Emperor of Shadows Page 7

  “Yes,” said Yavarn, nodding slowly. “It goes against convention and precedent, but you are right, Manticora. We cannot go without leadership in such troubled times.”

  “Agreed,” muttered Tempork, and the others nodded right after.

  “But whom do we nominate?” Eamus looked about the group.

  “That is best discussed in the Star Chamber with all councilors present,” said Yavarn, voice crackling with newfound authority and confidence. “We shall send runners to every councilor and tell them to be present at the third bell. Then we shall determine the nominations and take a vote. Yes. Very good. Very good indeed.”

  “Very wise, my lords,” I said, giving them just enough time to take ownership of the decision. “In the meantime, we need to rouse the militia to help the guard control the streets.”

  “The commander of the guard is missing,” said Yavarn. “Without one, we cannot issue the general summons.”

  “Then we must appoint a new commander,” I said smoothly. “Someone who will earn the trust of the people.”

  “There are numerous candidates within the guard’s hierarchy,” said Magistrate Daramond. “I myself would be willing to spearhead the initiative, seeing as I have an extensive military background.”

  The councilors began to make approving noises, but I quickly stepped in. “Very gracious of you, magistrate. However, your marines need you now more than ever.” A touch of power cemented that notion in his mind. “All the councilors should remain ready to vote for the new Royal Provost and focused on matters governmental. I thus volunteer myself, as I am, as you all know, little more than a wealthy wastrel in need of an occupation. What better use for a man like me than to send him south of the Snake Head to deal with the very people I’ve professed to love all along?”

  Again, I added just enough king troll power to the suggestion to make it impossible to ignore while not going so far as to clobber them over the head with it.

  For a moment they all stared at me blankly, and then eyes narrowed, they exchanged glances, and I could almost see my suggestion worming its way into their minds, latching on to their biases and predispositions.

  As the Count of Manticora I’d made such a fuss over the people’s rights. Wouldn’t it be fitting if I were sent out to deal with the unwashed masses as a result, to be placed in danger by the very crowds I’d sought to appease?

  “This suits me well,” said Yavarn, speaking slowly as he considered the proposition. “After all, you have the common touch, do you not, Manticora? You would be expected to be a presence on the front lines, however. No directing activity from the comfort of your mansion.”

  I grinned toothily at the man. His calculations were so transparent. “I’m willing to suffer for the people of Port Gloom, councilor. I only hope I can make some small difference in the difficult times to come.”

  “You’re so pleased with yourself, aren’t you, Manticora?” Yavarn’s tone was chilling. “Yet not too long ago Magistrate Mellonis outdid you on all counts in the Star Chamber. Don’t forget the limits of your power.”

  “Oh, I’ve no intention of forgetting my limits,” I said, pushing off the window sill. “I fully plan to exercise them to the greatest degree. But if someone will compose me writ granting me full control of the militia, I’ll get to work.”

  The councilors and magistrates glared at me, but Yavarn nodded stiffly at last, and we followed Veserigard to a side table where parchment and quills were available.

  With practiced ease, the councilor wrote a note deputizing me as the pro-tem commander of the guard, signing it and pressing his seal into the hot red wax. The other councilors signed below, and just like that, I gained control of the armed forces of Port Gloom.

  “Now,” said Yavarn, dismissing me as he turned back to Veserigard. “Answer our question. Where is Aurelius?”

  “Councilors.” My voice was hard as granite. “You have done all that can be done here today. Return to your homes and offices, and prepare for today’s meeting at third bell.”

  The small crowd stared at me, faces blank, and then as one they blinked, nodded vaguely, and turned to leave.

  Veserigard watched them go with bleak satisfaction. Once the last of them passed out into the hallway beyond, he turned to me. “It’s been some time since I’ve seen them handled so brusquely. I must admit it’s quite pleasing.”

  “Aurelius was more subtle.”

  “Infinitely so. He said the sign of proper stewardship was not needing to use his power at all. He had the machinery of government and the Family so finely calibrated that it nearly ran itself without needing his intercession at all.”

