Everealm: Book One of the Everealm Series Page 11

  “It was your map that led him to the wrong room. See to it that you pay closer attention next time.”

  “Just tell him that I will be ready. And I will be waiting to hear from him.”

  One of the figures walked away, evident by the sound of crunching leaves, as whoever it was stepped off the path. Then the other figure left shortly after. Dagan waited until he was sure they were alone before summoning another ball of light in his hand, this time smaller and dimmer than before.

  “Who was that?” Sidonie asked. “I didn’t recognize the voices.”

  Dagan shook his head, then he walked a few steps to where his things were lying on the ground and began to put his shoes and robe back on. He handed her his cloak and she tossed it around herself.

  “I don’t know,” he sighed, “but whoever it was, we better tell Queen about it.”

  They left the clearing, got on the path, and heading back to the castle. Everything Dagan had wanted to tell Sidonie would just have to wait.

  Chapter Nine

  He wasn’t pleased. Not at all. His attempt to kill the queen, to abolish his only obstacle in one fell swoop, had failed. His men had failed, but the plan had been his, so there was no one to blame but himself. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t punish someone for it.

  Silas stalked around the throne room, unable to control the sheer rage he felt at knowing that his one chance to catch the bitch queen off guard was gone. Now, the castle was probably swimming with guards, day and night. Getting close to her now would be much more difficult, if not impossible. He had sent one of his best assassins to kill the queen and not only did he fail to do so, but he got himself killed in the process. Now there was one less man to do Silas’ bidding.

  He needed to make himself feel better. To cure the disappointment. To distract him from the failure lingering over him. He needed Red. However, last night he had been rough with her, causing one of her ribs to break, killing his mood and his erection. Larkin was able to mend the fracture but said that Red would need to rest for a few days to heal completely, and to prevent another break. While Silas cared little about her bones, he didn’t wish to lose another mistress, especially this soon. He hadn’t had a chance to break this one in yet. To teach her all of his tricks and hear all of the noises she could make. Leaving her in her room to heal was terribly boring and he would have to find some other way to entertain himself.

  Silas called out to one of his soldiers, requesting that Simon be summoned. The failure might not have been Simon’s per se, but as the right hand of his king, he shared in the victories and the defeats. And this surely was a defeat. And while Simon had been promoted for the success of his soldiers, he would also be punished for the failures of his soldiers. Silas certainly couldn’t punish himself, so perhaps this would settle his nerves and restore his mood.

  His soldier left to find Simon. However, Silas knew it would be some time before Simon would return. He had been sent to the village to collect tax from the merchants, a job that could take a long while as merchants in Sire were well known for hiding their revenues and lying about their profits. Sire had lost one traitor this week, already. His body was still hanging outside the castle gates, decaying, and serving as a warning to others who wished to profit off of the king’s relations, without paying the proper dues.

  Silas left the throne room in search of Vallica. She may not be a hot, feisty, red head, but she was still his wife, bound to him by duty and required to serve his needs. Especially after all of the gifts he had given her over the years. She owed him a great debt. He passed Red’s room on the way down the hall and stopped for a moment, tempted to go in and rip the bandages right off of her. Instead, he turned and started up the stairs to Vallica’s room.

  He found her reading in a chair beside her bed, wearing a long black gown, with her shiny black hair tossed over her shoulder. Silas could appreciate a woman of any age, and Vallica was prime in her forties. He had lost count of her birthdays when she had been in her thirties. At that point, it didn’t matter how old she was because she was simply too old to be his main source of fulfillment, having learned all of his tricks and worn out all of his favorite positions. There wasn’t anything new to show her or share with her, causing Silas to seek pleasure elsewhere. But when your choices were limited, as his was now, being picky was not an option.

  She looked up, displeased to see him. She didn’t stand, as his men did when he entered a room in the castle. She had grown tired of catering to his ego a long time ago. Instead, she just laid her book down on her lap and folded her hands, looking up at him.

