg like a child.

“She does, but she doesn’t think you like her.”

“But I do! I really,
really
do!”

“Well tell her then.”

“Just like that? Tell her?”

“Certainly,” Nisim said with amusement. “When next you see her say this: I really like you, Naida, and if you like me, let me take you to bed.”

“I couldn’t say
that!
” Tanni spluttered.

“Why not?”

“Because she would laugh!”

“No she wouldn’t. She’s a kind person, Tanni. Just wait until you two are alone and say it. You’ll never know otherwise.”

“I don’t know,” Tanni said frowning as he dried a plate.

“That one’s done.”

“What?”

“The plate? It’s dry.”

“Oh,” Tanni said and wandered away to a cupboard. “Do you think she will let me…
you know
?”

Nisim laughed and flicked water at Tanni. “I think she will, but not unless you ask her nicely!”

“I’ll do it!”

“Well
good!
I’m glad that’s sorted out.”

“What is?” Naida said as she came in carrying a tray. “What?” she said staring at Nisim and Tanni as they giggled together. “Men!” she said leaving the tray on the table and walking back the way she came. “Don’t understand them.
Mutter
,
mutter,
always doing silly things,
mumble
…”

Tanni forgot about drying plates and chased after his friend.

Later that night, Nisim watched Naida and Tanni slip away from the dinner table and smiled secretly. He was glad for Naida especially. She wasn’t allowed off the grounds and was alone too much. Slaves could not marry of course, but they could have children. Even that was denied Naida. She had been hurt when she was small and couldn’t have babies now. Another reason to hate Mireya and her guards.

“The mistress is away for a tenday—” Adien was saying.

Nisim nodded and used a piece of bread to clean his plate. That was one good thing. Mireya insisted on the best food, which meant the slaves ate well of her scraps. Adien was a good cook. She knew all there was to know about herbs and seasonings. Everyone looked forward to mealtimes here. She always made more than enough for everyone.

“—and I was thinking…”

“What?” Nisim said still stuffing himself.

“Weeeell,” Adien said slyly. “Since she’s gone, that means you’re all alone.”

Nisim swallowed and coughed. He took a sip of water to wash his food down. “Er well no—I mean
yes
I’m alone, but I don’t mind!”

That was an understatement. The sick bitch used him so hard that he was sore for days after, and she never let him rest. It was agony. It was so bad, he was becoming dependent on the quelimane to rise in Mireya’s presence, and that was dangerous. He would much rather stick a knife in her than his manhood, less painful—for him anyway.

“I really don’t mind… really… I like sleeping alone… truly I do,” he said looking for an escape. The others chuckled at his stammering.

“Poor Nisim, nowhere to run—”

“Who would run from that?”

“Go get him, Adien!” someone called and more laughter arose.

If only they knew, but he wouldn’t tell them. It was too much humiliation. Mireya and Tiberio did whatever they wanted to him whenever they felt like it, and there was nothing short of his or Mireya’s death he could do about it. He didn’t mind playing along with his friend’s jests, as long as they
were
jests, but he was starting to think that things were different this time. He was in no mood for games today. He shoved back from the table and stood to leave, but Adien followed him and pressed him into the corner.

“I… really should be… ermmm… fetching the water! Yes, I have to fetch the water for—”

“You like my pies, don’t you?” Naida said.

“It was delicious!” he said back on safer ground.

“Want some more?”

“Er… yes?”

“You can have as much as you like, Nisim, for a price.”

“What price?” he said warily.

“I want to see what you do for Mireya that’s so good!” Adien said with a grin that began to wilt as soon as she saw the effect on him. She gasped, “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it Nisim, I—”

His face was granite. “Never. I will never show you, or anyone. Leave me alone!” he shouted and stormed outside.

“I’m sorry!” Adien cried after him.

He stumbled outside and ran to a corner of the yard. He knew he was being watched by the guards but he didn’t care. He hammered his fists against the stone of the wall in pent up rage and frustration.

I want out of here!