  “I’m not there yet. Now. Before I head out. I want you to fetch me a map of Port Gloom, and mark the bases of each Aunt and Uncle, as well as providing me with a detailed profile of their natures and powers.”

  Veserigard bowed low. “But of course.”

  “And - question. Gloom Knights. What’s their deal?”

  “Their deal?”

  “Where do their powers come from? Always been a big mystery. How are they created, and who controls them?”

  “I see. Yes. Well, the process is a complicated one. In effect, Aurelius would bring the applicant to a state of near death and then revive them. Doing so repeatedly under controlled conditions would cause large amounts of their personality to bleed over into the Ashen Gardens without their dying outright, and… something… would inevitably cross from the Gardens and take up residence in those spaces.”

  I stared at the man, aghast. “Something?”

  “At first Aurelius thought them spirits of the dead, but he came to realize later they were spirits of darkness, or more accurately, demons. Minor demons, very minor, but it was the path that eventually brought him to Arasim’s attention.”

  “Arasim, right. Who by the Hanged God’s ever-pumping hips is that?”

  Veserigard’s false smile died altogether on his lips. “A very dangerous man. From the east, I believe. Though who can be sure? He came to Aurelius several decades ago. Made many promises, and was able to resist Aurelius’s powers, which impressed him greatly. He is a master of demons, and it was with his help that Aurelius was able to implant them into his Aunts and Uncles, further empowering them and ensuring their loyalty.”

  “Where is he, this Arasim?”

  Veserigard shrugged. “Who knows? He doesn’t reside in Port Gloom, but would visit when needed. I’m sure Aurelius had a way to contact him, but he never shared it with me.”

  “Got it. Right.” I bit my thumbnail as I contemplated these revelations. “So the Gloom Knights are like… weaker versions of the Aunts and Uncles?”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. But the process robbed them of most of their own volitions and personality. Rendered them into little more than tools. Tools whose loyalty lay unquestionably with the Aunts, Uncles, and Grandfather.”

  “So if I were to give one a command?”

  Veserigard shook his head slowly. “No good. The imp within their soul would shield them from your influence.”

  “Great. Just like the Aunts and Uncles.”

  “Alas.”

  “Sure. You’re heartbroken.” I scowled and studied my writ. The ink was nearly dry. “Still, nothing that a thousand armed militia guards can’t deal with. Time to start cleaning up shop.”

  “Happy hunting, my lord.”

  I paused, studied Veserigard, who returned my gaze with blank equanimity. And suddenly I understood the annoyance and disgust with which Yavarn had spoken to me.

  “Don’t get too comfortable, Veserigard.”

  His expression remained bland. “Would my lord like me to sit on some broken bricks, or perhaps wear a hair suit?”

  “No. Just remember to keep my best interests at heart.”

  “I am literally unable to do otherwise.”

  Again I studied him, and again I was defeated by his blank look of helpful servility.

  “Then hurry and get that list of Aunt
s and Uncles to me. Include anything of value to wiping them out with an armed force.”

  “At once, my lord.” And he stepped away to the side desk, where he took up a quill and set to writing.

  Uncomfortable and annoyed, I left the study and headed out into the hallway. Veserigard would need at least half an hour to compile the information. I hadn’t slept in two days, but felt restless, on edge, unable to relax.

  To explore Aurelius’s manor? Plumb its depths, reveal what further secrets it might contain? There were basement levels below basement levels. Who knew what might be found below?

  But no. I was tired of secrets, of intrigue, of fresh horrors. For all I knew I’d find a dungeon filled with Aurelius’s most hated prisoners, set to torturing themselves for eternity.

  I stuck my head back into the sitting room. “Veserigard.”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Is there a dungeon on the premises?”

  “No, my lord.”

  “Any prisoners?”

  “None, my lord. The late Master Aurelius found the screaming gauche.”

  “Is there a dungeon somewhere else?”

  “Several, my lord. They’re under control the control of the Aunts and Uncles, however.”