  “Yes, Your Highness? Can I assist you with something?” Though, she didn’t need to ask. She knew why he was here. He only ever came to her room for one thing. One thing she didn’t want to give him, but couldn’t refuse.

  “I am waiting for Simon to arrive. Someone needs to answer for the great displeasure brought upon my throne. While I am waiting for him, you will help to ease the displeasure.”

  “Don’t you have a certain someone downstairs to help assist you with your displeasures, Your Highness?” Vallica knew that Red had been injured, having heard her screams all the way up the stairs last night, but she wasn’t sure of the extent of the damage. Nor did she care.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid she is unavailable at this time. She isn’t a quick study, such as yourself. She needs a while longer to learn the rules.”

  He began to undress, taking off his robe and untying his shirt. Vallica sat there, unmoving.

  “Do I need to repeat myself, wife? Or would you prefer that I undress you, myself?”

  Vallica grit her teeth and stood, pulling her laces loose slowly, trying to avoid the inevitable. Silas began to grow impatient and walked over to her. He grabbed the front of her gown and ripped it down the front, revealing her bare breasts and stomach. She gasped, but Silas just laughed.

  “Now, that’s better.” He leaned down and took one of her breasts into his mouth, biting down on her nipple, causing her to flinch.

  Pulling back now, he started to take off the rest of his clothes. Vallica slipped the remaining portion of the gown off, letting it fall onto the floor. She looked at the torn pieces, which would be impossible to fix, even by the best tailors in the village. This gown had been a gift from Silas some several years ago and now he had ripped it to shreds, thus signifying their entire relationship. He gave so he could take away. She was beginning to grow tired of his giving and of his taking.

  Silas walked around her, inspecting every part of her body. She had held up well over the years, despite how hard he tried to break her. Her slim figure was less intriguing than Red’s, but her long black hair was tantalizing. He leaned in to sniff it, taking a loud, deep breath. It smelled of rose petals. Then he grabbed a fistful of her hair and guided her over to the bed. She didn’t fight him, but she did make a few whimpering sounds when he jerked her hair harder. Bending her over the bed so he could enter from behind, he readied himself with his other hand.

  Vallica tensed up, hardening her body, ready for the assault. If she focused her mind, she could escape the pain and the shame that accompanied it. He could break her body, but he wouldn’t break her will to survive. Though she hated the man with every inch of her being, she would bear the burden and wear the scars. It was better than the alternative, which was losing her head. If she no longer had anything to offer him, he would no longer have a use for her and he would dispose of her like he did with his mistresses. She refused to fall like one of those whores.

  She clenched her teeth when she felt him move closer. Just then, there was a knock on her door. She held her breath, unsure if this distraction would save her or just delay the assault even further.

  Silas was angered by the interruption, calling out, “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

  A man’s voice rung out on the other side of the door, “My apologies, Your Highness. Simon has arrived. He is waiting in the throne room. I will send
him away, if you prefer.”

  “No, no. I will be down in a moment.”

  Vallica couldn’t breathe. Silas could still have his way with her before going downstairs. It all would depend on whether he wanted to take his anger out on Simon, more than he wanted to take his pleasure out on her.

  She felt his grip on her hair loosen, then finally he let go. She didn’t dare turn her head to look at him. If he saw the slightest hint of triumph in her face, she would be done for. She heard him putting his clothes back on and her body relaxed a bit. Then she felt fabric hit her backside. He had thrown her shredded gown at her.

  “Get dressed and come downstairs,” he said. “You aren’t going to want to miss this.”

  Then he walked out, closing the door behind him. Vallica, unable to hold herself up anymore, sank to the cold stone floor. This had been a close call, too close. And the only thing that saved her was her lover, about to be punished by Silas. She scrambled up, grabbing the first thing she could reach in her closet and throwing it on. Then she ran downstairs, trying to mentally prepare herself for whatever may happen next.

  ~*~

  “I’m sure you are wondering why you are here, Simon? Why I have taken you away from your current task to meet with me?”

