The Twilight Lord. Bertrice SmallЧитать онлайн книгу.
faerie woman. He would never let her go. No other man would ever possess Lara again. She was his and his alone. How had he lived without her?
He allowed himself the luxury of sleep in her bed for a short while, and then he arose and went to his own apartments. There he found Alfrigg awaiting him.
“Have you seeded her, my lord?” his chancellor wanted to know.
“Not yet.”
“You have spent all this time with the woman and have not yet rodded her? My lord, that is not like you.”
“She has been well rodded,” Kol said, “but I am not yet ready to seed her. She is a pleasurable mount, Alfrigg, and I think after waiting a year I am entitled to take a bit of enjoyment for myself before I fill her belly with my son.” Then he told Alfrigg the tale he had woven for Lara. “I will gain her trust more easily if I take my time with her. And I will need to call the Munin lord from the Penumbras. Lara needs practical matters restored to her memory. She is like an infant newborn and I cannot be forever explaining what this is and what that is.”
“As long as you keep the memories of her faerie nature, her magic and her past life from her,” Alfrigg said.
“She still has her magic,” Kol replied. “The Munin could only take her memories of her magic, but they could not take the magic itself. They have not the power and neither do I, which is why I must gain her complete trust, Alfrigg. When I stole her from her bed in the New Outlands, I left behind the spirit guardian her mother gave her when she was a child. She cannot hear its voice here. She can hear only mine.”
“My lord,” Alfrigg cried, “you should have taken it with you! If anyone should find her amulet then they will know she has been stolen and not simply wandered away or gone off by herself as is her wont.”
“It is too late now,” Kol replied. He waved a hand at Alfrigg. “Leave me now. I must bathe and then speak with the Munin lord.”
Alfrigg bowed but his expression was disapproving and dour as he backed from his master’s chamber.
Kol clapped his hands and a servant hurried forward. “Tell the bath master that I am coming,” he said. “Then bring me fresh garments. When you see me being dressed, ring the black iron bell in my receiving chamber to summon the Munin lord to me.” Kol set off for his bath, his servants scurrying quickly ahead to announce his arrival.
The black marble bath was steamy and scented with sandalwood. It was not necessary for Kol to speak with the servants there. They knew what was required of them and performed their functions thoroughly and silently. He was bathed and massaged with sweet oils. Stepping into a small dressing chamber he found fresh garments and footwear awaiting him. Kol stood as his servants dressed him and then without so much as a word he left them and hurried to his receiving chamber where he found the Munin lord awaiting him.
The wraithlike creature bowed. “How may I serve you, my lord?” he asked.
“I need some of Lara’s memories restored to her. She knows nothing and it is like dealing with a child. It was amusing when she woke up earlier but I have no further patience for it. Practical knowledge, everyday information, is what I want returned to her,” Kol said. “But nothing of her personal history, her magical abilities or her life prior to awakening in my arms may be returned to her. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly, my lord,” the Munin said. He flitted over to the great alabaster jar where Lara’s memories were stored. He opened it and peering down into the tall vessel he appeared to rummage within, then he drew long golden threads from its depths with his bony fingers and transferred them to his other hand. “I think these are exactly what you desire, my lord Kol,” the Munin said in his reedy voice.
“Follow me then,” the Twilight Lord ordered, “and I will take you to her. She should be sleeping for she was well rodded but a short while ago.” He led the Munin from the chamber and down a dim corridor to Lara’s apartments. He cautiously opened the door to the room where he had left her. She still slept.
The Munin drifted over the sleeping woman and, holding each of the long golden threads over her head, individually let them slip from his fingers and back into her head where they belonged. As he did he surreptitiously admired the faerie woman. She was very beautiful. Though he had enjoyed sifting through her memories the night he and his brothers had stolen them, he found himself feeling just the faintest touch of guilt, which was very unusual. Her memories were powerful ones, for she was a powerful woman. But if the Twilight Lord’s Book of Rule had said she would be the mother of his son, then so she would be. It was easier for her that she did not know who or what she was.
“It is done, my lord Kol,” the Munin lord whispered.
“Then you may go, with my thanks,” Kol said. “You are content with your home?”
“It is perfect, my lord Kol,” the Munin lord said, “if perhaps a bit cold.”
Kol nodded. And knowing he was dismissed, the Munin lord vanished away.
The Twilight Lord sat down by Lara’s bedside. He could not get enough of looking at her. It was amazing to realize she was actually here with him. It was unbelievable to find she possessed the same lust for pleasures that he did. The women in his Women’s House were all compliant but none were like Lara. Kol felt his need rising and he arose from her bedside. He didn’t want to exhaust her, especially after she had demanded both of his rods. She looked pale as she slept. He would go to the Women’s House and use several of the complaisant females who spent their lives just waiting for him. It would ease his longing and Lara would not consider that she had a barbarian for a mate. Reluctantly, he left her.
When Lara awoke her mind was clearer than it had been earlier. She felt just faintly sore. Turning over, she looked for Kol, but he was not there. She felt a slight relief. He was a powerful lover and his two rods were extremely talented, but even being fed a light meal between their passionate bouts was not enough to erase her tiredness. Well, she had been ill for several weeks, Lara considered. Still she was hungry. “Hello?” she called out. Almost immediately two serving women entered the chamber.
“What is your desire, my lady Lara?” the taller of the two asked.
“I want a bath and I want food,” Lara told her.
“At once, my lady Lara.”
“What are your names?” Lara said.
“The master said your memory was faulty after your terrible sickness. I am Macia and my companion is Anka. While I go to fetch your food she will escort you to your bath. The bath mistress will be glad to see you again, my lady Lara,” Macia said with a servile bow and a smile. Then she backed from the room leaving Lara with the other servant.
Anka hurried over to the bed and helped Lara to stand, bracing her as she swayed slightly. “It is not far, my lady Lara,” she said. Then she led Lara to a pale gray marble bath chamber. “The bath mistress is called Zenda,” she whispered helpfully and Lara smiled her thanks.
Zenda came forward to take over as Lara entered. She spoke little except to tell Lara what she wanted of her. Lara sat silently as the nails on both her feet and fingers were pared and then carefully shaped. She stood in a shallow stone basin as two serving women washed her thoroughly with fragrant scented soap and large sea sponges. Then they rinsed her with perfumed water. As they worked, Lara found she was able to identify certain objects in the bath. With relief she realized some of her memory was returning.
Zenda herself washed Lara’s hair, marveling at its golden beauty as she rinsed it with lemon. Next, she had Lara lie upon a marble table and using the softest cloth she gently washed Lara’s genitals, pushing the cloth into both of her orifices to draw out any residue of Kol’s juices. Lara was surprised, but as her memory was not all restored she assumed this was just something else she had forgotten. Zenda flushed the sensitive apertures with a warm solution of alum.
“You will be tight for him each time,” she told Lara in a rare spoken explanation.