  “Then I’ll liberate them when I destroy them?”

  “I would imagine so, my lord.”

  “Excellent. Carry on.”

  And I stepped back out into the hall. That was a relief. Not knowing where I was going, I wandered, climbing the stairs to the second level, and down the hall. Pogo had gone out to the stables to check in on Pony. Netherys and Cerys were resting.

  Resting where?

  I paused at one closed door, cracking it open to see an empty music room. Moving to the next door, cracked it open as well - a bedroom, the curtains drawn, a shape asleep beneath heavy covers.

  I slipped inside and closed the door. Padding over to the bed, I saw Netherys asleep, her white hair fanned out across her pillow, eyes gently closed, chest rising and falling slowly.

  From her bare shoulders, her exposed cleavage, and the expanse of bare leg emerging from the side of the covers, it was clear she’d gone to sleep most naked.

  I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers gently back, exposing her body. Her beauty was ethereal, her limbs long, her breasts high and the perfect size to cup in the palm of my hand, her nipples pale, her skin flawless.

  I pulled the covers aside further, revealing her stomach, her smooth abdomen, then her pussy, covered in a modest patch of white hair, the lips tight.

  Something feral and primitive stirred within me. I half-rose, undid the laces of my breeches, and pushed them down over my hips. Moving to stand beside her, I leaned forward, and slowly, deliberately, rubbed the head of my cock across her perfect lips.

  It was mesmerizing to see her peerless high elven beauty beneath my cock. It felt heretical, impossibly bold, but when her eyes opened and those perfect lips curved into a smile, I knew this was still my Netherys, the dark elf who’d rejoiced in enjoying my body, in giving me hers.

  No words. Her green eyes alive with sudden desire, she parted her lips and extended her tongue to trace a line of fire around the circumference of my cock head. Then reaching up, she grasped it by the base and pulled down so that the skin of the shaft grew tight, the head straining as she continued to tease it, her touch warm and wet.

  My heart was pounding. A storm of emotions was whirling within me. Horror and lust, despair and hope, determination and fear. So much was happening so quickly that I couldn’t keep track of it. Couldn’t keep track of my own growth. In just one night I’d lost Iris, Yashara, and Havatier. Had killed my father, and begun the process of taking over Port Gloom.

  It was too much. Too much to encompass, to understand, to wrap my mind around.

  But this. This was sweet relief. This was the purest form of escape. This was a woman I loved, who had been with me since the beginning; she had sacrificed her very nature for our love, who had saved me from petrification, from countless deaths.

  I reached down and grasped a fistful of white hair, pulling her up even as I leaned forward and slowly buried my cock deep in her mouth.

  Her hands moved around to cup my ass as she took all of me, eyes narrowing with focus, watering as my cock hit the back of her throat. When I went to pull back she held me in place, grip strong, and with a thrust forced her face right into my crotch, my cock sliding down her throat.

  “Fuck,” I hissed, the sensation exquisite, the image of the high elf deep-throating me searing itself in my memory.

  With a gasp, she fell back, a thick strand of saliva hanging like a suspension bridge between my cock and her lower lips.

  “Looks like you haven’t changed that much,” I said, voice hoarse with desire.

  She reached up to wipe at her mouth. “I’m still very much a woman, Kellik. A woman who wants everything you have to give.”

  I slowly pulsed my hips back and forth, thrusting my cock alongside her high cheek, the skin flawless. “You still have the same dark desires as you once did?”

  “I can sense them,” she whispered, reaching up to palm my cock, press it against her face to provide friction. “In my depths. I’ve only been a high elf for a night. I’m still very close to the being I once was.”

  “So if we push this? If we explore those deep desires?”

  Her eyes glittered. “Who knows what may come to pass?”

  And with that, she sat up, took my cock in both hands, and began to work me. Long slow passes down the side, lips cupping me, then taking all of me into her mouth, tongue undulating under my shaft.

  Back and forth, pale hair clenched once more in my fist, she sucked hard, coaxing pleasure from my very core with incredible expertise.