  Simon didn’t answer. He knew they weren’t real questions, just dramatics that Silas liked to perform. Accompanied by the he speech he liked to give to show his power. Simon had learned to ignore it, mostly. Instead, he tried to focus on Vallica, who had just run into the throne room behind Silas. He could see the pained look in her eye, so he shot an eyebrow up at her. She shook her head. It seems the king hadn’t defiled her today. At least that could be celebrated.

  “I am very disappointed by the failed attempt to kill the queen. I had very high hopes for you, Simon. I had hoped that you were ready to lead, ready to prove your worthiness and loyalty to me. But it seems perhaps I was wrong. The assassin you sent to Junacave failed in his attempt to carry out his mission. Worse than that, he got himself killed in the process. Such a pity and a shame. But now, I must decide how to move forward. How to recover from this terrible setback in my plans.

  Silas had been walking around the hall, talking with his hands clasped together, making Simon very nervous.

  “And while I am figuring out how to make my next move, you have something to figure out as well. You need to decide which finger you would like to lose.”

  “I beg your pardon, Your Highness?” Fear crept into the back of Simon’s throat. Would his king really cut off his finger? Sure, he would maim soldiers of lesser seniority, but would he do the same to him?

  Vallica was staring at Simon, unsure if the expression on her face was as terrifying as what she was imagining. Had Silas really said what she thought she heard?

  “Yes, Simon. I will let you decide on which finger you would like to lose tonight. I can’t decide for you. Will it be on your right hand? The hand you use to hold your sword? Or will it be on your left hand? The hand you use to hold your pisser? I really could care less. That’s why it is up to you. Just be glad I haven’t decided to take an entire hand.”

  Simon was stunned, looking around the room, trying to decide if it would be easier to attempt to fight his way out than to lose a finger. But his time to react was short lived as Silas had already signaled to a soldier who was carrying over a stool and butcher’s knife, setting it down in front of Simon.

  “Your Highness,” Vallica stepped down from the thrones, hoping to defuse the situation, “perhaps Simon could earn your trust back? Perform another task, maybe? Anything you wish.” Though she knew it was futile, she had to try.

  Silas turned to her. “What I wish is for my plan to have succeeded. But since I can’t have that now, I will settle for a finger.”

  When Vallica opened her mouth to speak, Silas interrupted her, “And if you speak out against me again, wife, I will be forced to remove two of Sir Simon’s fingers.”

  Silas turned back to Simon and motioned for two soldiers to take his hands and place them on the stool. Then he picked up the butcher’s knife and held it.

  “I think I will do you a favor tonight, Simon, and take a finger from your left hand. Besides, what good is a Right Hand if he can’t hold a sword, eh? I believe your end finger will do.”

  Three soldiers held Simon’s left hand to the stool as Simon tried to fight them. Vallica started screaming when Silas lifted the knife over Simon’s finger.

  Silas paused, yelling, “Remove my wife! Now!”

  Vallica fought them, still screaming at Silas to stop as he lifted the knife and swung it down on the stool. The finger rolled off and onto the floor.

  “Noooooo!” Vallica screamed and cried out as she watched Simon going pale. The soldiers drug her, as she kicked and scratched at them, out of the throne room and into the hall, slamming the door shut behind her. She banged her fists on the door, screaming at her husband.

  How dare he? The selfish bastard. How dare he?

  Raping her was one thing, but to harm Simon, whom she loved? He was a monster. Overcome with grief and anger, Vallica took off down the hall to Red’s room.

  If he wants to hurt what I love, then two can play that game!

  Vallica burst into Red’s room, who barely had time to awaken and no time to scream before a pillow was over her head, smothering her. Letting the anger and the hate fuel her rage. Vallica held it down, suffocating the whore that her husband valued more than his own wife, taking back some of the power that had been stripped from her for so many years.

  When Red stopped struggling, Vallica removed the pillow and set it down on the bed, beside the body. Then she walked upstairs to her room, turned down her bed, laid on her own pillow, and went to sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  “And you’re positive that you didn’t recognize either of the voices?” Rowan asked, for the second time.