Nisim came back to himself with his fists throbbing and bruised. He sighed. It was a good thing Mireya wasn’t here. The way he felt now, he would kill her the moment he saw her and damn the consequences.

“Nisim?” Adien said hesitantly from out of the shadows. “Are you all right now?”

“No, not really.”

“I’m sorry about… you don’t have to…”

“You don’t know what she—” he shut that part of his life away refusing to think about it. “I promise you, you wouldn’t like what the mistress likes.”

“I believe you,” Adien said and turned sadly away.

“Adien?”

“Yes?”

“If you want—” he hesitated. Did he really want to do this? No, he didn’t, but he missed Trista and the others. He even missed mistress Lakshmi! He had friends here in Mireya’s house, but it wasn’t the same. They weren’t whores like him. He missed the feeling of family they shared and especially the sound of their breathing in the slave quarters when he couldn’t sleep. He missed talking to Nona and the others when he felt depressed. He wanted…
needed
, someone to talk to again. He took a deep steadying breath. “If you want, I could show you what I like.”

“I would like that.”

He stepped forward and hugged her to his side. “I know a place,” he said and led her there.

And show her he did, all night without pain or drugs. It was like rediscovering himself. Mireya hadn’t destroyed his old self. She had simply buried him with her brutality. Adien brought him back, and the world became a better place. He was so very thankful, but it was she who thanked him.

“That was wonderful, Nisim. Did the Matriarch…?”

“No, Jarek supplied my teachers so I would please her.”

“They were
very
good!” Adien said chuckling.

“Yes,” he grinned.

“Can we?”

He smiled. Rather than answer her with words, he made his body answer for him. The next day found them still entwined naked together, but the others covered for them. They were all good people, but still Nisim wished himself back with Trista and the others.

* * *

9 ~ Conspiracies

Julia was sitting with her friends in her private suite within the women’s quarter of the palace. Mathius was resplendent in his best yellow robe and looked very stern and powerful just as they had planned. Lucius had decided to play his forbidding wizard routine and it had worked better than even he had expected. The image of his piercing eyes and strong jaw was firmly branded upon Lord and Lady alike. His quiet presence had rattled more than a few of them, the latest of which had been Lord Horton who had just left.

“That didn’t go at all well,” Julia said with a sigh. “I could have handled that better.”

Jihan finished folding the letters addressed to his father from Horton. “Perhaps you could have, but no harm was done.”

“How can you say that? I botched the entire thing!”

“I would wager that Horton came here out of curiosity. He never had any intention of being swayed by anything we said. He is a strong supporter of Meagan—his presence at Herstal suggests it at least.”

“Of Meagan, my lord?” Lucius said. “Are we sure it will be Meagan?”

Jihan nodded. “I think it’s quite likely.”

“I’m not sure I agree,” Julia said with a frown. “If I were to choose between Horton and Meagan, I’d choose Horton—no question.”

“So would I,” Jihan said. “But the choice isn’t ours, nor is it between those two alone.”

She nodded, he was right about that. Jihan’s father, then Lord Malcor, had sent messengers all over Deva with proposals tantamount to treason. Athlone died for his crimes at Jihan’s hand, but his co-conspirators were very much alive and thus able to influence the vote on who would become the next King of Deva.

Just then, there came a knock upon the door. Mathius rose to see who had come calling. He stepped back and allowed their visitor to enter. “Lady Julia, may I present Lord Robsort?” Mathius intoned formally. “Lord Robsort, this is Lady Julia—Sorceress of Athione.”

Robsort bowed stiffly. “Honoured.”

The poor man was pale and visibly uneasy. Julia rose and clasped Robsort’s hands. They were shaking.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Lord Robsort. Please have a seat. Can I offer you a glass of wine?”

Robsort flicked a nervous glance at the red robed figure sitting silently in the corner.

“Forgive me, Robsort,” Julia said. “Allow me to introduce my dear friend Lucius. You’ve met Mathius of course, and Lord Malcor.”