  I watched, mesmerized, but as I began to come perilously close to the edge, pulled back. “Not so quick.”

  She fell back onto the bed with a grin, resting on her elbows, and looked up at me with a shameless grin. “Then what is you desire of me, my lord?”

  “Everything,” I rasped, and scooped her legs from behind the knees. I pressed them high, so they rested beside her head, her ass lifting from the bed, the scent of her sex musky and irresistible.

  “Have you ever fucked a high elf, my lord?” And by the Hanged God’s ever-questing rod, the faux innocence in her voice near drove me mad. Such wisdom and experience in her eyes, such fake sweetness in her expression.

  I sank two fingers inside her, pushing them deep, and watched as she writhed before me. Curling my fingers, I made a come-hither motion, rubbing the tips against her G-spot, the surface rough and whorled within her.

  “Fuck,” she sighed contentedly, and then interlocked her ankles behind her head. Just as she’d worked me, I worked her, sliding my fingers in and out, her pussy growing slick, breathing shallow, eyelids fluttering as she relaxed and accepted my touch.

  I could have done that all day, watching her contorted before me, helpless and open, but I wanted more.

  So I spat down between her ass cheeks, edged in closer, and guided my cock head against the pale star of her ass.

  “Ready?” I whispered.

  “Always,” she said, not missing a beat, eyes still closed.

  I pushed my cock head into her, the resistance gradually disappearing, until with a pop, I slid inside.

  Her whole body tensed but then immediately relaxed, but by Fortuna’s splenderific tits, the tightness was insane.

  I kept working her with my fingers, the thrusts rhythmic, inexorable, then began sliding in and out of her ass in counterpoint. Moving slowly, I watched her carefully for any signs of discomfort.

  “More spit,” she whispered, so I obliged, then slid in with greater ease, feeling her relax about me once more.

  “Fuck,” she whispered. “It’s like my ass is a cauldron, and you’re stirring it with a foot-long spoon.”

  I laughed, taken aback and delighted. “Are high elves even allowed to say that kind o
f shit?”

  “Stir me, Kellik,” she moaned, reaching up to adjust her ankles where they were locked behind her head. “Stir me deep. I want you to feel your cock in my ass through my pussy.”

  Oh shit. Was that even possible? I turned my fingers around, pressed down, thrust forward experimentally, and felt a bulge slide along the bottom of her pussy. Mesmerized, I did it again and again, feeling my cock through her flesh.

  “Harder,” she moaned, and I couldn’t get over the cognitive dissonance of it. Seeing a peerless high elf behaving like this, needing my cock. The last I’d seen had been the embassy from the high elf nation in Port Lusander, and they’d seemed otherworldly, haughty, imperial.

  Now here was Netherys, my Netherys, alike and yet utterly different, pinned beneath me, moaning, needing me, loving my shaft in her ass.

  “I’m going to try something,” I whispered. “Ready?”

  “Anything,” she moaned, eyes squeezing shut as I resumed coaxing her G-spot.

  I summoned the powers of the king troll and filled my words with their intensity. “I want you to come for me right now, Netherys.”

  The words seared the air with their power, and stung the high elf like a lash. Her whole body stiffened, went taut, and her ass clenched my shaft like a fist. Her pussy spasmed, her eyes flew open wide in shock, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe, her abdominal wall trembling, shaking, her whole body shivering.

  And then she began to cry out, a stuttering, panicked cry, growing louder, ever louder as the orgasm pounded through her, her ass so tight I froze for fear of losing control right there and then.

  Her eyes rolled up, her ankles unlocked, and she gave herself over to her orgasm, trying to ride it and failing.

  I didn’t move; only watched, spellbound, as the elven perfection that was Netherys writhed beneath me.

  It took a while for her to subside, for the shaking to stop, for her eyes to open and focus on me again.

  And the entire time I was rock solid within her.

  “Mother Magrathaar wept,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “What the fuck was that?”

  “A successful experiment,” I said, and resumed slowly pulsing in and out of her ass. “You need to rest?”