  Dagan shook his head. “If I heard them again, I may recognize them. But I have never heard either of them before last night. Then again, I haven’t been here for very long. There is always a chance that I haven’t met either of them yet.”

  Dagan set his mug down on a small round table beside him. He was sitting in the library with Sidonie, Bree, and Rowan, which seemed to be where the queen spent most of her days. Dagan had to admit, Bree’s library was very cozy, and a lot more comfortable than his grandfather’s study. The books in this room were neatly organized on shelves lining the walls, whereas Elric’s study was disorganized and cluttered. The large plush chairs that the four of them were sitting in fit the space perfectly. He could almost see someone curling up in this chair with a good long book. Unfortunately, though, reading wasn’t a popular past time for Dagan. He much preferred to be in the middle of the action, than to read about it.

  “And just what were the two of you doing out in the forest, alone, in the middle of the night?” Bree asked, mostly because she was curious as to why Sidonie blushed every time Dagan looked at her, and partly because Sidonie was in Bree’s care and her safety was Bree’s responsibility.

  “Er,” Dagan looked reluctant to say anything further, and Sidonie was looking down, pretending not to have heard the question. That is interesting, Bree thought. “Whatever the reason, I do wish that Sidonie would stay inside the castle walls unless accompanied by guards or a knight. The forest isn’t safe to be in alone or unprotected.”

  “But I wasn’t alone, or unprotected,” Sidonie chimed in. “Dagan was with me, and he is perfectly capable of protecting me. He is a wizard, after all.”

  Bree considered Sidonie’s words. “That is true. However, I would have a troublesome time explaining to your sister why you were without Junacave protection. And as much as I appreciate Dagan’s assistance, I really would still feel more at ease if you were in the company of kingdom guard.”

  After the resistance Dagan had shown when the queen first asked for his help, and the fact that he had tried to flee once before, he co
uld hardly blame the queen for her reluctance to trust him, especially with Sidonie’s care.

  “Actually, now that you have reminded me,” Dagan started speaking before he could stop himself. “I have considered my grandfather’s, and your, proposal for dedication to Junacave.”

  “Oh?” Bree seemed surprised by this. “And what have you decided?”

  Dagan cleared his throat and glanced over at Sidonie, who was watching him, curious about what he was going to say. He continued looking into her eyes as he said, “I have decided to declare loyalty to Junacave.”

  He watched her eyes light up. He knew that she had doubts, as well, about his commitment and he hoped this would ease her worries. And he could honestly say that he was enjoying his stay in Junacave, spending time with his grandfather and the rest of the royal family. He had bonded quickly with Rowan, and even the queen was beginning to grow on him. Then there was Sidonie. If he needed just one reason to stay, it would be her.

  “Of course… that is if you will have me,” he turned his head back to Bree. “Queen,” he said with a smirk.

  Bree had begun to grow accustomed to Dagan’s pet name for her. However, she still pretended to scowl when he said it.

  “Well… I may need to think about it for a while,” she replied, casually. Seeing the confusion that spread across Dagan’s face was comical. “Ha! I’m only joking. I would be honored. Thank you.”

  And just for good measure, she added, “Wizard.”

  ~*~

  “We will gladly lend guards for your safe keeping, Bree. One hundred, even. Just say the word.”

  Celeste was distraught over the conversation overheard by Dagan and Sidonie last night, so when Bree entered the hall for supper that evening, she was quick to offer her support.

  “Thank you, Celeste, but I don’t think that will be necessary.” Bree smiled faintly.

  “It couldn’t hurt, though,” Rowan muttered from behind Bree. He suddenly felt very inadequate as her personal guard. Someone was plotting something, that much was true, but not knowing who or what was very frustrating. He found himself wishing more now that the council had chosen someone else to protect her. But he knew well that even if they had chosen someone else, he would have stayed to look after her anyway.